The Elite Kings Boxset Vol. II

by Amo Jones

  I cooed to my baby, moving up onto my elbows as one of our maids came rushing in, holding a warm bucket of water and rags. I rocked my baby, looking up to my husband with newfound hate, and then looked back down to my son, the Circle of Infinity now embossed into his innocent fresh skin.

  The decision was made, and a new world order was about to begin.

  Goose bumps break out over me.

  “Madison? It’s time for class, hon.”

  “Oh, okay.” I shut the book and clutch it under my arm.

  “I’m Miss Winters, just so you know next time you come in.” She leans on one of the bookshelves.

  “Will most likely be handy to know,” I say, walking toward where I picked up the book.

  She watches me carefully. Her mouth opens and then closes, as if she wants to say something. I pick up my books from the small table and smile at her. “Thanks for letting me slip in here real quick.”

  “No problem.” She smiles weakly. I turn to walk out the door, when a word stops me. “Ten.”

  I turn around to face her. “Pardon?”

  She clears her throat. “We close at 10:00 p.m. on Fridays. I mean, just the library and the gym. You have to access from the side door with your student ID card, but we’re open until then.”

  She walks to where the titleless book is pushed in, her finger brushing over the spine. “Do you know why this book has no title?” she asks me softly, looking back to me.

  I shake my head slowly. “No. I’m only up to chapter two.”

  She smiles. “Those aren’t chapters, and this isn’t a book.”

  Huh? Without wanting to sound like an idiot, I don’t say anything at all, hoping she’ll elaborate. She does.

  “It’s all myth and legend, old folklore.” She smiles at me. “But this wasn’t written to be a book. The women who wrote it....” She opens the first page, running her fingers over the fine cursive writing. Every stroke of the crow quill done with perfect precision. “She wasn’t writing a book.”

  “What was she writing, then?” I clear my throat.

  “Her suicide note.”

  THE REST OF THE DAY goes painfully slow. After that talk with Miss Winters, I left. I’m going to go back in there on Friday though. I want to read as much of that book as possible, even if it is a very long one. Or a suicide note, as Miss Winters said. That thought gives me the heebie-jeebies.

  Suicide note? If it was her suicide note, then what is with her comments about her husband’s hand wrapped around her throat? Maybe they just liked kinky sex. But even as my dry sense of humor tries to make light of an obviously very dark subject and situation, my heart sinks. I felt everything that the woman had written. I was there with her through the birth of her son, as if I was watching a live show. With thoughts of the book, which I’ve decided to name The Book, since it doesn’t have a title, the final bell rings and school is over for the day.

  Walking out my classroom, I’m making my way down the rowdy corridor, when Nate hooks his arm around me. “Hey, you.”

  “Hi.” I smile up at him. I had forgotten all about Bishop and Ally, and now I’m reminded why I love books so much—the escape. “How was your day?”

  He shrugs. “It’s school. What do you expect?”

  “Truth!” I say, letting him lead me down to the underground parking lot. “Ready to face your mom and my daddy dearest?”

  He grins, slipping his aviators over his eyes. “Nope.”

  I stop. “Crap! I forgot. Tatum is coming with us.”

  Nate shrugs. “Text her and tell her to hurry up.”

  “Is this going to be weird?” I ask him with skeptical eyes.

  “What, ’cause I fucked her?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “No.” He watches me and then exhales, walking up and lacing his hands with mine. “I promise it’s not weird. I’m used to clingy. I know how to handle girls like Tatum.”

  I scoff, reaching into my pocket to get my phone out. “Oh,” I grunt, punching in a quick text to her. “I’m not worried about Tatum, trust me.” His smile drops. I roll my eyes. How can he be offended by that? But then it’s Nate. Under the tough, bad-boy exterior, he has a very large ego. Shocker. He cares about himself, so me insinuating that Tatum isn’t interested hurt his little feelings. Hitting Send on her text, I clarify, “What I mean is that she’s not clinging. She used you like you did her.”

  Tatum texts back almost instantly, saying she’ll meet me at my place.

  Nate laughs freely, brushing me off. “See? Perfect. Maybe I should hit it again if she understands the deal.”

  I nudge my head. “First of all, no. Leave her alone. Second of all, she’ll meet us at home.”

  “Do I need to have the talk with you about my friends?” He looks at me under his arm as we start walking toward the elevator that leads to his vehicle.

  I scoff. “No, definitely not.”

  Because it’s too late.

  YOU KNOW THAT PART IN movies where you see the two toddlers who got caught drawing on the walls, or cutting up their mother’s new Egyptian cotton sheets, sitting on the sofa, attempting to look innocent as their parents sit opposite them, disappointed and deciding what they’re going to do as punishment?

  Yeah, Nate and I are the toddlers right now.

  “Madi?” my father asks, looking down at Nate’s arm that is snaked around my waist casually as we sit on the L-shaped couch. I shuffle anxiously, not liking the way my dad’s obviously uncomfortable with Nate’s arm around me.

  “Hmm? Yes?” I decide to aim for innocence. Innocence always works with my dad. He actually thinks I’m naïve and probably thinks I’m still a virgin. Technically speaking, that wouldn’t be a hard thing to admit when you’re seventeen, but not all girls have my life or had my life.

  Elena exhales, standing from the leather couch. “It’s fine. They’re kids. It’s what they do.” She pauses. “At least they get along enough to throw a party.”

  I honestly didn’t think my dad would mind, not that I’ve ever thrown a party before, but he’s an absent-ish parent. I’m almost certain his punishment card is void. He punched that ticket when he left me the week of my fifth birthday.

  Dad gets up from the couch, his eyebrows drawn in and the wrinkles around his eyes deep. He looks to Nate. “No more.” Then he disappears down the hallway with Elena on his trail.

  “Whoa!” Nate laughs, leaning back on the couch and tilting his cap lower to hide his eyes.

  “Whoa?” I whisper-hiss. “Are you kidding me?” I elbow him and get off the couch. “This is your fault.”

  He chuckles, the unfazed asshole that Nate is. “I’ll take that.”

  “Nate!” I pinch his arm.

  “Ouch!” He whacks his hat up higher until his eyes zero in on me. “What?”

  “You were supposed to take care of the garbage bins!”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “I specifically remember doing them. Me and Tatum went around....” He trails off, his eyes gazing off into the distance.

  “Hmm? You and Tatum went around where?” I tap my foot in frustration.

  Nate laughs. “Okay, I’m sorry!” He gets up off the sofa, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me into his body.

  I fight against his hard chest for a second before giving up with a huff, melting into his arms. “Don’t do that again. We had a plan, and if we want any freedom around here, we need to stick to the plan.”

  “Yeah.” His voice vibrates against my cheek, his sweet cologne hitting my nostrils. “But we don’t need to throw parties here anyway. We have Brantley’s house.”

  “Brantley doesn’t like me very much, and it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t be attending parties.”

  “Brantley doesn’t not like you.”

  “Oh, really?” I step away from his embrace, just enough to be able to see his face but still be in his arms. “The man’s lip is curled at me constantly. I think he hates me more than Bishop does.”

  Nate’s arm ti
ghtens around me. “Bishop doesn’t hate you.”

  “I’m pretty sure he does. In fact, I don’t think any of your pack are entirely happy about my existence.”

  “They just don’t know you.”

  “You all kidnapped me. They’d be fucking lucky to know me, which, by the way, why am I hugging you? I’m still pissed about that.” I push out of his embrace, only for him to tighten his grip. He hooks his finger under my chin and tilts my head up so I’m facing him. His eyes search mine, his lips so close that if I inched forward, we’d be kissing.

  “You don’t get a say in what happened that night.” He’s serious, and that makes me nervous. I’ve never seen Nate like this often. “I’m serious, Madi. We didn’t and don’t have much choice, except for probably Bishop.”

  “Why do you like me?” I ask. He narrows his eyes. “I mean,” I whisper, my eyes dropping to his mouth, “you didn’t have to like me. We’re stepsiblings. We should hate each other.”

  He inches forward, his arm clenching around my waist, pulling me in closer so I can feel his hard erection pressing into my tummy. He drops his lips softly, so they’re brushing over mine. “It was either I warm up to you...” He grins against my lips, but I don’t move. I should move; if I was smart, I’d move. But I’ve not been very smart lately. “Or I fuck you.” He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth.

  Just as he’s about to pull away, I grip onto the back of his neck and pull him into me until I’m kissing him. I open my mouth and let his tongue slide in. Nate has his tongue pierced? The ball of his piercing glides over my tongue expertly, and holy hell, he’s a great kisser. He pushes my body down onto the sofa with his until my back hits the soft cushions. I inch my legs open until his knee is resting in between mine, not breaking the kiss. He tilts his head, giving me more access, and I lick his tongue, pulling it into my mouth while sucking on it.

  “Madi, we’re going out for dinner tonight!” My father’s distant yell is like a bucket of ice-cold water. Nate and I both pull back, my hand coming up to my mouth and his eyes wide on mine, both of us in shock. I push him off me, and we both land on our feet just as my dad walks into the living room, doing up his cufflinks. “You’ll both come.”

  “Sorry,” Nate deadpans. “I have plans tonight.” Then he looks to me. “And weren’t you saying that Tatum is coming over?”

  I look between Nate and my dad nervously. “Yeah, but I can cancel.”

  Nate looks at me with widened eyes. I widen mine back, because he’s being rude. I know my dad is blunt, but that’s how he has always been, and he may not be a great father, but he’s always tried. “Good. It’s settled. I’ll meet you both out in the car in half an hour.”

  Half an hour later, Nate and I are both in the back of my dad’s Range Rover, both scowling at each other, and neither has spoken since “the mistake.” I would call it the kiss, but mistake sounds more fitting. Nate is dressed in casual dark jeans, a polo shirt, and black boots. I’m casual like him too, but not quite able to get away with jeans. I decided on a pant jumpsuit. It’s black and plain, but has two slight slits on either side of my ribcage, showing a whisper of skin. It’s one of the many clothes I have in my closet that I don’t particularly like wearing, but because of status, I have to own it in case, I don’t know... my dad decides to spring it on me that he’s taking us out to The Plaines, the most elite restaurant there is on this side of town. I only know this, because when I texted Tatum to tell her I couldn’t do tonight and that she and Tillie were on their own, she told me so. Right after cursing me out.

  “So, Madison, how has school been?” Elena asks from the passenger seat.

  “It’s been good.”

  “Madi has settled right in.” Nate smirks from his seat. “Haven’t you, sis?”

  The fact the same lips I was just kissing called me sis makes me gag. The hell was I thinking? My father looks at me in the rearview mirror.

  “Yeah, I’ve found one or two great friends.”

  My phone vibrates in my pocket as Elena shoots her questions at Nate. I slide my phone unlocked.

  Bishop – we need to talk.

  Is he serious?

  Me – We really don’t.

  Bishop – I’m not Nate, Madison. I don’t just stick my dick in every girl I see. We. Need. To. Talk.

  Me – The way Ally paws at you, you could have fooled me.

  Bishop – Jealous?

  Me – No. And no, I don’t want to or need to talk. Just forget it happened. I’m pretty much with Carter now.

  Lies. Why the fuck did I just say that? It’s the year 2017. We have drones, cars that can go in water, and men who walk on the moon. Why the hell haven’t they figured out how to unsend a text message? I don’t know who “they” are, but I’m blaming it on Apple.

  Bishop – Careful, kitty...

  I roll my eyes and push my phone back into my pocket. Nate’s leg nudges mine, and I look up at him, the passing streetlights illuminating his sharp features. “What?” I ask.

  “Who was that?”

  “No one.”

  I look out the window, ignoring his gaze. How is it that, in a matter of weeks, I’ve woven this messy web? Suddenly, I’m wanting to be that new girl again, the one who was walking the halls for the first time ever.

  “Dad?” I prompt, pressing my forehead against my cool window.

  “Yeah?”

  I exhale. “Can you fit in a round tomorrow before you leave?”

  There’s a long pause, and I close my eyes. If he says no, I might break. After everything that’s happening around me, I want my dad with me, shooting like we used to. I need it to bring me back down from whatever cloud I’ve drifted off on.

  “Sure, baby girl.” I exhale at his answer, my shoulders slacking and my stress already lifting somewhat.

  Once we’ve pulled into the restaurant parking lot, I get out my side of the SUV and Elena looks at me. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you and Nate get along.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly say get along.”

  “He cares about you,” she assures, closing her door. “That counts for something, because Nate cares about very little. Apart from his friends.”

  I close my door and nod. “I guess we get along a little bit.”

  Elena smiles and hooks her arm into mine. “So tell me. You like guns?”

  After a surprisingly normal dinner, we came home, and Nate left almost instantly. We hardly spoke through dinner, as though the mistake was already forgotten. Works for me, because it won’t be happening again. There’s a light knock on my door just as I’m about to get into my pajamas and start on my English paper.

  “Come in!” I yell out, rummaging through my closet. It’s still a mess from the party, and in other cases, I would be the first to clean it, but I’ve found myself more relaxed lately, sedated almost.

  “Hey, sugar!” Tatum walks in, with Tillie following closely behind her.

  “Hey!” I smile at both of them. “What are you two doing?”

  “We thought we’d come see you, since you pulled a sicky on us and bailed.” Tatum takes a seat on my bed, and Tillie slips onto the chair beside my white study desk.

  “Yeah,” I mutter, finding my tank top and pulling it on. “Sorry about that.”

  This is awkward; even though the mistake meant nothing to me, I don’t know if it would mean anything to Tatum. She says that Nate was just a “nothing” to her, but don’t we all say that?

  “I brought my favorite friend.” Tatum whips out a blue book-style box with gold trimming.

  “No way!” I gush, walking toward her. “Debauve & Gallais’s Le Livre?” I blurt out excitedly.

  “Geez,” Tatum mutters. “Your French is more immaculate than mine, and I lived there for a year.”

  I wave her off. “I’ve studied the language, and the culture, and in this case... the chocolates!” I open the gold-embossed leather box and inhale the sweet, rich smell of ganaches and pralines. “Mmm.” I take one out. “I haven�
��t had these in years.”

  Tatum looks toward Tillie and rolls her eyes. “Don’t let this pig eat them all. Come taste.”

  Tillie swallows nervously and then steps toward us. I fight the urge to snatch the box and run away like a cavewoman.

  “What’s so great about it? It’s just chocolate, right?” Tillie asks, picking up one of the pralines. I pause my chewing, narrowing my eyes. Insult chocolate, you should not. Especially Sulpice Debauve’s fine work.

  “Aside from the fact that you have to be on a waitlist to order a box and it’s five-hundred or so dollars? Not much.” Tatum shrugs.

  Tillie blushes. “You guys are way too rich. I feel like the lost girl.”

  “You’re not a lost girl. You’re perfectly within your element with us.”

  Tillie smiles softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I guess.”

  I lick the chocolate off the top of my mouth, looking at how Tillie has gone quiet. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  She looks at me. “Yeah!” She smiles fakely. “Everything is fine. What are we doing this weekend?”

  Tatum kicks off her shoes, and Tillie removes hers, shuffling beside Tatum. “I don’t know. We’ve all, you included”—Tatum looks at Tillie—“have been invited to a campout with Madi’s new man for Halloween.”

  “He’s not my man,” I say to Tillie.

  “He’s totally her man,” Tatum retorts casually.

  I shake my head and mouth “He’s not” to Tillie.

  “Anyway,” Tatum interjects loudly. “I think we should do it.”

  “I don’t know,” I mutter, standing from my bed. I wanted to go camping for so long, but now that I know Carter has other feelings toward me, I’m a little scared he might get the wrong idea about my saying yes.

  “What’s there to not know about?” Tatum asks, wriggling up to my headboard and slipping under my covers. Her ash blonde hair is up in a perfect bow bun on the top of her head, and her face is fresh from makeup. She definitely has that deflowered glow about her. Fucking Nate.

  “Lots!” I say, waving my hands in the air. Tillie scoots up beside Tatum and slips under with her, following the chocolates.