Destructive King

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Annie!” The door to my own house burst open. “I missed you!” Tank pulled her in for a hug, glaring at me over her shoulder.

  Deserved.

  I let him.

  Because now I knew.

  I would fight for whatever I got.

  Even if it just meant friendship.

  She laughed as he kissed her cheek.

  Or maybe I’d kill him… The night was young!

  “Come on!” someone yelled. “Time to eat and open early Friendsmas presents!”

  “Shit!” I wanted to bang my head against the counter. “I totally forgot.”

  It was Annie who pulled herself away from Tank, took my hand, locked eyes with me, and whispered. “We have you… Gift received.”

  So simple.

  Pure.

  She had no idea that for the next hour, all I could focus on was the gift I would give her.

  And I hoped to God she would take it.

  Scream it.

  Remember it.

  Claim it.

  Knowing—I’d never deserve it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “The trouble is you think you have time.” —Buddha

  Annie

  The last twenty-four hours had been… horrifying. Then restorative, in a way, I didn’t realize I needed.

  Shopping had been therapeutic that morning, and now that things were… as normal as possible between Ash and me, I wasn’t really sure how to act.

  Everyone was going over to Nixon’s for the Friendsmas get together; I was nervous in my own house let alone another.

  Was it because of the way Ash was suddenly looking at me? It was as if he’d finally climbed the ginormous wall he’d put between us and decided he liked things better on the other side.

  I knew how to treat Ash when he was cruel.

  What I didn’t know how to do, was handle him when he was nice, sweet, when he smiled, or when he reached for my hand.

  I was suddenly in way over my head. I almost preferred the mean because at least then, my heart wasn’t in any danger of falling all over itself. Already, I’d been half in love with him even while I hated him.

  Now?

  Now?

  I wanted to slap myself across the face and then give myself a shake for good measure. It was Ash.

  Ash!

  He still had so much to work through, and after last night, I knew we were friends, but that was it.

  So what if I woke up in his arms a few times last night and just stared? Or if today I couldn’t stop thinking about the warmth of his body as our legs intertwined on the leather?

  I cleared my throat and reached for another plate as I helped Izzy set one of the three tables. Since everyone was here, all the bosses, all the wives, kids, and some associates, we had close to seventy people in the house, and as much as I loved the noise, the laughter, I found myself constantly wanting to draw into myself because I wasn’t a part of this.

  And I would have killed to be.

  I mean, I was there.

  Present.

  But this wasn’t my future.

  And I didn’t want to be one of those people who whined about where they were or where they were going. I just—felt sad.

  And sometimes, it was okay to grieve what you wished you had while still having hope for a future that might one day look similar.

  “Annie?” Luc, with her jet black cropped hair and crystal blue eyes, put a hand on my shoulder. “Can you go let Ash know that dinner’s almost ready at Nixon’s and we’re all riding together?”

  It would be the first time I saw him since we were all out shopping. Why was I freaking out over something so stupid?

  “Sure.” I licked my lips and then ran back up to my room to grab the present I’d gotten for him. Granted, I’d gotten it using his dad’s money, but still, after last night, I figured Chase would be one hundred percent okay with my choice.

  In all honesty, he probably wouldn’t even see the small amount I spent compared to the near billions they had.

  With the little white bag secure, I made my way down the stairs through the back entrance, tracing my steps all the way around the pool toward the guest house.

  The door was open, so either he was welcoming in the chilly Chicago air, or he was getting ready to come to the main house.

  I stepped inside. “Ash?”

  “What?” His voice was muffled.

  I frowned. “It’s, um…” I raised my voice. “Time for dinner at Nixon’s!”

  “Does that make you my dinner bell?”

  I hesitated, a smile tugging at my lips. “Maybe?”

  “Do I get to eat you too?”

  I felt my entire body flush. “Um, pretty sure that plain Annie isn’t on the menu, but I’m sure I can find you a turkey leg.”

  And silence.

  With a sigh, I made my way up the stairs and poked my head inside his room. “Ash?”

  “Almost ready.” He made his way out of the bathroom in nothing but skin-tight black briefs that left nothing to the imagination, strutting his way around his room with a white T-shirt hanging loosely across his muscled body.

  Tattoo’s swirled down his arms, wrapping his tan skin like a Christmas present.

  Mouth dry, I looked away. “I can wait downstairs.”

  “Not like you haven’t seen me naked before, Annie., he said casual enough that I glanced up only to have him send me a devastating wink. “Or do you need reminders of those two times?”

  Three.

  It was three.

  I let out a breath like I was annoyed. “Trust me, you’re hard to forget when you’re being all forceful and grumpy.”

  “Ohhhhh, so I forced your tongue down my throat?” His chuckle was warm. “Good to know.” He grabbed a pair of jeans that I liked but was literally taking longer than the entire dinner took to make.

  Sighing in frustration, I marched over to his closet and walked in, searching for one of his tighter long-sleeve shirts.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” I mumbled. “Wear this.” I pulled the shirt from the hanger and turned, slamming directly into his warmth as he steadied me. The shirt was sandwiched between us along with his present.

  His eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that was frankly terrifying.

  I gulped and then somehow managed to free the shirt enough to wave it between us like a flag of surrender. “Here.”

  He took the shirt, his fingers brushing against mine as he pulled it over his head and asked. “What’s with the bag?”

  “Oh!” I couldn’t contain my excitement as I thrust it in his face. “It’s for you! I just didn’t want to give it to you at Nixons.” I explained. “In front of everyone. You know, just in case…” I gulped. “In case…” Ugh, could I sound at least a bit more eloquent. “Ignore me; just open it before they send a search party.”

  His eyes never left mine as he took the bag from my fingertips and peeked inside. How anyone had hands that sexy was beyond me, but one of them reaching into the bag and pulling out the small white box was enough to send my heart racing.

  Frowning, he set the bag down on the carpeting then clicked open the white velvet box.

  His eyes flickered down.

  And then he tensed.

  “You hate it.” I was horrified as I reached for the box. “I’m so sorry I just thought—”

  He jerked away from me.

  Tears stung my eyes.

  Damn it!

  “It’s too soon. I’m sorry, Ash, really. I just thought if you had them close to your heart, on you, you know, that you wouldn’t feel so alone…”

  Hands shaking, he pulled the long vintage necklace from the box; it was on a silver chain. Dangling from the end was an old key, and inscribed in it were Claire’s initials and then “my angel,” for whatever baby they would have had.

  He gripped it in his hand.

  “Ash, really—”

  He crushed his body against mine in a hug so tight that I was afraid I was goi
ng to pass out from lack of oxygen.

  I wrapped my arms around his waist as he held me tight.

  And my stupid heart beat excitedly against my ribs.

  Friends.

  We were friends.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, pulling his head back and kissing me on the cheek so softly I wondered if I imagined it.

  An electrical surge pulsed between us as we entered another stare down, but she was still there, between us, in that necklace, so I took a step back because this wasn’t my moment—ours.

  Maybe we’d never have one of those, but at least Ash would have her, pressed against his heart for eternity, and maybe I’d get lucky enough to sometimes be able to hold his hand.

  Once.

  Twice.

  I took a deep breath and stepped far away from him. “You’re welcome.” He was still staring at me, so I rocked back on my heels and nodded toward the door with a smile. “We should probably go.”

  I was maybe a foot from his bedroom door when he called after me. “Don’t you want to know what your gift is?”

  I froze, afraid to turn around. “My gift?”

  “Your gift,” he confirmed.

  “I-I’m sure it’s going to be great,” I said lamely.

  “Great?” Amusement laced the word. “You’ll have to let me know once you have it…”

  His palm met the small of my back; I could feel the heat pouring out of his skin as he pulled me against his front and then whispered in my ear. “I’m going to make you wait until after dinner, more fun that way, with you wondering what could be so great…” He chuckled. “Your word, not mine.”

  I shivered and then joked to break the tension. “You better not have gotten me pearls…”

  He froze. “How did you know?”

  I let out a gasp. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” I turned in his arms only to see him cracking a smile. Then I smacked him. “That’s mean!”

  “I’m mean.” He shrugged. “That never really changed. You know that, right?”

  “Maybe I like you mean.” I shrugged and looked away.

  “I’m beginning to think you wouldn’t know what to do with nice, Annie…”

  “Tank’s nice,” I said defensively.

  “He is…” Ash agreed. “But who’s the one holding you alone in his room?”

  I chewed my lower lip. “The mean one.”

  His forehead touched mine. “Correct.”

  “Ash!” Izzy yelled. “Annie! Get your asses over here! It’s time for food. Junior texted and already tried to steal the turkey leg, King hit him, a knife that should have been confiscated wasn’t, mashed potatoes went everywhere, Trace is super pissed, and Nixon looks ready to set King on fire. So if you want food, I’d hurry.”

  “Coming!” I yelled when Ash didn’t answer.

  I could have sworn I heard Ash say “you will be” under his breath.

  My imagination, of course.

  Because it was Ash.

  And I was me.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “The trouble with quotes about death is 99.9% of them are made by people who are still alive.” —Joshua Burns

  Ash

  “PUT THE KNIFE DOWN!” Dad roared, pointing his drumstick at King, who continued to wave the knife in Dad’s general direction while people made bets.

  Money exchanged hands over what was supposed to be a peaceful moment, then again, when had our family dinners ever been peaceful.

  I slapped a fifty into Junior’s hand on my left. “Dad takes poor Tom’s drumstick very seriously.”

  “Normally, I’d agree with you.” Junior sipped his wine as King lunged forward with his knife in Dad’s face. “But he’s getting scrappier.”

  “Atta boy.” Tex clapped and leaned back in his chair while Mo smacked him across the chest. “What?”

  Nixon and Sergio were already trying to find all the dark meat, using the distraction for their own holiday purposes.

  And when I thought that Dad really would fillet King alive, someone pulled the turkey leg from his hand and took a huge bite out of it.

  Tex burst out laughing. “And my other boy!”

  Valerian sure did know how to make an entrance as he took another bite, swiped his mouth, and then handed it back to my very purple-faced dad.

  The best part was that since Valerian was the Petrov boss, my dad could do nothing, and we all knew that after this last year when my dad went at Valerian with a steak knife—repeatedly—for marrying my sister—well, he probably deserved it.

  I mean, a fucking serrated steak knife?

  No thanks.

  “Happy Holidays.” Valerian grinned.

  Chase jumped to his feet only to have Violet, hug him, completely disarming what looked like attempted murder.

  “Nice to see you,” Junior called out to Valerian.

  “Yeah.” His green eyes lit up. “Sorry, we were late.” He tugged at the collar of his jacket.

  Lipstick… correction, my sister’s lipstick was stained across his neck like a fucking stamp.

  “My. Sister,” I grumbled.

  Valerian winked. “Yeah, she is…”

  “Son of a—” I jumped to my feet only to get shoved back down by Junior.

  From across the table, Maksim cackled.

  The other two tables were reserved for the younger cousins and associates, and by the looks of it, we were the entertainment for the night.

  Of course, we were.

  Chaos ensued, and something close to contentment washed over me as I watched my family fight and eat, fight some more, then pull out weapons that were supposed to be in the delegated weapon bucket at the door.

  Seated next to me, Annie was quiet.

  But smiling.

  The necklace she’d given me dangled beneath my shirt, pressed against my skin. I’d wanted to kiss her then.

  More than I’d wanted anything in a really long time.

  But it felt… wrong.

  Maybe because the necklace was about Claire while the gesture was all Annie, and I was having trouble sorting the two.

  I slid my hand under the table and squeezed her thigh in what I thought was reassurance.

  Instead, she jumped a foot, banging her knees against the table, and gaining the attention of every single adult and cousin, including an amused looking King who was chewing, mouth open, with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Got jumping spiders over there?”

  “Got flies in there?” I nodded toward his mouth.

  Mo, his mom, and my aunt smacked him on the back of the head. “Manners!”

  “Oww!” King rubbed the spot and shot me a dirty look. “Manners don’t count when man eat meat.” He pounded his chest and ripped into it again.

  “So civilized, my son.” Tex released a sigh.

  Valerian and Violet grabbed their seats and started piling food onto their plates, and my palm was still pressed against Annie’s thigh.

  I should have pulled it back.

  But it was warm there.

  Her skin.

  She was in a short sweater dress, which meant I had nothing but smooth skin to touch, and I found that the more I touched, the more I wanted.

  And it was such a foreign concept after so much shit that I just wanted to be selfish and keep that moment—her skin, for myself.

  She jumped again, but this time I wasn’t the culprit. Nope, that was all Tank as he cursed next to her and jerked another glass of wine away from Kartini—girl was turning into a handful, and he’d just been nominated as babysitter. Sergio and Val were worried; ergo, Tank got the job of being full-time sin watcher.

  Shit, I almost felt sorry for the poor guy.

  Almost.

  I smiled and took another sip of wine with my free hand and looked up to see my dad staring me down with a look of pure joy on his face.

  My eyes narrowed. “Hey, Scary Dad, what’s with the creepy smile?”

  He scoffed. “I’m never creepy, always sexy.”

  “Sur
e, sure.” Mom patted him on the arm.

  “It’s okay Chase, not everyone can be as sexy as yours truly.” Dante interrupted, earning a few sighs from that side of the table.

  Back in the day, he apparently turned all the wives’ heads, my mom included.

  I shuddered.

  Old people were so weird.

  “A toast,” Dad said, standing and shocking the hell out of me. When there was that much food involved, he rarely came up for air. “To our children…”

  All the bosses and associates stood. “Hear, hear!”

  Dad locked eyes with me and said, “Good to have you back, son.”

  Stunned stupid, I could only stare back and give him a small nod as everyone sat down and continued eating.

  My heart hammered against my chest as I realized the gravity of what he’d just said as if I’d been the prodigal and was now finally home.

  And as that warmth spread through my chest, down my arms, to the hand that was touching Annie—I realized.

  I hadn’t been home in a fucking long time.

  Not like this.

  No, it had been over a year since I felt this contentment.

  The hurt was still there.

  The pain.

  The burning question of why?

  But the rage was more of a slow fire than a furnace I wanted to jump into, and while my friends and family were always there to help…

  I had one girl in particular who deserved more than the hatred I’d spewed her way.

  And I had every fucking intention of making sure she knew it.

  “Speaking of scary smiles,” Junior said under his breath. “The one you’re sporting right now looks absolutely terrifying—whose death are you imagining?”

  I shrugged. “I guess it’s sort of like death then getting reborn, depends on how you look at it—and how you…” I looked down at my hand on her thigh. “…execute.”

  Annie was busy talking to Kartini.

  But Junior followed my gaze and smirked. “She’s either going to kill you or kill you. I find myself looking forward to dessert more and more.”

  I shot him a cocky grin. “Me too, me too.”

  The rest of dinner was a blur of eating, chaos, violence, and the random gun draw between Phoenix and Andrei, which ended with a very intense draw over the stuffing that had everyone holding their breath, mainly because any sort of body part in the food was frowned upon.