King (The King Series Book 1)
King: Chapter 8

There was no doubt in my mind that King was capable of the kind of things most normal people couldn’t fathom, but what kind of person kills their own mother?

Preppy asked me the same questions King had about who I was, and I told him my story. The difference between Preppy and King is that Preppy actually listened to me.

I gave him the short version.

No memory.

Group home.

Living on the streets.

Nikki.

Attempting to sell myself for protection and shelter.

Also unlike King, Preppy seemed to actually believe me.

I drank every last bit of broth, and Preppy changed the bandage on my ear. It was already starting to itch as it scabbed over.

“Why don’t you let me go?” I asked, bunching the waistband of the sweatpants he’d given me to wear in my hand so they wouldn’t fall down. “You can just tell King that I escaped.”

Preppy shook his head from side to side. “That’s not going to happen,” he scoffed, like there was something wrong with my question, not the fact that his friend had a girl handcuffed to his bed against her will.

Preppy uncuffed me. Temporarily, he made sure to tell me, and led me to one of the doors in the room I’d assumed was a closet but turned out to be a small but clean bathroom.

I hadn’t realized how bad I had to pee before then. I let the sweatpants fall to the floor and was about to push down my underwear when I noticed the door still stood open and Preppy watched my every move.

“Can you please close the door?”

“Sure.” Preppy took a step inside and shut the door behind him.

“Not exactly what I meant.”

“Sorry, kid. Boss-man told me not to let you out of my sight.”

“Do you always do what he tells you to?” I asked, bitterly.

“For the most part.” Unable to wait a second longer, I pushed down my underwear and sat on the toilet.

Nothing came out.

“Don’t have to go anymore?” He asked.

“I do, but I can’t pee with you staring at me like that. Just turn around. It’s not like I’m going anywhere. This room doesn’t even have a window.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that your highness had stage fright,” Preppy said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

He opened the bathroom door again and this time he turned his back to me. The second I knew he wasn’t looking, my body was able to relax and let go. The relief felt so amazing I moaned out loud.

“I may appear nice, kid, but don’t get it twisted. King and I are cut from the same cloth.”

“If he asked you to kill me, would you do it?” I asked, needing to know if he would be the one to possibly end my life.

“Yes,” he answered. No hesitation.

When I was done, Preppy led me back to the bed and secured my cuff around my wrist. This time, he connected it to a lower rung on the headboard so I wouldn’t have to sit with my arm raised above my head.

“Prep,” King’s deep voice boomed from the doorway, startling me. He motioned to Preppy with a lift of his chin. Preppy tightened the cuff around my wrist and left the room. King glanced at me for a brief second, then followed Preppy out, closing the door behind them.

Did they replace Nikki? Did she tell them I didn’t have anything to do with stealing from him? Or maybe, she turned on me and told them it was all my idea. Nikki was oddly overprotective of me when she was sober, but when she was high she was unpredictable, and if her life or her drugs were on the line, there was no doubt in my mind that she would throw me to the wolves.

I heard a door slam, and then their muffled voices rose up to the window from outside. I strained my neck and peered out. King and Preppy were on the lawn, just beyond the deck. The sun was just setting; the sky glowed orange.

I stretched out my leg and slid the window open a crack with my bare foot.

“Found the redhead,” King said. He lit a cigarette.

“Where?” Preppy asked.

“Andrews’ place up the highway. That old motel with the pool in the parking lot.”

“You get the cash?” Preppy asked. He leaned back against the railing and crossed his arms over his chest.

King shook his head and blew out the smoke.

“I think she’s telling the truth, man,” Preppy said, gesturing up to my window with his hands. I ducked in reaction although from that angle there was no way they could see me. “I think you know I’m pretty good at detecting a liar, and this girl doesn’t scream thief to me. What did the redhead say about her?”

“She didn’t say shit.”

“How come?”

“Cause she’s fucking dead.”

* * *

Nikki was dead.

I couldn’t catch my breath.

My head spun.

King had said that anyone who stole from him would have to pay a price, and Nikki had paid it.

With her life.

There was no doubt, that without King being able to ask Nikki about my involvement, that I was next.

Thunderclouds clapped overhead. King and Preppy walked back toward the house, but I could no longer make out what they were saying. I closed the window and propped myself on the bed just as they’d left me.

The first chance I got I was going to make a run for it. There was no time to wait and plan. This was going to have to be quick and on-the-fly.

After a few minutes, Preppy came back into the room and uncuffed me. “Let’s go,” he said. Yanking me into an upright position, he dragged me toward the door.

“Where are we going?” I asked frantically. Then, it came to me. This was King’s house. His bedroom. He wouldn’t carry out killing me in his own home, so it was very likely they would take me somewhere else first. This was my only shot, and I was going to have to take it.

“Not far,” Preppy said.

It was getting dark, and it was about to storm. Couldn’t they at least wait until morning? I could think better when I wasn’t being choked by my own fear of the dark.

“Why?”

“Come on. You’ll see.”

We walked down the narrow hallway and down the stairs to the main living area of the house. King was nowhere in sight. Figures he would ask Preppy to do his dirty work for him. A part of me wanted King to do it.

I wanted him to see the look in my eyes as he killed an innocent person.

But it didn’t look like I was going to get that chance.

Preppy led me out onto the balcony, and I stopped short when we reached the stairs. Preppy was already a few steps below me, his grip on my wrist still tight. He turned around when he felt me come to a stop. This was my only chance to escape with my life. I didn’t think. I just acted.

I reared my foot back and kicked him in the balls. HARD. He released my wrist to grab his crotch and I shoved on his shoulders with all my might, sending him tumbling backwards down the steep staircase.

I ran down the steps and jumped over Preppy who was curled up at the bottom of the stairs groaning obscenities face-first into the grass.

I took off as fast as my bare feet and weak legs would take me. Clutching the sweats with one hand, I ran down the dirt driveway, but when I reached the road, there was nothing but more trees in every direction. I didn’t remember which way we’d come from the night before, and there was nothing telling me which way would bring me toward people.

Toward help.

A door slammed somewhere behind me. Heavy boots against the wooden deck echoed over my head. The wind carried the shouts of a very deep and very unhappy voice.

Shit.

The sun had almost fully sunk into the horizon. Although I couldn’t see in the dark, I had to get off the open road where I was a sitting duck.

I took off across the road. Pushing some brush aside, I jumped through the opening I created, stumbling over twisting roots and cypress knees. Finding my footing on the soft wet ground was almost impossible.

So was running straight.

Vines and brush blocked my every move. Spider webs stretched over my face as I tried to clear a path. Just a little further in, and I would be able to hide within the thick brush.

My foot landed on something sharp and I hissed, tumbling forward onto a narrow path. I leapt across the mud and used all my weight to flatten a bush. I’d just lifted my leg as high as it could go so I could step over it when I was tackled from behind, landing hard on my side. The wind left my lungs with a whooshing sound.

No matter how hard I tried to suck air back in, I couldn’t. Over and over again, I opened my mouth to breathe, and over and over again, my lungs failed me.

I was still gasping for air when strong arms flipped me onto my back. Massive, hard thighs held me like a vice on each side of my ribcage, threatening to snap them with one twist of his knees.

King leaned over me, his grip tight on my wrists, which he held together and raised above my head. I tried to gain control of my lungs. When I was finally able to pull in some air, my chest rose and fell in quick pants. My breasts brushed up against King’s hard chest.

The wind howled. The sky answered with a thunderclap that I felt in my bones. The rain started slow. Icy drops caused my skin to prickle. I was suddenly hyper-aware of the man lying on top of me. The rain quickly turned from drops to sheets. Water poured down King’s face and into his dark demon-like eyes, but he didn’t look possessed.

He looked like the devil himself.

“I thought I made it clear that I owned you,” he growled. His nostrils flared. “Your debt has yet to be paid, pup.”

“So, kill me already, and get it over with,” I said hoarsely, in the loudest voice I could muster, which was barely a whisper. “Either let me go, or just fucking kill me!”

King scoffed. “That would be too easy.”

“What then? What do you want from me? I heard you. Nikki’s dead. Your money is gone, and I can’t pay you back. I don’t have anything you want.” I struggled to throw him off, but I was as effective as a gnat to a tiger.

“Oh, but I think you can pay me back, Pup. You do have something I want,” he said, running his fingers up my arm to my shoulder. He grabbed hold of my throat in his large palm and squeezed with calloused fingers, not enough to choke me, but just enough to remind me he could.

“Please, just let me go! I’m nothing! I’m no one! You don’t want me. Last night, you walked out of that room because you didn’t want me. Remember? So just let me go. Please. I’m begging you.”

I’d stopped struggling because it was pointless, the only thing I had that could possibly get to him were my words.

And I was failing miserably.

“But that’s where you’re wrong. Last night, I thought you were a scared little girl, unable to handle what I want, what I can do, what I need. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Because now you’re my property, and I can do what the fuck I want with what’s mine.” He emphasized this by squeezing harder on my throat.

I opened my mouth to protest, to tell him that I wasn’t his and never would be when suddenly King’s lips came crashing down over mine with such force that the back of my head was pushed down further into the mud. There was nowhere for me to go, nowhere to get away. His full lips were soft, but his kiss was anything but. He sucked my lower lip into his mouth and licked at the seam of my lips with his tongue.

King was hard and scary as hell, so was his kiss. And if his words weren’t getting his point across, his kiss told me that he owned me. It made me forget for just a second that the man behind those lips was a raging psychopath.

The rain continued to assault us. For once it wasn’t my mouth speaking before my brain. It was my body. Because as much as I told myself that I didn’t want his kiss, my body was very much saying that it wanted it. Wanted him.

I opened my mouth to protest, but the second I did, his tongue touched mine, and he groaned. The contact produced a spark, an energy that radiated through my entire body, pooling between my legs.

King used a knee to spread my legs apart, then settled between them. Not once did he take his lips from mine as he rocked his erection against my core. My body hummed at the friction, and I moaned into his mouth. His hands flew to the back of my neck, pressing me up against him as he kissed me until I was dizzy.

It was an entirely new type of hunger.

With a deep, throaty growl, King abruptly ended the kiss. Sitting back on his knees, he reached down and ran the pad of his thumb across my cheek. He looked down at me as if he were seeing me for the very first time. His expression soft. His lips swollen from our kiss.

My chest heaved as I again tried to catch my breath. Without King lying on top of me to shield me from the cold rain, a chill ran down my body. My teeth began to chatter. His eyes drank me in as they skimmed over my face, then down the rest of my body. I could swear that it felt as if he were actually touching me, not just looking at me.

“Go,” King snapped, jumping to his feet like he’d been electrocuted.

“What?” I asked. I somehow managed to get to my knees, still holding up the now wet and heavy sweatpants, the draw string already pulled as tight as it would go.

“Just fucking go!” he roared, standing up fully.

He took a menacing step toward me. His sudden proximity forced me backwards. I stumbled over a rock and fell back onto my ass.

“That path will take you to the highway,” he said, pointing to the ground behind me. I turned and found the path, but when I turned back around, he was gone. The crunch of the brush under his boots faded quickly, swallowed by the sounds of the storm.

I was free.

But I was also truly alone. In the dark. And that clouded over the elation I should have felt.

My chest grew tight. I pressed my hands against my heart to try and physically tame it from leaping out of my body. Faster and faster it beat until I thought it would come to a screeching halt. Again, I couldn’t catch my breath.

Panic set in.

My vision blurred. The forest around me spun and spun until the foliage blended together into one big green and brown vortex, like staring up into the eye of a tornado.

I’d felt safer minutes earlier, staring into King’s hate-filled eyes.

I tried to get up. I sat up on my knees, but I slipped in the mud and fell forward onto my forearms. Unable to replace the courage to try again, I turned onto my side and pressed my cheek into the mud, holding a hand over my exposed ear.

I needed to be invisible. I needed to disappear into the dark, and then just maybe the dark would disappear around me. I hugged my knees to my chest.

Twenty-four hours ago, I thought I would be set up in some biker’s bed by now, basking in the comfort of a roof over my head and food in my stomach. I wouldn’t have my dignity, but I hadn’t had the luxury of dignity since I woke up in the hospital. Instead, I was barefoot and cold in the middle of the woods. And as the moon disappeared behind dark storm clouds, I was enveloped in complete blackness.

I tucked my bare feet as close to my body as I could to keep the chill off my toes. My chattering teeth turned into a full body shake as the rain pummeled me. Each icy drop felt like a pin-prick into my skin.

Why the hell did he kiss me? Why the hell did I let him?

I was mad at myself. For not fighting him off, for liking it.

I’d done a lot of fucked up things in the last few months. Eating out of dumpsters. Sleeping in abandoned cars. But nothing I’d done left me more disgusted with myself then yielding to his kiss.

What was even more fucked up was, that more than anything, I’d hoped at any second the tall grass would rustle and he’d appear out of the brush to rescue me from the dark.

King wasn’t the rescuing type, I reminded myself.

He was the killing type.

My body shuddered. Still angry. Still scared. Still really fucking cold.

Still turned on.

In the light of day, it was easy to push things aside with the distraction of survival to keep me busy. But alone with only my own thoughts in the dark, I became more aware that without memories of the past, lessons lived and learned, I was a mere shell of a person.

I was a stranger to myself.

I was an alien, invading the body of a girl I didn’t know. I stole it from her, entirely by accident, a byproduct of a tragic event that wiped her from the earth and set me up in her place.

On nights like these, when the panic threatened to consume me, I talked to her out loud.

I know it’s weird But in an odd way, I miss you. I know I tell you this all the time, but I’m so sorry. I’m sorry if what I’m doing isn’t what you would do. I wish you were here and that I wasn’t, because starving on the streets isn’t a life I want for you or for me. I am so sorry that I’m failing you.

I hope every day that when I wake up that you will be back. And I’m so sorry about earlier, about trying to sell my body for protection. It was a moment of weakness, but I’m over it now. I can do this on my own. I can protect myself. And I’m sorry about what just happened with King. I don’t know how far I was going to take it, but I promise I wasn’t going to let him fuck me.

Or fuck you. Fuck us both?

Weirdest fucking threesome ever.

I laughed manically into the mud, accidentally sucking some into my mouth. I coughed and gagged until it dislodged from my throat, spitting onto the ground.

I’ll try harder. I promise. I can survive…for you.