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Torturing them both is going to be so much fun.
So. Much. Fun.
After making my way back to the bar and ordering Carter his drink, I make a show of looking for the King, coming across him, minus Rodriguez, chatting to a pretty blonde who’s a double for Pamela Anderson in her heyday.
“Carter’s been waiting for you,” I say, not bothering with fucking niceties. I didn’t like him before, and I sure as fuck don’t like him now.
“Ah yes, just got distracted sampling the goods,” he replies, his fingers trailing across the woman’s arse, before he gives her a slap. She laughs and he presses his lips to her ear, whispering something to her.
“See you later then,” she says breathily.
I make a mental note to make sure that never happens. The King ain’t one for treating women well and I’m betting he’s not the type to let them know he’s a sadistic bastard up front either. Besides, I’m hoping by the end of the night he’ll be in my special room at Tales getting his toenails pulled out with pliers and buried in his eye sockets, so she should be good.
“Shall we?” the King asks, watching me carefully.
“After you,” I reply, stepping aside so he can go ahead, not because I’m feeling polite but because I don’t trust the cunt not to stick a knife into my back.
When we reach the private room, I grip the door handle before he can. “Allow me,” I say, my gaze purposefully trailing to the gun holstered to my waist. Just like I knew he would, he follows my gaze.
“Is that for me?” he asks.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On how well you behave.”
“You’re very distrustful, aren’t you, Beast?” he says, a smirk pulling up his lips.
“It comes with the territory.”
“Do you trust anyone?”
“Very few.”
“That’s wise,” he agrees, broadening his smirk into a million-watt smile that’s even more insincere than this stupid fucking conversation we’re having now. I move to open the door, but he rests his hand on my arm. “I do have a piece of advice for you though.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” I ask, half a second away from snapping his fingers off my arm.
“Some men were born to rule, and some men were born to be ruled. There’s only room for one King, so if I were you I’d back the winning side.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It meansIhave the power to give you what you want most of all.”
“And what’s that?”
His eyes drop to my chest, and even though I’m wearing a shirt that covers my fresh tattoo, it feels as though he’s seeing me fucking naked and staring right at Kate’s handprint etched into my skin.
“Her.”
I straighten up, my fingers slowly uncurling from the door handle as I ready myself to take action. “You’ve got thirty seconds to expand on that statement before I load a fucking bullet in your head,” I reply, wrapping my fingers around the handle of my gun that’s strapped to my waist.
The King smiles, a slow stretch of lips across his face. “Then let’s talk.”
