Page 14 of Hostile King

It’s over.

I stay on the walkway, my knees aching with every hurried step. They might be stiff and sore, but it’s nothing compared to the seething cracks in my beliefs. We had screwed like animals, him pounding his pain into me and me loving how it made me feel alive.

Whatever Tomás’ battles, he’d brought me along on the journey with him. Our faith in each other surpassed loyalty. It evolved into a beast more terrifying than hate. His misery is bittersweet.

It’s what bonds us and will ultimately tear us apart. I’ve always felt safe with him. Call me young, stupid, and fucked up…it’s a true fact…until his fingers nearly crushed the bones in my neck.

I was scared of him then, even though I’d wanted him to keep on fucking me. And that says more about me than it does about him.

My thirst for him is toxic.

Beneath giant twisted trees, I ignore the squad of armed men trooping a few yards behind me. My mind is everywhere and my foolish heart bleeds over the wooden boards by his feet, where I’d left it.

Fairytales are bullshit.

Villains can never be heroes.

He was never going to pick the defective girl who can’t help him climb the power play ladder to a throne gaudier than his father’s.

The faster I walk, the more my temper escalates, and my pride begs to rebuild itself. If he had taught me anything, it’s that my instincts don’t lie. Even though he’d lost control, it was me he wanted. No one else. Not even the woman he’s meant to marry.

I press a hand to my chest, dizzy and exhausted. Tomás told me it was real—he admitted it. His mind might be damaged beyond repair, but he cares about me.

He saved me.

He was patient with me.

He kissed me like I was his last sip of oxygen before he drowned.

He let me into his heart, but only for a moment.

And now I’m leaving his protection for a life where danger isn’t a constant and the mundane is a reality.

Through the mindless attempt to make myself hate him; a mechanical whir grabs my attention. My gaze hunts the choppy sound. Beyond screening trees, a fleet of helicopters are lined up on a tarmac airstrip to the side of the Souza residence. Reaching a fork in the pathway, I deviate from the route I know would lead me back to the main house.

There’s nothing to keep me here other than the promise of a warm shower and designer dresses. Which means more pointless seconds spent with a family I need to get far away from. And more importantly, the cruel monster I’ve helplessly fallen for.

We’re no longer bound by the verbal agreement, or held captive by the pretense it had cloaked us in. It was a fabricated illusion meant to keep our emotions in check.

Now, we’re further apart than ever. My stomach lurches, ready to vomit from the mental anguish I’m suffering. In reality, all he had promised me was money.

My strides gather momentum, quickly turning my stiffened pace into a jog. The further I run, the harder my pulse slams.

“Wait!” A guy from the ranks yells at me, his boots hammering in my wake.

I don’t listen. Why should I? Tomás wants me out of his way. The timing of when I go is irrelevant, it’s just another thing he has control over. So, I take back my power and bolt towards the only helicopter with its blades churning up the navy sky.

Closing in on me, a large hand seizes my bicep forcing me to slow. “Stop running. You won’t get anywhere. The pilot is under orders to wait. We have to load the chopper with your bags.” The bearded guy holding my arm pants, out of breath.

“I don’t have any bags.” I argue, shirking out of his uncertain grip.

“Your bags of cash. The money he owes you. Come inside. I’ll escort you upstairs so you can get cleaned up before he loses his shit. You have thirty minutes until take off.”

The blood drains from my body and my knees go weak.

“The money he owes me…”

5

---