Shattered King

by Sherilee Gray

  “This is Doctor Evans. I’m . . . I’m so sorry to tell you this . . . but your mother passed away early this morning.”

  That’s all I heard, because the phone and the cup I was still holding slipped from my fingers. Hot coffee splashed over my bare feet, the clatter of the mug echoing loudly as it rolled off the rug and onto the hardwood floor. I went down a second later.

  The next thing I felt were strong arms around me. Hunter’s voice. It sounded muffled, probably because the blood rushing through my ears was deafening, drowning him out. I crushed my face against his chest, clinging like he was a lifeline. We moved, and then we were on the couch. Everything around me vanished, narrowing to a pinprick. All that remained was pain, so raw I was drowning. I had to focus on each breath, in and out, just getting through the next second, then the next.

  I had no idea how long we sat like that. I was numb, inside and out. I didn’t even know for sure if I was still in Hunter’s arms or if I was somewhere else entirely.

  More voices broke through the noise in my head, then I was jostled, lifted, and we were moving. A door closed, and a second later I was lying on a bed. Hunter’s bed. He lay down beside me and rolled me into him, wrapping his body around me. I breathed in his scent, the now familiar smell of his body wash. He kissed the top of my head. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

  I said nothing. I had nothing to say. My mom. My mom was gone. I’d left her, left her with that sick asshole. I’d abandoned her, and now I would never get the chance to make up for that, never get the chance to show her how much I loved her, how sorry I was. If I’d been stronger, if I’d fought harder . . .

  I shut down.

  I felt it when it happened. The ugliness of my past coiling tight, tighter with every breath I took, until I was about to snap, and my mind just—shut down.

  I don’t really know what happened after that. How long I lay there.

  It must have been a while. I had snippets, like clips of a movie. People coming and going—Van, Jude, and I think Ruby, too. Hunter feeding me, taking me to the toilet, showering me. Josh’s scent, his small body asleep beside me. The doctor, the one that sewed up my arm, I remembered him coming and talking to me. I don’t know if I talked back, and if I did, what I said.

  That brought me to now.

  I don’t know what made this time different. But when Hunter came in and lay beside me, like I knew he’d been doing on and off the whole time, the feel of his body against mine, his fingers smoothing back my hair, it penetrated the grief, the feeling of utter hopelessness.

  I rolled to my back, stared up into his ruggedly handsome face. “How long?” I whispered.

  Relief transformed his expression so blatantly it couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

  “Three days.”

  Three days I’d shut the world out around me. “I’m sorry,” I said.

  He cupped my face and ran his thumb across my cheek. “What for?”

  “Checking out.”

  He leaned in, buried his face against my throat, and stayed there for several long seconds. When he lifted his head, his gaze was heavy, pained. “You scared the shit out of me.” Those bright blue eyes moved over my features. “I felt like I was losing you all over again.”

  Tears stung my eyes and I swallowed them back.

  “Don’t,” he rasped. “Don’t fucking hold it back. Fuck, baby, you gotta let it out.” He moved his fingers through my hair. “You lost your mom, sweetheart. You gotta let that pain out.”

  “I can’t . . .”

  He shook his head, silencing me. “You got regrets when it comes to her, but in the end, that shit is useless. It will do nothing but eat you up inside. She loved you, you loved her, and you both knew it. The way she looked at you . . .” He kissed my temple. “Nothing else matters but that, babe. Nothing. You need to let it out.”

  I stared up into his eyes, forcing down the boulder in my throat so I could speak. “I’ll break,” I whispered.

  “Lulu . . .”

  “I’ll break if I let it out.”

  His stared into my eyes, heat, warmth, determination, all aimed at me. “You break.” He smoothed his thumb over my lower lip and kissed me just below my eye. “I’ll put you back together. I promise you that.”

  Oh God.

  That was when the first tear slid down my cheek.

  I buried my face against his chest, fists clutching his T-shirt, and let the tears flow. Hunter wrapped me tight in his arms and held me while I fell apart.

  * * *

  A week had passed since my break down in Hunter’s arms. Though I was still emotional, I was starting to feel human again. It was thanks to not only Hunter, but his friends, and the woman sitting beside me.

  “Um . . . Ruby?” I sat on the couch, eyes glued to the TV as background music started to play—all bow-chic-a-wow-wow. I turned to the King Agency’s receptionist sitting beside me, her glass of rum and coke tilted dangerously as she stared at the television, mouth hanging open.

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think this is Dirty Dancing. That sure as hell isn’t Patrick Swayze.”

  Ruby had come over to keep me company. Hunter was still being cautious. I knew he was still worried about my state of mind. But even more so today, the day after my mom’s funeral. He had something he had to do and didn’t want to leave me with just one of the guys. He’d wanted someone here with me who would actually speak to me . . . and not freak out if I randomly started crying again. Ruby volunteered.

  Some dude in a tool belt and nothing else came onto the shot, boner bobbing enthusiastically in front of him.

  “Dang,” Ruby whispered.

  She’d certainly managed to take my mind off things. And dang was right, the guy was hung like an elephant. It made my eyes water just thinking about something that size coming anywhere near me. “Where did you get this from?”

  She tore her eyes from the TV. “It’s mine—well, the cover is. The movie must belong to my roommate.”

  The music changed and we both turned back to the screen. The guy was lubing up, the woman bent over the washing machine. “Oh, dear God,” I said.

  “No . . . he’s not gonna put that giant thing in there, is he . . . ?” Ruby’s voice trailed off as he moved in behind her.

  We both squealed. Loud.

  The sound of the bathroom door crashing open came a second later. Ruby kicked into action, diving for the TV, knocking the bowl of chips off the coffee table and landing on her belly with an oomph. Neco, who was watching us tonight, came flying into the living room, gun drawn. He’d asked to use the shower when he’d arrived straight from his run, and now wore nothing but a towel, which sat dangerously low on his hips. The guy looked fierce. Like a hero from one of the action films I’d watched with Hunter.

  He scanned the room, then his gaze slid to Ruby, who was still scrambling commando style toward the DVD player on her belly.

  His eyes went to the TV before they dropped back to Ruby. “What the fuck?”

  She slid the last couple of inches and hit the stop button. “Um . . .”

  “What in the fuck, Ruby?” Neco growled.

  The dude was seriously scary when he wanted to be. I watched Ruby’s eyes go big as she took him in, only now noticing he was butt naked apart from the wet, thin towel clinging to him—everywhere.

  “Um . . .” she said again.

  I didn’t blame her for being at a loss for words, confronted with all that bulk, that smooth, inked brown skin. It was impossible to miss the fact he was an extremely good-looking guy.

  “Ruby,” he barked.

  Whoa! Not cool.

  I twisted to look fully at Hunter’s best friend. He was beyond pissed. In fact, the guy looked ready to explode.

  “It was a mistake,” I said, trying to deflect that scary energy away from my new friend.

  He ignored me.

  Ruby narrowed her eyes, seemingly oblivious to his dangerous mood. “It must be Scott’s.” She held up the
Dirty Dancing cover. “He must’ve put it in the wrong case.”

  Neco’s jaw got tight. “One: that fucking waste of space you live with is getting a visit from me.” Ruby opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “And two: I find out this wasn’t a mistake? That you were pulling your usual shit? I won’t be happy, do you understand? Lulu doesn’t need this. She buried her mother yesterday. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  It was fast, but I saw the hurt flash across her face at his words. These two obviously had some kind of relationship outside of work. It went deeper; even I could see that. The way Neco spoke to her, it was like he saw her as an annoying little sister, not a valued employee.

  I held up my hands. “Hey, don’t bring me into this. Like I said, it was just an accident. She didn’t mean any harm.”

  That pale green gaze, so striking against his dark skin, flicked to me, then back to Ruby. Ruby got to her feet then, a look on her face that made me want to cover my head with a cushion before all hell broke loose.

  Neco stared at her hard, but she seemed unaffected, all attitude now, front and center. She shoved her glasses up her nose. “I didn’t know you were such a prude, Neco. It’s just a little porn.” She smirked when his eyes flashed and his jaw went from tight to granite. “It was hot. What? Are you threatened? Worried you don’t measure up?”

  “Ruby,” he gritted out.

  I tried not to look, but my eyes were drawn to the way Neco’s towel was lifting in the front. Okay, I was no longer getting sibling vibes off these two. The air was crackling, electric. The man also had no cause for an inferiority complex in that department. Nope.

  “I think that’s my cue to leave,” she said. “Maybe I’ll go hit a club . . .”

  “Do not fuck with me. Not tonight,” he rumbled. His voice had dropped, so deep, so low, it sounded like thunder. “I have to stay here and watch Lulu. I won’t be around to bail your ass out of trouble.”

  Ruby shrugged. “Maybe my ass wants trouble.”

  He growled, like a fricking wild animal.

  Ruby grabbed her bag, hitched it over her shoulder, leaned down, and hugged me. “Sorry, Lulu. But I need to take off.” Then she flounced out, slamming the door shut behind her.

  Neco watched her go then stomped off, slamming the bathroom door behind him. And I sat there wondering what the hell just happened.

  When he finally surfaced again, he was quiet, surly. Eventually, after trying to make small talk, which failed miserably, I headed off to bed. The guy was obviously not in the mood to chit-chat, and I had no idea how late Hunter would be. So I left him to it.

  Hunter had been amazing. He’d helped with the funeral arrangements, stuck by my side, took care of Josh. Today was the first day we’d been apart since I found out my mother had passed away.

  And I could admit, I felt a little lost without him.

  I missed him.

  The funeral had been a quiet one. Just a few close friends. He’d held my hand the entire time, was my strength when I felt like I had none left.

  There’d also been a police presence, and every one of the King Agency guys there as well, just in case, but Pierce hadn’t made an appearance. Thank God.

  I tugged on Hunter’s Ramones T-shirt and climbed under the covers beside Josh. I’d slept in Hunter’s bed all week. I don’t know how it happened. It just had. It’d just felt so right, God, and safe. His body wrapped around mine, warm, strong. But with him not here—well, I didn’t want to be alone, so I snuggled closer to my son, blanked my mind, and closed my eyes.

  But my mind wouldn’t shut up. Losing my mom had hit hard, the lost time, something that dug at me, festered inside me daily. I wanted Pierce caught. I wanted to go to bed at night knowing that son of a bitch wasn’t living it up on some island paradise, destroying someone else’s life. I didn’t want him to get away with it. I wanted him to pay for what he did to me, to Hunter, and the time he stole, the time he took from all of us.

  Because of him, I’d lost pieces of myself. Important, vital pieces. Pierce had broken me in a way I didn’t know could ever be repaired. The people that cared for me, loved me, they deserved all of me in return. Something I didn’t know I would ever be able to give.

  He needed to pay for that. I didn’t care how sick and twisted it made me, but I wanted him to hurt while that payment was being dished out.

  I don’t know how long I lay there, staring into darkness, but I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes again there was no low hum of the TV coming from the living room. The place was completely silent. I checked my phone. 2:30 a.m.

  I reached out for my son, but the space beside me was empty.

  Panic tore through me, and I shoved back the blankets, racing to the living room.

  It was dimly lit, the lamp beside the couch the only light on in the big room. Hunter lay on the couch on his back, bare-chested, eyes closed. Josh lay on him, thumb in his mouth, out cold, his little face tucked under Hunter’s chin. Hunter’s muscular, inked arms wrapped around my boy, protective and strong. Perfect.

  My gaze lifted back to Hunter. His eyes were open.

  “Hey,” I whispered.

  “Hey,” he said back.

  “Did he wake?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thanks for taking care of him.”

  He just stared at me, then shook his head and held out a hand. “Come here.”

  I went to him, climbed onto the couch beside them. Hunter wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into his side. One arm around me, one around Josh. My heart squeezed, but it wasn’t in pain; it was in happiness. I turned into him and kissed his pec. “I missed you.”

  His arm got tighter. “Missed you, too.”

  We were silent for a while. I absorbed his heat, the comfort he was giving me. Then I tilted my head back, looking up at him. “What’s going on between Neco and Ruby?”

  “Don’t know. She likes to mess with him, and he’s a glutton for punishment.”

  “Oh.” I thought about that for a bit. “I think Neco’s attracted to her.”

  “Maybe.”

  “No maybe about it.”

  “Something happen?”

  “Let’s just say, he couldn’t hide it,” I said against his shoulder.

  He chuckled. “Shit.”

  “Yep.”

  He was quiet again for a little while then gave me another squeeze, and said into my hair, “You doing okay?”

  “Yeah.” Things were far from okay, and we both knew it, but for now, this moment—I was more than okay. I was content. For the first time in a very long time.

  I snuggled closer, wrapped my arm around both my boys, and closed my eyes.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Hunter

  I woke to wet fingers slapping my forehead.

  Opening my eyes, I looked up to see Josh, who was supporting himself with a hand on my head, leaning over, face so close to his mother’s they were touching noses. “Wake up!” he yelled.

  Lulu’s eyes popped open. She blinked a couple times before a huge smile spread across her face. Shit, the woman was gorgeous. She grabbed Josh around the waist and pulled him closer, tickling him. Our son lost it, laughing his ass off and wriggling like crazy. Lulu chuckled and I couldn’t stop the huge-assed grin that spread across my face. I could get used to waking up like this every morning. My woman, my son tucked in beside me, safe—happy.

  Having to leave her last night had sucked, but we’d gotten a line on Pierce. The stupid fuck still hadn’t left New York. He either had some seriously big balls or was fucked in the head, because he’d been spotted at the funeral yesterday. He’d stayed back, obviously disguised, but he’d been there, outside the church. The cops had gone after him, but he’d gone underground. He’d screwed himself, not running, not getting as far from Lulu as he could, when he could.

  The guy’s only hope now was staying low and waiting for the dust to settle, then making a break for it. I wouldn’t let that happen, though
. I had too much to lose now. And that sick fuck was a threat to the two people that mattered most to me.

  Lulu quit tickling, and Josh scrambled off the couch and over to his toy cars. She shifted to her side then lifted up on her elbow, looking down at me. Her eyes shone, bright and beautiful. She was looking at me in a way she hadn’t for a fucking long time. Some of that pain that she wore like armor was gone. She still had a way to go, but there was a lightness there that made my gut clench. Shit, she took my breath away.

  The last week she’d been grieving—hell, she’d been in shock. As much as I wanted her straining beneath me, I’d have to be the biggest kind of asshole to expect that from her. So I let her be.

  I’d give her all the time she needed. But waiting for her to make that shift, to finally turn to me for more than comfort, was fucking hard. Not pushing like I wanted to nearly killed me. I’d gone three years without this woman, and not a night passed in all that time that I didn’t dream about her, even when I hated her for what I thought she’d done. I’d still craved her. So when she slid her fingers across my jaw to cup the side of my face, I stilled. And when her gaze dropped to my mouth and she ran her thumb below my lower lip, I sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Morning,” she whispered, then leaned in and pressed her mouth against mine.

  It wasn’t a peck. No, she moved her mouth against mine in a way that had my heart pounding in my chest and my dick throbbing against the zipper of my jeans. I dropped a hand to her hip, pulling her in closer, the other thrusting into her soft hair and taking over, sliding my tongue across her lower lip, nipping. She opened for me, gave it back, tongue moving against mine in a way that told me just how hot she was for me.

  If I didn’t put on the brakes now, though the idea made me want to growl in frustration, no way could I stop from taking this further. Jesus, I didn’t fucking want to, but I couldn’t let this get out of control. So I slowed things down, and it seriously fucking hurt to do it. My cock wasn’t thanking me for it, that’s for damn sure. I gave her ass a squeeze, because I couldn’t help it, and ended the kiss. “Morning,” I said against her soft, now sexily swollen lips.