The way he carries himself, like a saint on a pedestal who went all out for his daughter, makes me nauseous. He was a jackass who took his anger out on his daughter through harsh words and bruises. Sylvie’s life was hell with him, as much as she hated to admit it.
What right does he have to blame me for not acting more when he treated her like a punching bag when she was alive?
I should have done something about it. Sylvie didn’t want me to, and while I wish I could say that’s the only reason I didn’t give Buster ten times the beatings he gave his daughter, that would be a lie.
I did nothing because I do nothing unless I’m told. Fuck. How am I supposed to be a leader if I can only act on others’ commands?
The conversation shifts to something lighter, glossing over the tension with Buster. They mastered this ability ages ago, recognizing that holding petty grudges with one another would lead to their ruin. I’m standing here, hands behind my back, trying to breathe slowly and calm the fire in me.
“Dad,” Odie blurts out in the middle of their conversation. “I’m a little chilly. Can Kingsley be excused to grab my jacket?”
My sister bats her eyelashes at our dad, and he nods. “That’s fine.”
I mouth a “thank you” to my sister as I back away. As much as I don’t give her credit for it, Odette always knows how to come up with the best excuses when I’m in a bind. It also helps that she’s Dad’s favorite.
I’m weaving through the crowded house, bumping into tipsy adults on my way to the patio. Stepping outside, the crisp winter air feels amazing. I take a big gulp, and it’s like heaven compared to that cramped, stuffy room I was in.
Gazing into the night sky, I see all the stars. The night sky is my escape when the pressure of being the Crowncrest and my daily grind gets overwhelming. I’ve spent hours staring into the sky, counting each speck until I can’t anymore.
They don’t judge. They can’t fucking talk, let alone criticize me. The twinkling stars in the night sky make me wonder if they, despite their silence,feelmore than I do.
“Beautiful night?” A painstakingly familiar voice asks from behind.
I suck in a heavy breath. Even when I desperately want to be alone, Rip has his way of showing up.
Leaning on the railing, I’m quiet, watching the yard from the patio. Rip pops up beside me, leaning on the railing in the same way. Even though the music is faint, I can still make out the tune. It’s classical noise pollution that I swear no one in there genuinely listens to, and it sounds like knives scraping my eardrums, and it’s all I have to focus on, so I don’t stare at Rip.
“That conversation seemed tense,” he tries. Keeping my eyes on the dark sky, I nod.
I need a goddamn break. A break from trying to prove myself for the Crown, a break from searching for the mole, a break from everything surrounding Sylvie. A break from Rip.
He grips my shoulder, and it reminds me of how my father did. “Don’t ignore me, King. You know how much that irritates me.”
“Aren’t you just full of love,” I say, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
Rip removes his hand, and even through my jacket, the warmth fades. “I do try.”
Our arms touch, and his hand is near mine, our fingers grazing. Neither of us moves away. In the night’s cold, I don’t mind the contact.
But I’d be naïve to think he only came to brush fingers, especially after our last meeting. That isn’t what our relationship has been, and it’s never what it will be. Hell, this whole thing was a mistake from the get-go, yet now it feels almost…. expected.
“I’m not here because I want your mouth around my dick,” he mutters, sounding like he’s held at gunpoint. The man knows how to read my mind. “Although that would be nice.”
The thought of it sends a pulse straight to my groin. “I said I would.”
Turning to him, I grip his waistband and pull him toward me, sparing not a second before my hand slides into his pants beyond his boxer briefs. I grasp his dick, and he grips the back of my neck and my waist, squeezing me as he inhales sharply.
We’re a few feet away from a house full of people, a mere glance through the large windows away from being seen, but I couldn’t care less. Something about Rip changes my brain chemistry, and I don’t have the energy to resist it tonight. If he wants my mouth around his thick cock, he’ll get it.
“King, hold on.” He pushes away from me, then gently pries my hand from his pants. “Not yet.”
I let out a half-scoff, half-bitter laugh. “You walked away like a sad puppy yesterday because I didn’t want to suck you off.”
Rip adjusts his pants with a grunt. “I know, and trust me, it’s taking a lot of restraint not to take you up on that offer.”
Rolling my eyes, I lean over the railing. “Then fuck off.”
Keeping my eyes ahead of me, I wait for him to leave. Instead, he comes closer, and I can smell his strong cologne.
