The Elite Kings Boxset Vol. II

by Amo Jones

  “How can you say that? He’s your son!”

  He opens his mouth and then closes it again. Looking over my shoulder to Bishop, he then looks back to me. “What do you want me to do?”

  I smile. “Thank you. Get him the best lawyer. He will need it.”

  “I don’t think this is—” Nate starts, but I cut him off.

  “Shut up, Nate!” I look at Bishop. “Are you going to fight me on this too?”

  He looks at me and then looks at my dad. “No. I got you, babe.”

  Those words. So simple, but meaning so much to me. My shoulders drop, and my heart slows for the first time since I’ve been here. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll call around. I know one in New York. He’s the best defense attorney in the state.”

  “Okay.” I smile at my dad. “Thank you for doing this.”

  “For the record”—he looks at me, his eyebrows pulling in—“I’m not happy about it. There’s a lot you have to learn. But I will respect your wishes enough to grant this for you. But if I find out that Daemon and his….” Dad pauses, then looks back at Bishop. “Never mind. Just—I’m doing this for you. No one else.”

  I nod. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “We better go. When can she come home?” he asks Bishop, and I don’t miss the fact that Bishop takes charge of every situation. Even with my dad, who is decades older than him, it’s still Bishop who runs shit. It’s just Bishop. You don’t get more… alpha? I don’t know whether that’s the right word to use, but he just commands everything. Like he’s the alpha of a wolf pack, but the wolf pack is the human race in general. His tattoo is right; he pretty much is a god, and he doesn’t even try. I don’t know whether I want to kiss him or smack him. His ego doesn’t need more feeding, so I’ll go with a smack, and then kiss. Or a combination of both.

  “She can leave today. She’s been here for seven days because her heart skipped a couple beats after the incident. They said it was because of the trauma, her drifting in and out of consciousness was her body’s way of dealing with it. The police want to ask her routine questions, too, and they have to because it’s protocol. I’ll be there the entire time, so no need to worry about that.”

  My dad straightens his tie that looks like it hasn’t been knotted for at least a couple of days. “Thank you. I’ll start on this phone call for Daemon, see if we can get the ball rolling faster.”

  Backpeddling, I just remember Bishop saying seven days, so when my dad and Elena leave, I turn to face him. “Seven days? I’ve been out for seven days?”

  Bishop nods, walking toward Tatum and snatching the bag of donuts out of her hands before tossing them into the bin. “Yeah, but your injury is straight forward. You were grazed by the bullet, not actually shot.” I guess that explains how I’m still alive and my throbbing headache.

  Tatum snarls at him, leaning back in her chair. “Okay, so anyway.” She looks to Bishop with her eyes large before smiling back to me. “Do you remember anything from that day, Mads?”

  They all stop, Bishop and Nate both focusing in on me. I bite down on my lip, thinking over that afternoon. I remember it all. But do I tell them that? Or should I give them parts? I trust them, I do, but like Bishop and Nate have both said in the past, knowledge is power and secrets are weapons. Especially in this fucked up world.

  I shrug her question off, picking at the old hospital blanket on my bed. “I mean, I remember some, not all. There’s like, blank spots.” I instantly feel awful for lying, but when I look at both her and Nate, I see they buy it. Until my eyes connect with Bishop, and instead of buying my lies, he sees straight through them. The slant in his evil glare gives that away.

  Fuck.

  Fuck Bishop and his ability to read people. Is there anything this fucker isn’t good at? Because I’ve got nothing. I think I need to find what it is Bishop sucks at so I can attack it. Just for shits and giggles, and also because I know it’ll drive him crazy. And I sort of like him when he’s mad. That’s a dangerous thing.

  “Okay, well that’s okay, right, Nate?” Tate looks to Nate, but he brushes her off, not giving her a second glance. She looks to the floor briefly, gathering her wits again after being shot down so easily. I see it. Right there, I see she’s caught feelings for him.

  “Agh,” I moan lightly, annoyed at everything and everyone. “I just want to go home, to my bed, to my shower, to eat food, and watch Netflix in bed all night.” I was meant to say that in my head, but I then realize I said it out loud.

  Bishop chuckles. “Done. I’ll go hurry the nurse. You will need to eat something solid before they let you leave though.”

  “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure Bishop runs the shots in this hospital too, so he will probably get you discharged anyway, what with all the pull he has. Must be nice being a king,” Tatum adds sassily, one eyebrow raised to the high heavens. Ah, I see. That’s why she’s being extra salty toward Bishop; she knows, or has picked up on, or is just being Tatum—about something. Bishop is still glaring at her with his lip curled when he walks out the door. Silence doesn’t last long once he’s gone, because Tatum is instantly at my side.

  “I saw Bishop with that nurse lady!” she whispers into my ear. Well, it was supposed to be a whisper, only Nate heard her from the other side of the room as he gathers up all his belongings.

  “I heard that, and Tate? Leave it the fuck alone.” Nate doesn’t look at her or acknowledge her presence—at all. This would bother Tate, because as much as she keeps to herself at school, and as much as she’s a loner, she’s a loner by choice. Tatum is beautiful—drop-dead stunning. What with her lush blonde hair and rosy cheeks. She looks like a Victoria’s Secret model. It’s her attitude that needs fixing. But who am I to judge? That’s probably why we get along so well.

  “Why?” she snaps back at Nate.

  He exhales, folding up the blanket and tossing it onto the chair. “Let’s start with, it’s none of your fucking business, and finish with, you’ll just end up pissing off both our best friends.” Nate stops, raising his eyebrows at her in challenge.

  She squares up. “How about… your best friend is a piece of shit, because while my best friend, AKA his….” She looks to me, and then looks to Nate, and then looks back to me again. “What are you two anyway?” she whispers.

  I shrug. “Not something, but not nothing either.”

  Tatum’s face drops. She’s not impressed. “Madi, no, that’s not a good place to be with a guy, because they have no rules and no boundaries. Men are simple creatures. They need lines. Simple lines.”

  “Well it works for us right now,” I answer, pushing myself up off my bed. When she doesn’t reply, I look at her. “Honestly, it really works for us right now. Whatever we have, it needs to be built slowly. We’re too explosive. We wouldn’t just blow each other up if this goes wrong; we’d take you all down with us.”

  Tatum mulls over what I’ve said and then walks back toward Nate. She spins around. “Okay, fine!”

  “But…,” I add.

  Nate tosses the pillow on the other side of the room. “I knew it. I fucking knew this was coming.”

  “Fuck you,” I snicker at him before looking back to Tatum. “What was it you saw?”

  She searches my eyes then looks to Nate, and I brace myself. Brace myself for what everyone does when Nate, Bishop, or Brantley are in the room. It would probably happen if any of the other Kings were in the room too, but I just haven’t been in the position. Tatum tilts her back as laughter erupts from her. Sarcastic laughter, but still laughter. She clutches her stomach, bringing her glare right back to Nate. “Naaw, Natey, I don’t owe you or your pack of wolves shit. My loyalty is to Madison.” She pauses and looks to me. “If I go missing, check their houses first.” Then she slices to Nate. “She is my best friend, so fuck you and fuck Bishop.”

  “Fuck me?” Nate grins, and I fight the urge to massage my temples. “Well, you sure did, baby girl. Last night, in fact.”

  “Oh, gross, with me in
the same room? Really?” I look at Tatum, because I expect more from her, though I really shouldn’t.

  She giggles. “My bad.”

  Rolling my eyes, I tilt my head up to the ceiling. “You were saying, Tate?” Bracing myself for the worst, while having an internal argument that whatever Bishop does is none of my business, Tatum opens her mouth.

  “He had her up against the wall. He was… he….”

  I don’t need her to finish. I already know what she’s going to say, and though I hate it, my heart sinks a little, and it’s like sand has been siphoned down my airways every time I swallow. “He fucked her,” I whisper through a clenched throat, swiping at the stray tear that has fallen down my cheek. Why do I care? I have no right to care. We’re not together; we’ve never been official. This is probably why he didn’t want us to go official, because he wanted to be a slut, and sluts don’t like relationships.

  But he’s also told me things, things you shouldn’t tell people unless you want them to grow feelings for you. My blood starts to boil a little before I start imagining what they were doing while I was in the hospital bed, what they—

  “Madison!” Tatum snaps at me, clicking her fingers. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, girl! You really know how to zone out and get lost in that brain of yours.” She has no idea. “As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me”—she looks at me pointedly—“he had her up against the wall… by her throat.”

  I pause, blinking and catching what she’s saying. So what? Bishop chokes me out during sex to the point of blacking out. What’s her point?

  She laughs, shaking her head. “No, you stupid cow. As in he was about to kill her.”

  Nate stills. “For the record, this is why we don’t tell you anything. Remember this moment when you’re throwing a tantrum about how you don’t know anything.” He tugs on his hoodie, zipping it up. Walking toward me, he presses a kiss to my head, hooking his finger under my chin to tilt my face up to his. “I’ll go get the house ready for you, okay?”

  I nod. “Thanks, Nate.”

  “Anytime.” He smiles at me softly before glaring at Tatum. “Shut your mouth, Tate. Watch what you say if you like breathing.”

  She rolls her eyes and sits on the bed. Once Nate is out of the room, I look toward Tatum. I can see she’s a little upset about the way Nate has been acting all morning. “For the record,” I note, “I totally said you and Nate sleeping together would be a bad idea.”

  She opens her mouth, ready to defend herself, when she exhales in defeat. “Girl, you have no idea.”

  Actually, I do.

  The door opens again, and Bishop walks in with the nurse from earlier scurrying not far behind him. “Usually the doctor would need to discharge you, but he’s left it to me. You will need to eat something and sign paperwork at reception on your way out.” She smiles, but it’s strained, not reaching her eyes. She’s just about to say something when another nurse walks in, pushing a cart full of food.

  “Thanks,” I murmur. I hate hospital food, but I can stomach a sandwich. Especially if it gets me out of here.

  I take a bite, finishing it in record time before looking back to the nurse. “Thank you.” I nod then gaze to Bishop, who’s staring at me with his jaw clenched. Great. What the hell have I done now?

  “Where’d Nate go?” Bishop finally breaks the awkward silence as the nurse starts removing my IV drips.

  I wince slightly. “Home to get my room ready or something.”

  Bishop smiles and then looks to Tatum. “You didn’t want to go with him?”

  Tatum narrows her eyes on him. “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Because you’re you.”

  The drive home was painful. Between Bishop and Tatum both making a fuss over everything, I was almost ready to jump out of a moving vehicle on the freeway and walk home. And if I did, I would have survived, because for the first time ever, Bishop was going 10 mph, not wanting to go over potholes and bumps in the road.

  Walking up the stairs, I push open my bedroom door, annoyed at both of them and wanting some space, but when I walk in, I gasp. “What the…?”

  Nate sits on a mattress at the foot of my bed and has spread out the entire surface with cheesecakes, gummy bears, and my favorite chocolate, Debauve & Gallais’s Le Livre.

  There are sushi rolls lined in a circle platter with soy dipping sauce in the middle. Next to it is a round of tacos, and all the dipping sauces for fries and potato skins.

  “Nate!” I smile. If I wasn’t so sore, I’d jump his bones.

  “Hey, Kitty.” He grins, and because he’s Nate, he looks all seductive. Or maybe I’m turned on by the food. “You hungry?” He wiggles his eyebrows and flexes his pecs.

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, my God.”

  “Wow, Riverside, you sure know how to put on a show,” Tatum mutters, walking into the room and grabbing her bag. She looks at me. “I’m going to go home, sleep for a hundred days in my own bed, and not talk to anyone for at least a month. She smiles, walking up to me and pulling me in for a hug. “I’ll text you, okay?”

  Nodding, I smile. “You better.” Then she turns and exits, leaving me to deal with both Nate and Bishop.

  “Actually,” Nate smiles, getting off the mattress and dusting off his pants, “I didn’t do any of this. Bishop did.” He leans down, stealing a taco and shoving it into his mouth.

  “So you just took it? No correcting me or Tatum?” I arch my eyebrow.

  He shakes his head, swallowing his food. “She’s fun to play with. That’s all.”

  I unzip my hoodie and toss it onto my bed. “Don’t hurt her, Nate.”

  “Hey!” He throws his empty hands up. “She knows where I stand. It’s not my fault if she catches feelings. She’s good in bed. That’s all I want.”

  “What? And fuck around on her in the meantime?” I ask, reaching up and touching the gauze that’s wrapped around my head.

  He watches me and then cusses under his breath. “None of that matters. We aren’t a thing. There’s only one—or maybe two girls who had the power to change that, and one of them was you. Anyway, you feeling okay? You need anything?” He looks to Bishop, who is sprawled out on my bed, shirtless with gray sweatpants on and the rim of his Calvin Klein briefs poking out the top.

  I’m screwed.

  “I’m sure B will take care of you, right?”

  Bishop reaches forward on my bed and grabs the remote, flicking the TV on. “Go to bed, Nate.”

  Nate winks at both of us before walking back through to his room. Bishop must push Play on a movie because it cuts through our silence. But it’s not an awkward silence or the kind of silence you feel when you’re in a room with someone you’re uncomfortable with.

  “I’m just going to take a shower,” I say to him, walking to my closet to get a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.

  He nods, watching as I pass him. Once I’ve gathered everything I need, I flick the light off and start walking back toward the bathroom, only Bishop catches my hand as I pass him, his fingers caressing my palm.

  I turn to look at him over my shoulder. “You okay?” He’s not usually touchy-feely, so this is new territory we’re both walking through, but it feels right. He makes my heart race and my blood rush, but it feels right.

  Tilting his head, he looks into my eyes then runs his thumb over my knuckles. “Yeah, yeah, I am now. Want me to run you a bath? You don’t want to get that wet.” He points up to my head, and I touch it, remembering the bandage and remembering I got shot—or grazed.

  But still, I got shot.

  Oh my God.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, obviously noticing my facial expressions. Tilting his head to the other side, his fingers stay laced with mine.

  I grin a little. “I’m a bit of a badass. I’ve been shot!”

  He chuckles, letting go of my hand and slapping my ass. “Get in the shower.”

  I bite down on my lip and quickly rush into the bathroom.

  “
And lock that fucking door!” Bishop yells, his voice vibrating through the thin walls.

  I laugh, shaking my head and unbuttoning my jeans before slipping them off. Scrubbing myself in the shower, I want to stay in for longer than I do but I also really want to be near Bishop right now, so I flick off the faucet and grab the towel, wrapping it around myself. Drying my body, I already feel much better than I did five minutes ago. Slipping on my boy-shorts and my loose gray sweatpants, I toss on my tight black tank and put my towel in the hamper before pulling open my bedroom door. Leaning on the doorframe, I smile at Bishop, who’s biting into one of the sushi rolls.

  “Good?”

  “Not bad, but I guess it will taste even better to you because you haven’t eaten in so long.” I push off the wall and make my way toward him, taking a seat beside him on the mattress. Grabbing a taco, I dip it into the guacamole and bite into the crispy shell.

  “Mmmmm,” I groan, unable to help the pleasure that takes over my body as my taste buds get their first taste of the taco.

  Bishop pauses, sushi roll midway to his mouth. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?” I ask innocently, licking the sauce off my fingers.

  He drops the sushi roll back onto the platter. “Madison….”

  I roll my eyes. “I won’t do that, but! Only because I’m starving and I actually feel like I’m about to eat every single thing on this platter.”

  “Good.” He grins, picking up the sushi roll and popping it back into his mouth.

  I chow down my taco, not making a single sound. Reaching for my water bottle, I twist it open, swallowing the cool liquid.

  “So tell me, how’d you know all of this was my favorite food?” I ask Bishop, stretching out on the mattress because my stomach feels like it’s about to explode. Looking up at the ceiling, I eventually look toward him when he doesn’t say anything.

  “I know all there is to know about you, Madison.” He moves the platter to the other side of the mattress and slides beside me. “Ask me anything.”