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Ed shuffled around with his pants, and I braced myself, coming to terms with the fact that I was going to die under a bank awning in a little town in the middle of nowhere.
As no one.
Then, Ed was gone. His weight suddenly disappeared.
There was a shuffle, then a loud explosion that echoed through my ears. A familiar sound.
I wanted to lift my head to see what was happening, but my neck wouldn’t cooperate, and my head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
Strong arms reached around my back and under my knees, lifting me effortlessly into the air, cradling me against a hard chest. I tried to fight off whoever it was, but I couldn’t manage anything more than a wiggle.
“I got you,” a familiar deep voice murmured into my hair.
King.
“I thought you were letting me go.” I said, my thoughts all swimming around each other in my head, smashing into one another.
“I changed my mind.” King’s muscles barely tensed under my weight. He covered me with a leather jacket and wasn’t the least bit strained when he walked out into the rain.
The world around me grew fuzzy. “I thought my life was supposed to flash in front of my eyes?”
“Why would you think that?” he asked. In my weakened state, I didn’t know if the concern in his voice was genuine or something I was making up.
“Because that’s what happens when you’re dying,” I answered.
“You’re not dying.”
“Oh, good. Because I don’t have a life to flash in front of my eyes. I thought whatever higher power exists up there was just showing me you instead.”
“Why would you see me if you were dying?” he asked. When I didn’t answer immediately King shook me and said something about trying to stay awake, but I couldn’t listen. I believe what I said next was very similar to, “Cause you might be all angry and stuff, but you’re really pretty to look at.” I yawned. “Why did you come back for me?”
I used all the energy I had left to open an eye and glance around King’s shoulder. Ed was slumped against the ATM, staring blankly ahead.
A bullet hole between his eyes.
King held me tighter and lowered his mouth to my ear.
“Because you’re mine.”
Chapter Ten
Doe
I awoke submerged in warm water. Every ache and bruise and sore throbbed in the healing heat. When I opened my eyes, King was hovering over the edge of the tub, washcloth in hand.
I gasped and sat up quickly, sloshing water over the side and onto the floor. I scooted to the far edge, crossing my arms over my breasts. King forcefully grabbed my wrist and pulled, removing the only protection I had against his gaze. With his other hand, he trailed his calloused fingertips from my collarbone to my breast. When he made it to my nipple, he pinched.
HARD.
I yelped.
“I’ve already seen them, pup. No need to hide them from me now.” King was shirtless, his ab muscles rippled and his tattoos became animated with his every movement.
“You killed Ed,” I blurted out. The events from the night before tumbled over each other into my mind, one horrific detail after another.
“Ed?” King asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“The guy last night,” I clarified. “The one you…”
“Killed,” King finished. “I didn’t realize you two had gotten to know one another.” King raised the washcloth. I flinched. “I’m just wiping off the mud.”
“You don’t sound very remorseful. You seem fully convinced that you have the right to be judge, jury, and executioner.” I said.
“A simple ‘Thank you, King, for saving my life.’ would do.” King said. “But what you should know, and what Ed found out, is that if you fuck with me and what’s mine than yes, I am the judge. I am the jury. And sometimes, when the situation calls for it, I am the motherfucking executioner.” My stomach flipped.
“But why do you give a shit if he hurt me or not?”
“Because you’re mine.”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because it’s true.”
“I never agreed to be yours, whatever that means.”
“It’s not something you need to agree to. This isn’t a negotiation. Would you rather I’d let Ed do whatever it is he planned to do to you?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Even in the warm water, my skin turned to gooseflesh when I thought of what would have happened if King hadn’t saved me.
I would be dead.
Was I upset that Ed was dead? No. It was a him or me situation, and I was glad I’d come out on the other side with my life.
“This is why I needed a biker,” I mumbled.
“What was that?” King asked.
“Nothing,” I said. Not realizing I’d said that last part out loud.
“No, you said that’s why you needed a biker. What the fuck exactly does that mean?”
“For protection!” I snapped. “You don’t know what it’s like out there on the streets. There is an Ed on every fucking corner just waiting for you to fall asleep or not pay attention or wander into the wrong alleyway. It’s not like it was my first choice, but I didn’t know what else to do. Nikki said there would be bikers at your party. That if one liked me that he could protect me.”
“You came to the party to whore yourself out to a biker?” He sounded angry and disappointed and for some stupid reason, I really hated the idea that I’d somehow disappointed him. Almost as much as I hated the fact that I’d disappointed myself.
Or her.
“Yes,” I answered honestly. “At least for a little while. But I realize now how stupid that idea was. That’s not what I want anymore.” I didn’t realize how embarrassed I was until I spoke the words out loud.
“At least, it all makes a lot more sense now. Here lean back,” King ordered.
I tilted my chin back and he supported my neck with one hand. He grabbed a cup off the floor and scooped up water, slowly pouring it over my hair.
“You killed your mom,” I whispered. As nice as the bath was, I was still completely unable to get a hold of my mouth and stop the words before they poured out like water from King’s cup.
“Fucking Preppy.” King shook his head. “He shouldn’t have said anything. It’s none of your fucking business,” he spat. I’d hit a nerve. “It’s none of anyone’s fucking business.” After a moment or two of silence, his breathing again evened out and the vein in his neck stopped pulsing. He finished rinsing my hair. “You know I was in prison then, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know how long I was locked up for?”
“Three years,” I said, recalling what Preppy had told me.
“Yeah, three years. You know anyone that gets three years for murder?”
I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. It didn’t make any sense. I shook my head.
“There’s a lot more to that story. But, I’m not in a story-telling mood tonight.”
“But you killed Nikki,” I cursed myself for not being able to keep my trap shut. Much to my surprise, King laughed. An actual laugh as if I told a joke. I didn’t think the man was capable.
“No,” he countered. “I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did,” I argued. “I heard you tell Preppy you killed her. Why would you deny it?”
“Think about it. Did you actually hear me say that I killed her?”
He was right. I didn’t hear him say the actual words.
“I only said she was dead. I’m sorry, pup, but she is. I found her with a needle in her arm in a shitty motel a town over.”
King wiped a wayward tear from under my eye with the pad of his thumb.
“She shot you. Does she really deserve that tear?” He surprised me by sucking it off his thumb.
“She didn’t shoot me,” I defended. “She was trying to escape. She shot me by accident. She was aiming at you. She was desperate. We both were. Desperate people do desperate things.”
It was then I realized that I missed her. As fucked up as our relationship was, she was all I had.
And now she was gone.
“Pup, on purpose or not, the bitch shot you. To be honest, if I’d found her alive and she drew that gun again, she’d be dead now anyway.”
“My life seems to be a bunch of questions piled on top of a bunch of questions, and frankly, I’m ready to add some fucking answers into the mix before my brain explodes and leaks out of my ears.”
“How…graphic of you.”
“I’m serious. Why did you look for me? Why did you even bother bringing me back here?”
“When I let you go, it was a momentary lapse in judgment. The reason why I let you go doesn’t matter. The fact is that your friend is dead, and you still owe me. You’re my property, and you will be mine until I decide otherwise.”
He ran the washcloth down my legs and brushed over the wound on my foot. I cried out, and he scowled. “You’re pretty banged up.”
“I guess that’s what happens when you’re left in the woods to rot and then walk miles barefoot in the blazing sun,” I spat. I expected him to argue with me, fight with me, but he surprised me.
