AllFreeNovel
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I shuffle out of my briefs, holding my cock before slipping beneath the hot water. “Yeah, well, whatever it is, we gonna handle that?”
“Can’t.” Priest stares at me in the mirror, biting down on his toothbrush. “We actually can’t. Halen is right, they’re the same rank as us and are technically Kings. We can’t fucking do shit about it.” He leans over to spit, and I tap the soap dispenser until foam curls into the palm of my hand.
“So, that’s it?”
Priest shrugs. “Yeah, I mean she’s twenty. I should have probably laid off her a long time ago. Make no mistake, if anyonehurts them or does them wrong, we know the drill.” I turn the shower off and step out, water dripping over the heated tiles. Wrapping the towel around my waist, Priest’s eyes fall to my discarded clothes. “She ask about that?”
“About what?” I ignore the bloody clothes, flashing him a smirk. “Naw, bro. She knows better than to ask questions.”
A door opens and then closes. “If you’re walking back in here for more bullshit, Halen, my dick is out this time.”
Priest shoves me backward slightly and I laugh, knowing damn well Halen is fucking toast for the rest of the day. This is her pattern. She stirs shit, and then bounces. It’s always been that way with her.
“I’ve seen your dick more than I’ve seen my own at this point,” Vaden calls from the room, and I make my way back out, drying my hair with another towel. Vaden’s eyes come to mine. The Vitiosis duo have always been a fascination to people who see them. Aside from their—I’ll just admit it—attractive looks, they both share an, I guess, abnormality. Vaden’s right eye is ice blue, his left is brown, and Stella the same, only opposite sides, and where Stella’s brown eye is, it’s a fifth covered. It’s eighty percent brown and twenty percent blue, where her other eye is completely blue.
Brantley told us stories as kids, saying that it was because half his soul was doomed. Tried to scare Vaden as a kid, only nothing could scare him.
Not one single fucking thing.
Good for us; too bad for our enemies.
I shove on a pair of jeans from Priest’s dresser, running my hand through my hair. “We’re actually fucking leaving them here when we leave next week.”
The door opens and Aire enters, flipping his cap backward with Samson not far behind him. Aire falls onto the leather sofa,blowing out a deep breath. “Fuck. Not sure I asked for this kind of life. Not gonna lie.”
Priest’s eyes come to mine, before flying to him. “Well, shit. You can always leave?”
Aire moves forward, looking between Priest and I. “Fuck no! I’m just sayin’. Why is my last name the one that is in finance? Why couldn’t my King lineage be Nate fucking Malum, or Bishop motherfucking Hayes, or fuck! Brantley Vitiosis. Y’all are iconic. This fuck and I are just—”
“Bro, shut the fuck up with your whining.” I roll my eyes, reaching for the canister with weed inside of it. I pop it open and sprinkle a decent amount in a blunt paper. “You think our life is fucking easy because of who our dads are? Naw, bruh. You’ve got it twisted. We’re burning time right now, but once that gavel is in our hand, it’s on.”
“I didn’t say easier,” Aire brushes me off. “I just meant none of you go to college. We still fucking have to.”
I chuckle, licking the blunt paper.
It’s not his fault. I mean, he, and Samson have never been directly inside, even though they are in the technical sense Kings. Chase Divitae—Latin for wealth—is Aire’s father, and Cash Ditio—Latin for power—is Samson’s. Our duties aren’t quite on par with theirs. Through high school we were all tight. But after… the famous divide had already begun. Dad’s generation had all founding names. Through the years, they thinned out to the final three once they all branched off to their respectful callings. Hayes, Malum, and Vitiosis are always the only three who go forward to the table.
“When do you guys head back?” Samson asks, watching as I light the end of the joint and take a hit.
I hand it to him while blowing out a thick cloud. “This Friday. But since Halen and the girls have decided to throw diva…”
“Mmm, I was gonna talk to you about that. It’s everywhere that she had her tongue down someone’s throat at Devil’s Cockpit. Whuddup with that?” Samson passes it to Vaden, lowering down on the bed opposite me. Samson is definitely the opposite of Aire—in a good way.
“He got loose.” Vaden cuts down the conversation before it can get far. They know not to ask questions.
Aire shrugs, changing the subject. “So where were the girls even going?”
I freeze. My eyes fly to Priest and Vaden. That was something we hadn’t even asked ourselves amongst all the drama… and blood.
Aire continues, not picking up on the shift in atmosphere. I’ve had to stop Priest from killing him multiple times through the years because he’s so fucking stupid. I’m not stopping him anymore.
“I’d heard of them making appearances in as far as NYC.”
“You heard and didn’t think to tell us about this?” In fact, I might just kill him myself. Unfortunately, I can’t just switch off to not giving a fuck so quickly like Priest can. I always react with emotion, usually aggression. Not that Priest isn’t unhinged, because he is, and usually I’m the logical one when it comes to what counts, but not when it comes to the girls.
We’ve been watching over them all their lives. That shit doesn’t switch off automatically, at least not for me. Vaden? Eh. He’s a cold motherfucker anyway. Priest? Not enough involvement with the EKC for him to care. If Halen is getting in the way of anything to do with the club, he’ll scratch her out. Blood or not, the Elite Kings Club and keeping the engine steamed is all this fucker cares about really—outside of Halen.
“We haven’t been catching up as much—” Aire bites, but not enough to piss me right off. He’s smart. He knows I’d fucking lay him out.
