Destructive King

by Van Dyken, Rachel

  She smiled and then walked back up to me and kissed me soundly on the mouth. “I probably won’t go until later this week, but I’ll text you.”

  “Send a nude along with that text, will ya?”

  She laughed and pulled me in for a hug. “We’ll get through it, right?”

  “We get through everything, Claire. We’ll get through this.”

  “I love you, you know. I do.” She clung to me tightly.

  “And I love you.” But even as I said the words, they tasted bitter in my mouth, like she didn’t understand the depth of my love.

  And she never would.

  I wanted to break my body in half so she could see how much of my heart she owned. It seemed no matter what I said, she wouldn’t ever get it.

  I just wish my words were enough.

  My actions enough.

  Everything I did, I did for her, in order to keep her safe.

  And on days like this, I felt like a fucking failure because it still wasn’t enough for her to feel like I could be a good father, was it? It still wasn’t fucking enough.

  “Marry me.” Junior’s words interrupted my trip down depressing-as-hell memory lane.

  “YES!” Serena jumped into the air and then jumped onto him as he swung her around. “But the ring?”

  Junior just sighed, pressing his forehead against hers. “It’s in my car; let’s go.”

  They ran up the stairs as Serena sang out, “Champagne in twenty, bitches.”

  “Why twenty?” King scratched his head.

  “Because the rest of the fifteen minutes is going to be spent with Serena, most likely on her knees servicing her king.” I shrugged and then started walking out of the ring.

  Wanting to be alone.

  And hating that no matter what—I always felt like I was.

  Chapter Twelve

  “The song is ended but the melody lingers on.” —Irving Berlin

  Annie

  I was still traumatized from my horrible week—and every ride home with Ash had been some of the most awkward and tense experiences of my life. Then again, he had most of my tense experiences in the ball of his fist, so I shouldn’t be that surprised. I couldn’t read him. At University, he seemed almost playful and protective, if that made any sense, instead of scary as hell. Though, when it came down to it…

  I’d liked it.

  Who was I kidding?

  I’d loved the fact that out of everyone on campus—it was enemy number one who decided to play hero. It gave me a glimpse of hope that maybe Ash wasn’t such a horrible person after all. Maybe deep down, he did have a heart; he just hadn’t known how to fix what was broken, so every time he tried to use it—it hurt.

  I could justify so many moments with him after that rescue.

  After he threatened everyone in class.

  And after he basically took ownership of my tears as if they were his and his alone. Did it make me sick that I liked it? That if I had to cry, I wanted it to be over him? Like a baptism of pain and longing all at once?

  Every time we pulled into the garage, he’d grip the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. Then he’d turn to me, open his mouth, and shut it again like he was trying to silence himself before he said something he’d regret.

  Which seemed to be his MO lately when we were alone.

  He always left me there, waiting, with my seatbelt still strapped and my chest still heavy from the trauma since that fateful day.

  What sort of person did it make me, that I would have done anything, sold my soul for him to reach across that console and squeeze my hand.

  I just wanted someone to tell me it was going to be okay.

  For someone to see me.

  Actually, see me.

  Not as the reason the love of his life was gone, but as my own person. God, it would feel so good to have that. Maybe that was why I liked Tank, but I would be lying to myself loving a man like Tank, wouldn’t I?

  He was more friend than lover.

  Savior.

  Safe.

  I deserved safe, damn it! So why was I attracted to broken and deranged?

  And why was I on the verge of tears—all because I just needed to be seen, to maybe have a hug, or a pat on the back, to be told that eventually, it would be okay, maybe not now, no now it was painful, but one day it wouldn’t be.

  I swiped the tear on my cheek and grabbed my bag, then slowly got out of a car that cost more than the average house in Chicago.

  I went from the garage to the kitchen and decided to make some food. Thankful that nobody was in there to watch me.

  I lived there, but I still felt weird eating their food, like the orphan caught stuffing their faces in the pantry for fear they wouldn’t get fed again. I couldn’t help it; when you have a past like mine, you learn to look over your shoulder in dread for the next time you take a misstep, and it seems that the only thing I was good at.

  Was offending people.

  Ash included.

  Heart heavy, I looked around the corner again and quickly opened the fridge door, my chest tight, wondering how long I had before someone barged into the kitchen and judged me for taking some lunch meat and cheese.

  I knew it was stupid.

  In my gut, I knew if I just said something to Chase, he’d probably build me a kitchen, he was so extravagant, but I wanted to still be treated like everyone else.

  Like Ash.

  Which left me in the position of feeling like a thief in need of an after school snack.

  I grabbed the mayo, some sliced cheese, and lunch meat, then went over to the bread box and tugged out some sourdough.

  I had my sandwich done in under a minute, crumbs cleaned from the counter, all traces of what I’d done gone, just as Phoenix rounded the corner.

  Anyone but the scary one.

  I had trouble looking him in the eyes most days. His were piercing, filled with secrets that I was convinced he’d sell to the highest bidder if he didn’t have a loving wife and son.

  “You see Chase?” He leaned against the door frame, his massive build taking up over half of it as he ran a hand over his closely buzzed dark hair. Tattoos peeked out from his blue suit jacket. He never wore a tie, and more often than not, weirdly matched Andrei, the Sinacore boss, as if they’d decided to use the same personal shopper when everyone knew they’d rather be shot than be seen shopping.

  The sandwich was dry in my throat as I swallowed, then croaked out. “N-no, I just got back, though. Um, Ash is probably sparring, though. Downstairs.”

  With shaking hands, I hid the sandwich behind my back like a thief out of total habit, hating that I was afraid for the other shoe to drop.

  Phoenix’s eyes softened as he slowly made his way past the door and toward the breakfast bar. “I used to hate color.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Why was he still here?

  “Eating color,” he clarified, jerking his head at the hidden sandwich. “Didn’t think I deserved anything that tasted good. I was bad, you know. The worst of all the bosses. Sometimes I still think about it, about how I punished myself because I didn’t deserve better, because I was so used to the darkness I forgot the light even existed.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. “I’m not punishing myself if that’s what you think.”

  “No,” he whispered. “I don’t think you’re punishing yourself. I do, however, think you’re afraid to hope, and sometimes I think that’s worse than self-punishment because at least one you can control, the other…” His words trailed off as his face took on an inscrutable expression.

  “I’m okay,” I found myself saying. “Chase and Luc are great.”

  “Of course they are.” His smile was sad. “I wasn’t talking about Chase and Luc, though…” He took another tentative step toward me. “It’s okay to sit, Annie. It’s okay to sit and to grab a plate. Nobody’s going to take it away from you.” He reached out and brushed the side of my face; a crumb came back on his fingertip then fell to the floor.

/>   Embarrassment washed over me as I looked away.

  “Ash’s favorite fruit snacks are on the bottom shelf hidden behind the maple syrup.” He pointed out. “Do me a favor and eat every last one. Little shit deserves it. And next time you make a fucking sandwich, I want it to be too big to eat. I want you to get so stuffed that you have to throw half of it away—and I want you to know you deserve every last bite.”

  “Why are you—” My voice caught. “It’s fine, I don’t mind—”

  “I do. Chase would. You’re under our protection now, Annie, no matter what... You’re in this, you get that, right? And we protect our own, even when we aren’t blood.”

  I nodded, not trusting my voice.

  “Bottom shelf.” He winked and then walked over to the cupboard, grabbed a plate, and handed it to me. “Take your time.”

  He had no way of knowing.

  It was the first time I’d eaten something after classes that wasn’t rushed, including eating at Eagle Elite.

  It was the first time I felt like it was okay to enjoy something, to sit and think about my day without wanting to cry tears of frustration, fear, and pain.

  I took the white plate, set my sandwich on it, then slowly went to the barstool, and pulled one out.

  “Better.” Phoenix nodded. “Let Chase know I stopped by if you see him. And Annie?”

  “Yes.” I paused with the sandwich halfway to my mouth.

  Phoenix’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Give him fucking hell. He deserves it.”

  “Who?” I played dumb.

  “Forget about the fruit snacks, and I’ll be very disappointed.”

  I found myself smiling. “I swear to steal every last one.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Sure you aren’t a De Lange?”

  “Positive,” I answered easily.

  Because I wasn’t.

  I was much, much, worse.

  According to my dad, the devil had sired me.

  I averted my eyes and took a bite as Phoenix gave me his back and left the kitchen.

  I finished my sandwich in silence, put my dish in the dishwasher, then walked past the pantry only to backtrack, open the door, and move the maple syrup.

  A smile spread across my face as I grabbed the box and dumped the remaining five fruit snack packages into my hands, leaving the empty box for him to find.

  Satisfaction coursed through me.

  It was a small thing.

  Petty really.

  But it would make Ash react.

  And for some reason, I felt alive again, like maybe the world wasn’t against me, maybe I could hope a little bit more.

  I went to my room to stash the fruit snacks and had every intention of doing homework when I heard Serena’s voice as she basically yelled to herself in passing my bedroom door.

  Silently, I followed her as she stomped down the hall and then took the door to the left, leading to the home gym in the basement.

  Curiosity piqued, I watched an entire drama unfold as Junior and Serena fought. My skin got hot as he threw her on her back.

  What did that feel like?

  To be so dominated?

  Protected?

  Memories of that night assaulted me.

  “Beg me.” Ash gripped my wrists so tight that pain started radiating down my arms, but I loved it, craved more as his body poised over mine, ready to take me. Primed.

  “Please, Ash, please!” My voice was a harsh whisper as he thrust into me, filling, owning, commanding.

  The world had never felt more perfect.

  “You’re mine.” His mouth moved down my neck.

  “Yours.”

  “Until the stars fall,” he vowed.

  A tear slid down my cheek colliding with the pillow. “Until the stars fall, Ash. Until they fall…”

  My head jerked up when suddenly Ash was stomping away from the ring, his face pale, mouth in a taut straight line like the world had pissed him off again.

  He didn’t even see me until he was right in front of me.

  He stopped.

  I lifted my head.

  “Innocent little Annie coming down here to spar?” he sneered.

  Innocent little Annie was seconds away from kneeing him in the junk. Instead, I pasted a bland smile on my face. “I don’t think I’d last five seconds.”

  He snorted out a laugh. “Make that one second.”

  “You should teach her.” Maksim suddenly appeared, earning a giant stay the hell away from us scowl from Ash. “What? She’s in this whether she likes it or not, and it’s your ass if she gets hurt.”

  “Why’s it my ass?”

  Maksim pointed up.

  Ash groaned. “Because God says so?”

  “Bro.” Maksim shook his head in disappointment. “No, because she’s under your roof, ergo under your protection. Simple math.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if you’re too smart to even do simple math,” Ash grumbled and took a look at me, then another, a closer one, like an idea was forming.

  I remembered Phoenix’s talk.

  And then I remembered the fruit snacks and stupidly gave Ash a knowing smile.

  His eyes dropped to my mouth.

  Maksim cleared his throat. “Soooooo, what do you say, Ash?”

  “Huh?” He shook his head.

  “Sparring.” Maksim did a few jabs with his hands. “Making sure she knows how to fend off predators…” He grinned at Ash. “You being the predator in this scenario.”

  “Got that, thanks,” he barked.

  “It’s okay…” I offered lamely. “It looks like Ash already got his ass beat today…”

  I had no clue where that came from.

  Maybe the blood on the corner of his mouth.

  Or the fire in his eyes.

  “The hell did you just say?” Ash moved so fast I nearly fell back on my own ass; we were chest to chest.

  “Just that…” I licked my lips. “…you’re probably tired after losing all those rounds.”

  “What the fuck makes you think I lost, little girl?”

  “Blood.” My voice shook. “Doesn’t that mean you lost if he gets that many hits in, plus your right eye’s already bruising, and is that a cut on your—’

  “That’s it.” He grabbed my wrist and spun me around until I was nearly jogging with him back to the ring.

  King’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he shared a look with Maksim, who was already jumping from foot to foot in anticipation.

  Great, so they wanted me dead?

  Then again, I did have a secret.

  I smiled to myself.

  “What? That excited to get the shit beat out of you?” Ash sneered.

  “Your dad would murder you,” I pointed out.

  He shrugged and held open the ring for me to step in. “Shoes off.”

  I kicked off my boots; I was still in my skirt and blouse. I shrugged out of my jacket and stood in the middle of the mat while Ash started to circle me.

  We had everyone’s attention.

  The gym was completely silent except for Ash’s footsteps as he circled me like a caged animal.

  “Annie.” King jumped in the ring and moved behind me. “Get your guard up, like this.” He held up my hands in front of my face while Ash glared. “Good, good, now dominant foot first, you’re going to want to jab and block, jab, block.”

  He tried showing me while Ash waited with the patience of a frayed shoestring.

  “Let her learn her lesson, King,” Ash grated out.

  “Don’t kill her, man,” King said under his breath as he got out of the ring and joined Maksim, Tank, and the other recruits.

  I didn’t look in Tank’s direction.

  I could already feel his disapproval, which just made me want to stay in that ring all the more.

  I kept my hands up to block my face and nearly fell on my ass when Ash threw a right hook. I blocked it, but my palms stung from the effort.

  Was he seriously going to fight me?
/>
  Satan himself?

  Everything I learned in Italy came back full force as he swiped my feet and sent me directly onto my back, my skirt hiked up past my thighs showing off my black underwear and way too much skin for my liking.

  Thankfully, it was the distraction I needed as Ash’s eyes flickered to my thighs. I kicked out, hooking both of his feet and sending him sailing onto his back, then I used my momentum to flip over and get an armbar.

  Teeth clenched, I pulled back until I heard something pop.

  Ash tapped against my arm.

  “Did she just…” King burst out laughing. “Holy shit! Did she just submit you?”

  “Element of surprise,” I said, releasing Ash.

  He didn’t move.

  “Leave,” he said in a lethal tone.

  I started to move, but with one hand, he flipped his weight and pinned me to the mat. “Not you.”

  “Ash, she was just defending—”

  “Maksim, if you want to live to see your next birthday… I’d go. Close the door.”

  When I glanced to my left, Tank had both hands clenched into fists; it took both Maksim and King shoving him toward the door to get him to leave with the recruits shuffling after him.

  And then, with finality, it shut with a resounding boom resonating through the basement.

  “Talk.” Ash gritted his teeth, keeping most of his weight against my pelvis so I couldn’t move, could barely breathe.

  “Italy.” I squeezed out some air. “I learned some self-defense.”

  “Who taught you?”

  Oh no.

  “One of your cousins…” I licked my lips. “Enzo or something…”

  “FUCKING ENZO TOUCHED YOU?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut so I couldn’t see the rage on his face as I nodded my head. “He said I was…”

  “He. Said. What.”

  “He said…” I chewed my lower lip. “…that I was too pretty not to know how to defend myself against jackasses.” I slowly turned and locked eyes with him and added. “Guess it worked.”

  “Touché.” He ground out. “But he lied…”

  I was on a cliff.

  Ready to get pushed.

  I braced for it.

  For the words.

  You’re not pretty.

  I welcomed them because it was an easier blow to take. No surprises that way, just truths.