by Amo Jones
Laughter cracked out of my throat before I could stop it. I was so incredibly angry at everyone, but I was going to start with her. “You know I’ve just spent the last few seconds hoping that the reason why you faked your own death, the reason why I had spent months mourning your death, crying for you, was because you were held captive somewhere against your will. Because what kind of mother would do that to her own daughter, right? But it turns out...” My eyes fluttered back down to her watch, and then lazily dragged up and down her body, examining the way her silk top hung off her lean arms, and the pearl beads that fell around her neck were clearly visible, and let’s not forget the way her face appeared freshly made up of the finest—probably Chanel— makeup. Nope, no smudged eyeliner here. No sunken black eyes, bruises or scarred flesh. Just another housewife pissing away too much money and pretending like they give a shit. “—You’re a fraud all on your own.”
“—Madison…” She strode forward, but I yanked my hand away from her as she reached for it.
“Don’t. I don’t want to see you—or talk to you.”
“Madison.” A voice thundered out from behind me and I stilled. All thoughts, all movements, paralyzed by that imperious tone.
Turning around, my eyes landed on my dad. “Did you know?”
He observed me, and all though I couldn’t make out his expression very well, the headlights from multiple cars that were parked up had somewhat given me a sneak into it.
He exhaled after a beat. “Come home. I will explain there.”
“Madison…” Bishop decided to add in his two cents, his hand coming to mine.
I recoiled. “Don’t fucking touch me, and everyone shut the fuck up and stop saying my goddamn name!”
His jaw clenched, then he dropped his hands to his sides. Taking one step at a time, I headed straight to my dad’s car and slid into the passenger’s seat.
“Kitty, wanna talk?” Nate must’ve hopped in behind me a second later.
“No.” Was all I could manage. Sometimes, I wished I was just a normal hormonal teenager. Battling acne prone skin the night before formal instead of living through this hell.
Slamming the front door closed, I ignored the constant glaring from my dad and Nate and headed straight for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, I wanted to quickly reach the safe confinement of my bedroom. My bubble. It never failed me. Even if at this moment, I disliked some of the people living under the same roof.
I felt as though my mind was spinning on a never-ending Ferris wheel powered by NOS, and all I could think about was how before this night, everything was starting to make sense. Things were slipping into place a little better. But now, my whole life and what I thought I knew had again, been shredded into itty-bitty pieces—actually, the pieces were looking rather irreconcilable at this point. But like in true me life fashion, just when I thought I had gathered up all the pieces, ready to connect them back together, they get smacked out of my hand and scattered over the fricking Pacific Ocean. Someone is taking the piss out of my life.
Hitting the faucet on the shower, my eyes came to my hands. The dark red blood now crusted over my skin. My chest rose and fell heavily, panic slowly starting to ooze in. Without another thought, and through a shaky breath, I got into the shower and stood under the scorching hot water. Clothes and all. Running the palm of my hands over my face and pushing my hair back, I watched as the water that was pooled at my feet began to slowly run red. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, descending down my face. Swiping at my cheeks, irritated, I slowly undressed, throwing my clothes into a pile near the sink. I helped kill someone tonight. I dry retched, my hand flying up to cover my mouth as my throat clogged with vomit. I quickly dashed out of the shower, leaning over the toilet just in time to unload the contents into the bowl.
“Kitty…” Nate walked into the bathroom just as I was wiping the residue off of my mouth. He shut the door behind himself and leaned against the door, putting one leg up to rest against it. We were so far gone past the awkward-naked phase, that I didn’t even bat an eyelash when he entered. He had seen me naked more than any brother should. Step or not.
“Nate, please,” I pleaded, snatching the mouthwash and taking a swig before spitting it out in the sink. I closed the toilet lid and took a seat. “I helped kill someone tonight, my boyfriend is a liar, and owns his very own fucking wardrobe of Narnia, only instead of walking through and seeing lions and shit, I’m walking into a dark smoky past filled with secrets—all of which he is obviously hiding from me—Then there’s my mom, who isn’t really my mom, but I have thought she was my mom all my life—who I thought shot herself, but is actually still alive—and had also slept with my somewhat boyfriend. Did I miss anything? Oh yeah, I’m a freaking Venari, not a Montgomery, so my whole life is a fucking lie.”
Nate came closer until his hand was wrapping around my arm, and then before I could protest, he scooped his other under my upper thigh, lifting me up off the floor. “Get in the shower, Kitty.” I couldn’t control it anymore, sobs broke out and tears spilled down my cheeks. It wasn’t a pretty cry either, it was an ugly cry. The kind people make memes out of.
Nate growled, and then squeezed me into his chest harder before stepping in, under the water with me still wrapped up in his arms.
“Why are you like this?” I asked through hiccups, lifting my head off his shoulder to look into his eyes. Water was pelting down against mine, but I ignored it, I ignored the sting from the water hitting my eyes, because looking into his felt like home. Nate felt more like home to me than this damn house did. I knew right then and there that I would be okay in life. I’d make it. As long as he and I were always on good terms. I could never lose Nate and survive it.
He paused, seeming to ponder over how he should reply. “I’m not like this with… everyone.”
“Just me?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. Everyone sort of knew the answer to that question. Nate was… picky about who he allowed into his life. It was all part of the charm. In saying that, all of the Kings were like that, and I was beginning to think it had something to do with their heritage.
“And…” I knew that he was about to say Tillie, but I offered him a small smile instead, so he didn’t have to say her name out loud. I knew he loved me. He once said he was in love with me, and I’m unsure if he still felt that way, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt that if it ever came down to it, it would always be Tillie. They had something, shared something, something that I recognized, only because I was the exact same with Bishop. When Tillie disappeared, it pained him. So agonizingly so that he never spoke of it. We shared that common bond, in a way.
“I know,” I broke off in a whisper, patting his big bicep. “and you can let me down now.” He complied, slowly placing me on my feet. I stepped under the water as soon as I was grounded, grabbing the soap and squeezing some into my hand. “Take these off.” I pinched at the elastic band of his basketball shorts, but his hand flew out to stop me. My eyes snapped to his and a chill shuddered over my spine. His eyes darkened, but remained weak and lazy, yet totally on fire, and that’s when I realized we needed to draw the line—again.
“Sorry,” I muttered, turning and rinsing out my hair, my back now facing him.
“You know how much I want you, Madison, but it’s never going to happen. It’s best we don’t tease each other with what-ifs.”
“I know,” I whispered my answer, turning back around and twisting my long hair in one big knot. I reached for his cheek and then gently pressed my lips to his. It was supposed to be the kind of kiss you give your first love before saying goodbye, harmless, tentative, warm, soft, comfortable, familiar, hot, sensual, sexual… oh oh…
I jerked back to search his eyes, my body slightly caught up in the moment.
He groaned painfully, his hand clutching his crotch. “Get out, Kitty, before I fuck you so hard, you’ll be calling me Bishop.” That was effective, it was like an ice bucket getting doused over my head. I stepped out
of the shower, wrapping my silk robe around myself and then brushing my teeth. My slightly bloodied clothes caught my attention just as I was reaching for the door handle. “What will happen to the body?”
The shower cut off and then Nate strutted out, in all his naked glory out of the corner of my eye. He followed my line of sight, down to the clothes, and his eyes connected with mine again. “That will get handled, as will those. I’ll bag ‘em, you’ll never have to look at that shit again.” His tone was light as if he was talking about football, or who he had slept with the last weekend.
“You speak like you do it every night.”
“I do it enough,” was all he said. I pulled open my side of the bathroom, heading straight for my bed. Yanking back the sheets and cover, I slipped into the cool, clean sheets. Inhaling through the smell of fresh lemon and lavender, I turned to face my patio door and kept my eyes glued on the stars that speckled through the dark sphere. I had witnessed too many things tonight. Things that I could not explain, and things I’m not entirely sure that I wanted to explain, but I couldn’t hide or run from the fact that it was all there, in front of me. As bright as the glittering stars in the sky.
I helped kill someone tonight, and although my soul may be too far gone to save now, tomorrow was a new day, and I wouldn’t shed another tear about this night again.
“Bishop…” Dad started, just as I watched Madison and Joseph drive off with Nate. I tried to ignore him, like usual, but it never worked, like usual.
“What?” I snapped, pulling out my phone and dialing the cleaning crew.
“Son, I could have done that,” he gestured to my phone, but I raised my eyes up to his, unbothered. “This is what you have been training me for, don’t act surprised when I use my initiative.”
“Yo! Bro? We’re gonna take Brantley home, dawg. He needs to rest and shit,” Ace called out, throwing open his car door. Hunter and Jase had long since left, what with Hunter in a shit about Madison being his sister. So from what I saw here, the rest of the guys were jumping in with Ace and Eli.
I nudged my head. “Yeah.” I’d deal with Brantley tomorrow, see where his head was at. I’d been worried about him for a while now because he was always trigger happy. I never really understood why, but because our training covered how to conceal our opaque pasts, I figured that was what he was doing. I never knew the depth of his scars until tonight.
“B?” My eyes closed at that voice and my jaw transmuted to stone. “B, please—”
“Shut the fuck up!” I yelled, cutting her off and finally allowing my eyes to go to her. “Both of you!” I gestured to her and Elizabeth. “Do you both have any idea the shit you’ve caused just now?”
“Actually, me.” My dad stepped closer, slicking his hair back and popping the collar on his suit. “They’ve both been back for weeks now, waiting for you to make a mistake. Tonight, you decided to go on a rampage and shoot up my club. You can’t get away with it that easy. Son or not.” He came closer to me and leaned into my ear. “You may be a monster, son, but remember the beast you learned from.” Then he leaned back. “Now, your mother is away filming in Costa Rica, so Khales will be staying with us.”
“The fuck she is!” I roared, fighting the rage that threatened to be unleashed. “No way in hell.”
“Actually, yes, she is,” he answered matter-of-factly. I watched as he slowly made his way towards the Range Rover. “Get in the car, son.” Something wasn’t right. There was something he wasn’t telling me.
We all got into the SUV, and once the clean-up crew had arrived, we pulled out onto the road. I found myself struggling to bite my tongue the whole way to Madison’s house. I wanted to know what the fuck had gotten into my dad, but I knew that there was one person walking this earth who I couldn’t read—and that was him.
Elizabeth got out, shutting the door, and I pressed my middle finger against the glass window. “I’ll talk with you soon, Hector.”
He looked toward her out of the corner of his eyes, and then slowly nodded. “Sure. You have my number.” Anyone that doesn’t know dad would miss what happened there, the silent exchange charged by lack of eye contact.
We pulled out of the driveway and I cranked my head slightly to face him. “So when did you and Elizabeth start fucking?”
13.
Retribution
It had been many months since I had last written a paragraph in this book. I hoped that one day, it fell in the right hands. In the hands of a silver swan. I pray it does not become the crux of all things to do with the Kings. For days, I’d been conducting a plan to bring retribution to Humphrey, but I’d been struggling with my anger toward him, which had me making not very good decisions when it came to the plan.
“Elizabeth…” My maid, Maree, entered the room, carrying my recent bundle of joy. “Ma’am, Humphrey is back from hunting.”
My face fell, as with my gut. “Oh.”
I wasn’t ready to see him. I headed to Maree and put my hands underneath my son.
“Hello, my dear. Are you ready to meet your father?” I just hoped he liked the name Hector.
What? I slammed the book closed so hard the dust particles from the previous century skyrocket to the ceiling. But, it did make a lot of sense. So Hector was related to Humphrey and Elizabeth—we already knew that. Hector was a far too strange name to bring it down to pure coincidence if you didn’t already know.
A sharp knock on my door pulled me out of my thoughts. “Come in!”
It opened, and Nate popped his head around the corner. I relaxed, all my muscles loosening. “Since when do you knock?” Flopping back down, I wriggled under the fluffy feather down cover, pulling it up to my mouth. He sauntered in shirtless with nothing but his Calvin briefs on, his glorious muscles tensing with each step, and then he did exactly the kind of thing only Nate could get away with doing—he slipped right under my blanket.
“Nate!” I whacked him with the back of my hand. “I didn’t invite you into my bed.”
He sunk in deeper and tugged the blanket up farther. “Since when do I need an invite.”
“Why are you here?” I’m still reeling from the events of last night. Nothing made sense but I could slowly feel myself growing stronger, mentally. Slowly, being the key word there.
His arms came out and tucked under his head, just as his eyes connected with mine. “Oh come on, there’s a thunderstorm happening outside.”
“So?” I argued, casting a quick look at the alarm clock beside my bed. “It’s eight a.m, haven’t you got some sort of King business to do?”
His eyes narrowed, and then a smirk slowly touched the corner of his mouth. “No, Kitty. I’m all yours. All day.” He pressed each word with the syllables rolling off his tongue.
I groaned, reaching for the remote on my bedside table. “I’ll make you watch The Notebook.”
He laughed, staggering up farther on the bed, his arm hooking around my body. He pulled me closer to him. “You hate The Notebook.” He knew me too well.
I pressed play on Banshee, snuggling into his warm hard chest. Circling the skull tattoo over his rib cage, I whispered, “Why couldn’t it have been you.”
His arm clenched around me and I gazed up at him, his eyes searching mine. “You don’t think I ask myself that same question every day? Fuck, Kitty…” He fixed his focus ahead of himself briefly, and my eyes greedily took in his sharp jaw and soft lips. Why am I looking at his lips? Because I knew how they felt pressed against mine? Because I want to feel them against mine again? It was then that I realized he was back to glaring down at me.
“Kiss me.”
“Mads, I—”
“—Nate?” I breathed out heavily. “Kiss me.”
He let out a throaty groan, then hooked his finger under my chin, tilting my head up to his lips. They softly pressed against mine, and my heart thudded in my chest, butterflies roaring deep in my belly. My hand went to the back of his neck as I opened my mouth, allowing his tongue to slip inside. I
tilted my head to give him a little more access, then he groaned again, his arm tightening around my neck. That feral sound shot straight down to my lower regions. I inched my leg toward his until it was pressing against his thigh, testing how far he’d let me go before ordering me to stop. Only he grabbed onto it and pulled me on top so I was straddling his waist. Without thinking twice, I quickly searched his eyes and he mine. It was a fleeting moment of pause. A quick second guess. But before either of us could protest, our lips were colliding, my fingers were tangled in his hair and my shirt was coming off. He threw it onto the floor and halted, leaning back to take in my naked chest. “Damn, Kitty.” My cheeks heated briefly. For some reason, it was different between Nate and I this time. We sort of always knew it was sexual, there was always something there, but we hid behind our family and Bishop to simmer the tension down. Thinking of Bishop had me squirming, so before I could explore that any further, my lips went to his neck. I sucked on his skin, biting down on his flesh in my retreat. He moaned, his hand tugging at my hair to bring my face back down to his.
“We doing this? And choose your next words very carefully because I’m about to tear into that forbidden territory with no fucking shame.”
I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth and nodded. “He hurt me. Too much, Nate. He’s done… too much.”
“This a revenge fuck?”
“What?” His question was valid, but I asked ‘what’ just to give myself a few beats to decide how to answer, but I didn’t have to think hard. “Of course not!”
He grinned. “You sure? I wouldn’t give a fuck. You can ride on my dick for any reason you need.”
I chuckled, my head tilting back. “Nate!” I hit his chest just as he came up and sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. I felt him harden under me and I moaned, tilting my head back while my hand found his neck again. Slowly I started to rub myself over his length before dropping my mouth back to his, sucking his tongue into my mouth and biting down on the bar of his tongue ring. Reaching to the waistband of his shorts, my fingers slipped under, sweat dripping off my skin from the pleasure the friction was giving me. I saw nothing but Nate’s eyes, rimmed with fire and burning with need. I heard nothing but the deep intakes of our breaths with the occasional moan, and I felt nothing but his hands gripping my ass, hips, and then slowly, he slid beneath my underwear. I went to yank his shorts down as his thumb pressed against my clit, putting everything into first gear and hitting straight into sixth - fuck second, third, fourth and fifth.
