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“What you saw,” he said, pointing toward the door, “was me trying not to kill a woman.”
I stilled. What had he just said?
“She is the reason they found you here. She’d told them. She was the rat.”
My mouth went slack. Was he serious?
“Why?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He shook his head. “Because she’s a fucking bitch. She’ll pay for it. I swear to you, she will.”
I stood up. “What do you mean? You’ll call the police? If you call them, they’ll take me. Won’t they? I’ll be a suspect in Hill’s murder. They will no longer think I’m dead.”
I began to tremble. This was all unraveling. I’d put them in the middle of it all. Just like I had feared. What if they were arrested too? Because of me.
King was in front of me instantly. His hands on my arms gripping me tightly. “No cops. No one will know you’re here and alive. I swore to you I’d keep you safe, and I will.”
“How? You can’t promise that!” I felt myself growing hysterical. There was no answer to this that ended well. I couldn’t think of a way to fix it. I was tired of thinking about it.
“We take care of our own. No cops. She will be dealt with here. You will remain safe. I have to leave you and go make some decisions, but I’ll be back. Maeme will bring you some breakfast. Just stay in here. This room. Don’t leave. Don’t go downstairs. Not until I return. Promise me.”
I stared up at him. His blue eyes were back, and the pleading in them for me to do as he asked trumped everything else I was thinking. Even if staying here wasn’t what I should do, it was what I would do. For him.
“Okay,” I replied.
He let out a relieved sigh and pressed a kiss to my lips. It was hard and demanding, but ended much too quickly.
“I’ll be back,” he whispered before leaving one more brief touch on my mouth.
Then, he turned and left me standing there. Staring after him. Afraid of the future, but knowing I had someone. Even if that someone wasn’t telling me everything.
• thirty-eight •
“I had to calm the fuck down.”
King
I recognized his voice before I reached the underground cellar, where Blaise Hughes stood with Stellan, my father, and Thatcher. The prisoner was hanging from the ceiling with his wrists bound in a metal latch. He wasn’t near death, but he was pale, and there was some blood from where Thatcher had lost his temper while getting him to talk.
Blaise cut his eyes from Stellan to me. Although I was bigger than the boss of the family, he still wielded power that intimidated men much larger than me. Like his main enforcer, for example, Huck Kingston. Huck was the son of Barrett’s second cousin, Creed Kingston, who had died, along with Huck’s mom years ago. The man was huge. Even by my standards.
“You get her calmed down?” Thatcher asked, sounding amused.
I ignored him. I wasn’t going to take his bait in front of Blaise. When I said nothing, Blaise narrowed his eyes.
“Well, did you?”
Thatcher and his big fucking mouth.
“Yes, sir, she’s fine. In my room.”
Blaise continued to study me. “She’s developed feelings for you.”
You didn’t lie to the boss. Even if it was something you wanted to lie to yourself about.
“Yes, I believe so.”
“You’re thorough,” he replied and shifted his attention back to Stellan. “If he has nothing more to tell us, then there is no reason to keep him alive.”
