Destructive King

by Van Dyken, Rachel

  He’d always been like that.

  Intense yet warm, in a way that I’d never been able to explain. As he got closer, I noticed the coldness that had started to seep into his eyes—that was what this life did, after all—the mafia life. He’d been recruited by Ash, and now—well now that was who he answered to no matter what.

  Now he was in this, whether he liked it or not.

  The warmth dissipated as fear replaced it. Fear for my friend and for the uncertain future under such a cruel royal rule.

  “Tank.” I grinned and then held out my arms as he pulled me in for a tight hug. He always smelled so good, like a hot guy should smell, though it was almost as if I could still sense the faint hint of blood in the air.

  So much had changed since he’d been my savior last year at Eagle Elite University.

  Next to the OG bosses, he was the only one who knew everything about me, who basically grew up next door and promised to one day come back and let me ride with him on his white horse.

  Too bad it ended up being more black Chevy Impala, but still. In his own way, he’d tried to save me.

  But sometimes, the girl had to save herself, and with my newfound freedom, I discovered I preferred that.

  Being my own hero.

  Straightening my own damn crown.

  I was better at it.

  Because people let you down.

  But me? I was still standing, wasn’t I?

  Then again, I’d yet to be put in a position where I’d tested my own theory, but in my daydreams? I was a badass. So what if I couldn’t throw a punch without wanting to cry and nearly hurled when I saw blood?

  “Wow, girl.” Tank’s grin was wide. “FaceTime chats did not do you justice.” He reached for my thick chin-length hair and gave it a little tug. Butterflies erupted in my stomach. He’d always been so beautiful. Safe. “It suits you.”

  “I was too hot over there.” I lied.

  Ash had said my hair was pretty.

  The first thing I did overseas was cut it.

  His eyes flickered to my mouth briefly, and then he was reaching for my black suitcase, tugging the handle up with one loud click. “Just this one?”

  Warmth rushed to my cheeks. “Yeah, thanks, by the way, for picking me up.”

  I’d almost lost my nerve when I’d texted him, no idea why, but now I felt nervous around one of my best friends.

  Great.

  Tank just shrugged. “I figured you’d need reinforcements going back to that hellhole.”

  He clenched his teeth and looked away; it looked like he was thinking about killing someone.

  I never told him exactly what happened.

  But it was Tank.

  And he was around all of the Five Families twenty-four seven as both an FBI informant and as a made man.

  He could probably make an educated guess that things went horribly wrong the minute I stepped inside Ash’s domain.

  Then again, he had problems of his own.

  One day he would have to choose.

  Right now, he just straddled the line.

  He was living with Sergio’s family for the time being since Sergio was one of the ones who had the most experience with the FBI next to Phoenix.

  And me?

  I was the orphan that got to rely on the charity of the great Abandonato Family. I had to admit, I did miss Luc, Violet, Izzy, and Chase—a lot.

  But Ash?

  My heart sank.

  Was he still depressed?

  Still angry?

  Hateful?

  Horrible?

  Why did I even care?

  Finish classes and get the heck out—my only job at this point. Besides, once I lost my usefulness with The Family, I’d probably be kindly asked to leave anyway. Sent packing with enough money and a new identity, isn’t that what they did in the movies? Well, I mean either that or off people. Did they say it like that still?

  I worried my lower lip and nearly ran into Tank’s muscled back as he muttered, “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  A black Tesla screeched to a halt directly in front of the curb.

  I peered around Tank, digging my fingers into his biceps to keep myself from falling over because…

  Ash Abandonato.

  Of course, the angry one looked sexy.

  Of course, he seemed to be walking toward us in slow motion.

  His aviators only accented his chiseled jaw, pretty much perfect six foot three body, tight long-sleeve black shirt and ripped jeans. Was it so much to ask for him to look as bad as he’d made me feel that night?

  Who was I kidding?

  Multiple nights.

  I willed the tears to stay in.

  I was over it.

  Over his stupid kiss.

  Over those gentle words that night.

  “Until the stars fall, Claire.” He’d messed up their phrase, making it feel new like it was ours when it had only ever been their sky, not our stars. His mouth was so tender as he pressed me back against the mattress. His expert tongue sliding past every defense I thought I’d erected.

  Our bodies molded together.

  Was this what people talked about when they said they just knew?

  This feeling right here?

  He pulled away, his eyes glassy, filled with tears. “Miss you so fucking much.”

  “Do better,” I whispered. “Be better than this, Ash.”

  “How?” His voice cracked.

  “You live the life they would have wanted you to live. You need—” A tear ran down my cheek. “—you need to let go.”

  “Anything but that.” He shook his head and then buried his face beneath a blanket of my hair. “I’m not good without you.”

  “Yes.” I took a deep breath. “You are.”

  Tank’s possessive stance then sudden shove backward pulled me from my memories as I waited for the gates of Hell to open and swallow its number one sinner whole. When I glanced down, I wanted to commit murder. How was he able to even make Adidas slides look expensive and sleek?

  I didn’t think it was possible to hate him more, but I did. I so did. Because how dare he smile at both of us like he had a right to even look at me?

  In front of me, Tank tensed, every muscle on high alert.

  In a huff, I moved around him and put my hands on my hips; clearly, Italy had been good for me because I was ready for a fight. Ready to hand my sunglasses to Tank and throw a punch even though I’d probably break my hand.

  Or so I thought.

  And then he made eye contact.

  And I lost all nerve, ready to dive into the nearest trashcan and rock back and forth.

  “Hey.” Ash frowned down at me, and then slowly, a sultry smirk appeared on his face as he glanced back at Tank. “Who’s your friend?”

  I opened my mouth, but Tank shoved me behind him again and laughed awkwardly. “Nobody, man, just a friend.”

  “Your friend have a name?” I could almost imagine Ash’s sexy grin; the way it could literally melt clothes off a girl’s body was so infuriating, I had to imagine setting him on fire in order to feel better about my life.

  “Nah, I think I’m keeping this one for myself.” Tank shrugged. “You know how we all like our secrets, yeah?”

  “Yeah…” Ash drew out his response.

  “So you need anything else, or…?” Tank was already violently tugging me in the opposite direction. I stumbled after him, nearly faceplanting against the concrete.

  Ash sighed in annoyance, following after us. “Look whatever. My dad’s gonna kill me. Traffic was complete shit—”

  Tank halted and shot him a glare over his shoulder. I tried but couldn’t keep my eyes off this man who had yet to really acknowledge me. What an ass!

  Holding up a hand in surrender, Ash released a soft laugh. “Not the point, have you seen Annie? You know, about yay high.”

  I was NOT that short!

  His hand was literally halfway to his chest, the bastard!

  And the go
rgeous idiot just kept going. “Constantly has her nose in the air, most likely a pair of pearls wrapped around her neck.” He sighed and shook his head in what appeared to be disappointment. “I just hope she burned the Keds and cardigans… Then again, sometimes the cardigans did do something for me—”

  “Stop talking,” Tank said through clenched teeth.

  But it was Ash, so of course, he just put his hands on his hips and kept right on going. “Bro, what’s your deal? You still upset that I kicked your ass yesterday? It’s how we’re training the new recruits, you know? It sucks—hey, did you ever find your missing molar?”

  Tank shifted between his feet. “No, but it’s fine; teeth can be replaced.”

  “And dicks cannot.” Ash nodded solemnly like he was spouting wisdom. “Anyway, back to Annie, seriously, have you seen her?” He scratched his head like he was dumbfounded about why I wouldn’t be waiting for him at the airport. Was he insane? “Her plane was supposed to have just landed, bro. Come on, you know Annie! Looks like she’s always late for Sunday school.” He gave a sarcastic grin. “Either that or late to teach it.” He laughed at his own joke.

  That bastard!

  All right.

  I was done.

  I shoved Tank to the side, which meant he moved maybe two inches, and I made my appearance, jamming my hands on my hips. “Had I known the devil was coming to pick me up, I would have put on some garlic instead of my pearls.”

  In one fluid movement, Ash jerked off his sunglasses and stared down at me in confusion, and then squinted harder, taking in my black leggings, black combat boots, and cream sweater. “I’m sorry, who are you again?”

  I shoved both hands against his chest, sending him stumbling backward, then yanked off my sunglasses. “Apparently, your new Sunday school teacher. Spoiler alert, you’re going to hell!”

  His eyes widened as he eyed me up and down and then seemed to realize it looked like he was checking me out and quickly looked away, jaw clenched, anger back.

  Was it always going to be like this?

  My heart was already so wounded at this point, right along with my pride, they were getting wheeled toward the emergency room as if the year of healing hadn’t even happened.

  “Take me home, Tank.” I was suddenly exhausted as I tried sidestepping Ash, only to have his arm jerk out and grab my wrist. “Let me go!”

  “No,” he snapped, his fingers digging into me, reminding me of that night, of my mistake and gross mistrust. “I promised my dad I’d pick you up, ergo, you get your ass in my car, not his truck.”

  Tank lunged for him only to have Ash hold up his hand like he was God. I hated that it stopped Tank in his tracks. Hated it.

  “Remember who you serve, Tank,” Ash said in a cocky tone that basically meant Tank’s hands were tied even though I was convinced he wanted to cheerfully strangle Ash.

  According to their stupid mafia rules, Ash was basically Tank’s boss. Nobody crossed him, least of all someone who hadn’t even been given the title of captain yet. Though he deserved it, I knew why they waited; they wanted to make sure they could trust him.

  Which meant right now?

  I would have to get in that stupid Tesla and try not to cry.

  Because if I cried, he’d make fun of me.

  He’d ask me why I was crying again.

  And I wasn’t sure I could handle Ash making fun of me ever again.

  It was already hard enough breathing around him, let alone having to listen to the poison that fell from his mouth.

  I straightened my shoulders. “It’s fine, Tank; I’m a big girl.” I jerked my head toward Ash. “Get my bag.”

  “No please?”

  “Nope.” I popped the P then smiled sweetly. “You don’t deserve manners; why would I even waste words on you at this point?”

  He scoffed. “That’s rude.”

  I snorted. “Coming from you, I think that’s almost a compliment.”

  Tank opened the passenger side door, worry etched all over his preppy looking face. He was almost too All-American, too pure to look the part, but I knew his secrets.

  What he’d done.

  Who he’d silenced.

  Such a nice ruse.

  We all had them.

  I guess everyone but me.

  Maybe that was why Ash hated me so much.

  I didn’t know how to pretend.

  How to verbally spar.

  How to physically fight, at least well.

  I was just… me.

  And it bored him to tears, made him lash out, made him angry that I didn’t try to pretend to be anyone but who I was born to be.

  A girl who loved art.

  Who wore cardigans so people didn’t see too much.

  A girl who wore pearls because it was the only thing that was left of her dead parents.

  No, Ash wouldn’t want to know those boring details.

  He may discover he actually had a heart if he did.

  And the last thing I needed was Ash discovering he wasn’t as scary as he thought he was.

  No, he was more terrified than scared.

  Terrified, of losing everything.

  Tank reached for me. “Annie, text me if—”

  “She’s safer with me than anyone else in this city, or do you doubt my ability to protect her?” Ash crossed his arms in a challenge as I sunk down into my seat and prayed for the apocalypse.

  “Sorry, Ash.” Tank straightened. “You’re right; I’ll just check in later.”

  “Do that,” Ash snapped.

  He opened the driver’s side door, slammed it, then seemed pissed that the car wasn’t making enough noise as he sped out of the airport.

  I gripped the door handle to keep from getting flung through the actual door as he sped in and out of traffic, his long, lean fingers bracing the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead.

  “Hungry?” he asked with a gruff bark that had me jumping in my seat.

  Was he still doing pills? Drinking? Should he even be driving?

  “I’m fine,” I said softly.

  Do. Not. Cry.

  I lifted my chin a bit, remembering Aunt Sophia’s words.

  He gave me major side-eye and then jerked his head back toward the road. “You’re skin and bones.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut.

  When Aunt Sophia said it, she said it out of love because I couldn’t eat anything for the first few months.

  I had trouble existing, let alone eating.

  My lower lip trembled as I looked out my own window. “I got sick in Italy. I’m fine now, thanks for asking. It’s not because I’m choosing not to eat.” Jackass.

  “How sick?” He asked, again his voice so gruff that I wanted to shake him. Would it kill him to soften up a bit?

  With a sigh, I answered, “Sick enough that I had a rough first few months.”

  “Did you see a doctor?

  “Do you even care?” I snapped.

  His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “I’d be an animal not to care.”

  I just stared at him, letting the silence do the talking.

  He glanced over at me, then back at the road, then at me again. “You’re shitting me. You hate me that much?”

  “Pretty sure the hate’s mutual, Ash, which suites me just fine.”

  “What the hell did I ever do to you?” he roared.

  I was already exhausted. “The fact that you even have to ask yourself that question tells me all I need to know.” I grabbed my cell. “Can you take me over to Sergio’s first?”

  “You don’t live at Sergio’s,” he pointed out. “You live with me—us.”

  “I know where I’m currently staying, thanks.” My voice cracked. God, it was like he would never let me forget it. “I just want to hang out with Tank for a little bit before dinner—”

  “No,” he barked.

  “No?” I argued. “Who died and made you my dad?”

  “You said you were sick. If you were sick, that means yo
u need to rest, and you need food, no hanging out, no shopping, no guys. Just… no guys.”

  I gaped at him like he’d just grown a second and third head. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

  “Honestly, wish I wasn’t hearing myself.” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “Fucking hell!”

  I jumped a foot.

  “Sorry.” The fact that he actually apologized was more confusing than the outburst. “I’m… never mind. Long day.”

  “Tell me about it,” I muttered.

  The rest of the ride was quiet as we pulled up to the house. I missed it. It was like something out of a magazine, the perfect house to do a photoshoot in front of with its huge fountain in the middle, perfect brick, expensive cars parked out front.

  My life now.

  Weird.

  Ash grabbed my bag without me asking and then opened the front door for me just as Izzy popped into my line of vision. “You made it!”

  I was engulfed in a hug before I could say hi.

  She held me tight, then whispered. “You have no idea how much we need to talk about.”

  My smile felt strained. I really was tired.

  “Shit, Iz, let her at least change before you start terrorizing her.” Ash came to my defense.

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  He narrowed his right back.

  What was this?

  I leaned in.

  “What are you doing?” He smirked.

  I waved in front of his face. “Are you still taking—”

  Ash’s eyes went wide as saucers as he slammed a hand over my mouth and started dragging me down the hall. “Adult conversation, be right back. Iz, take her stuff up to her room? Thanks, you’re the best; I’ll do the dishes, okay bye!”

  He dragged me all the way back outside, around the pool, into the pool house, and all the way up the stairs into his room.

  It was impossible to fight him, and I really just wanted to be anywhere but there.

  “Get off!” I shoved him when he finally shut the door to his bedroom. “What the hell is your problem?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You dare talk to me like that?”

  “You dare kidnap me in your parents’ house?”

  “Hardly kidnapping.” He scowled. “I didn’t even use duct tape.”

  “What’s sad is you’re probably not joking.”

  “I never joke about a good kidnapping.”