Page 35 of King of Kings

“Shit!” My hand flies to my chest.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, you’re fine. I’m jumpy this morning. I didn’t sleep well,” I admit.

“Is everything okay?” Concern laces her features.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just under a lot of stress.” I wave her off.

“Okay, well, I’m staying at J’s tonight, so I probably won’t see you later.”

I remember J from when Kinsley was young. They were attached at the hip even then. It made Kinsley’s dad so angry because J isn’t “good enough” for his daughter. His words, not mine, obviously. I always thought she was a great friend for Kinsley.

“Okay, well, maybe later this week we can have a girl’s night?” I ask.

“I’d love that!” she says, wrapping her arms around me.

I leave Kinsley upstairs and rush down to the door. I still have a twenty-minute drive to the hospital––and anything but fifteen minutes early feels late to me.

I’m opening the front door right when Knox is coming inside, causing the two of us to collide.

He grips my shoulders to keep me from falling.

“Shit, sorry,” I mumble, shaking him off to bend down and pick up my bag.

“Sophie,” he says, and I can hear the regret in his voice.

“Nope. Let me stop you right there. Save your breath. It was a mistake. It never should have happened. I get it.” I brush past him, rushing out the door. “How about we agree to avoid each other from now on? I think it’s for the best. I appreciate that you let me stay here, but let’s just leave it at that.”

My heart feels like it’s about to beat completely out of my chest. It’s like I can’t breathe. I open the car door, throw my bag inside, and put my head on the steering wheel, allowing myself a few minutes to cry.

My phone rings, and instead of screening the call, I straighten up, back out of the driveway, and answer the call through my Bluetooth.

“Hello?”

“Sophia. Why haven’t you called me?” My mother’s shrill voice comes through the car speakers, making me cringe.

“I’ve had a lot going on, Mom.” I sigh, trying my best to pay attention to the road instead of her.

“Too much that you can’t even call your own mother?” she says, making me roll my eyes.

“Did you need something?” I ask.

“Actually, I do. I ran into Tonya Scott today.”

“I have to go, Mom.”

Before she can say anything else, I hang up the phone.

Nope. Not today.

I ignore her call when she calls again. She calls me four more times before I get to work.

I’m not having that conversation with her. I ran from Chicago for a reason. I left without telling anyone where I was going, and I’m not about to travel back down that road.

I pull into a packed parking garage, grabbing the first empty spot I can find and rush out of my car towards the door.

I’m completely out of whack today.

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