Destructive King Page 6
I jerked to my feet and started gathering dishes. “Anyone else finished?”
The entire table fells silent.
I frowned. “What?”
My mom stood then leaned over and felt my forehead. “Are you getting sick?”
I batted her hand away in annoyance. “Ma, really? I help with dishes, and suddenly I’m sick?”
“You’ve literally faked your death at the dinner table in order to get out of doing dishes.” Izzy pointed out. “Twice.”
“It was a joke!” I said defensively as I balanced the plates on each other.
“It wasn’t funny,” Mom deadpanned. “You sure you’re—”
“Great! Just trying to stop being an asshole, thanks for nothing.” I quickly left the table and put all the dishes in the sink.
“You forgot mine,” Annie said in a small voice from behind me.
Every single nerve ending came alive. With rage. With lust, if I was being completely honest. With hatred at myself, at her, at Claire.
I could see her small frame reflected in the kitchen window. The lights above her created an almost halo effect through the inky darkness of night. And I started to wash the dishes because I couldn’t compartmentalize my feelings anymore.
Maybe that was why I was numb, my body so fucking confused right along with my heart that we were in a purgatory of sorts.
Great.
“You can just set it on the counter,” I finally said, careful not to say anything hateful, wondering why I couldn’t help myself to the point that it was painful to keep my mouth shut. “I’ll get to it in a bit.”
She still hadn’t left.
With a loud sigh, I placed the plate on the counter, then very slowly turned around and crossed my arms. “Something tells me you have a question.”
Her blue eyes were huge, her lips trembled a bit as she crossed her arms like she was uncomfortable with me seeing so much skin when I’d seen her naked.
Being inside her for a few brief moments where I felt like I was cheating on my soul mate, basically was…
She trained her eyes on my shoes then. “Are we going to be safe at the university?”
My eyebrows shot up. “That’s your question?”
I immediately deflated like a popped balloon. She didn’t want to fight me? And I wasn’t making her cry. We were having a normal conversation.
I hated it.
She nodded her head, her short hair grazing her chin. “Yeah.”
It was just us in that immaculate kitchen, with its fancy white granite countertops and state-of-the-art appliances.
“A question for a question…” I said instead.
Her head jerked up. “Okay?”
“Are you afraid of me?”
She gulped. “Sometimes.”
“At least you’re honest.” I scratched the back of my head. “Look, I’m not in a good headspace right now, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t give my life for yours. Does that answer your question?”
She blinked a few times like she wasn’t sure what to say and then a slow nod of her head as she whispered, “Yes. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For answering.”
“You’re thanking me for having a normal conversation?” I asked dumbfounded.
“Well, you tend to yell at me a lot, so yeah, I’m thanking you for not threatening me, yelling, calling me names, or making fun of my tears.” Her smile was sad as she turned on her heel.
Before I could stop myself, I reached for her hand and jerked her body back against mine.
She went completely still in my arms. “Since we’re so good at conversations now…” I whispered in her ear, my arms bracing her against me. My forearms pressed against her breasts. “He’s not good for you.”
“Wh-who?”
“Tank,” I said his name like a curse. “He’s in this just like the rest of us are, only he’s more dangerous because he’s playing games with both sides. This is the only warning I’m going to give you—find someone safe.”
“Safe,” she repeated. “Safe sounds boring. Are you suggesting I find some nice accountant to settle down with? Maybe a teacher? Or a vet, they do save animals.” She struggled in my arms, and I was clearly a sick bastard because I liked her fight, would probably orgasm on the spot if she drew blood with her fingernails digging into my arms. Already my zipper was having a hell of a time containing me.
“Perfect choices. All of them,” I agreed. “Just not Tank.”
“I like Tank.”
“Tank’s a tool,” I snapped. “Besides, you know he serial dated like hell when you were gone. Something tells me you had a small fantasy that he maybe waited before sticking his dick into whatever hot girl looked his way—trust me when I say he’s a player.”
“And what? A tiger recognizes similar stripes? Is that it?” She struggled more. “Let me go.”
“I’m actually quite comfortable.” I held her harder, then heard someone walking down the hall into the kitchen, so chose that opportunity to shove her into the pantry and close the door. Flicking the light on and facing her.
“Ash.” Her eyes were frenzied. “Please, no, I can’t, I can’t do small spaces, please.” She started clawing at my chest.
Frowning, I pulled her roughly against me and ran my hands down her hair to her hips, holding her there. “It’s just a pantry, Annie, and it’s just me.”
She shuddered. “It’s small. It’s dark.”
I flicked on the light and pulled slightly away. “The only difference between the dark and the light is one small switch. The things in the dark still exist in the light, Annie. You just can’t see them—but believe me, they’re there.”
Her eyes darted to mine. “Was that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.” I found myself smiling. “Not really. I’m not the one they go to for a pep talk.”
“Somehow, I believe you.” She looked around wildly, her gaze landing on anything and everything but me. “Can you let me go now? Please?”
“Always so fucking polite.” I ran my tongue along my bottom lip. Why did her mouth look so good? And why was I even thinking about it?
Remembering the way she’d tasted.
Or the greedy way she rode my leg last year, like her body was begging for it.
“Stop looking at me like that.” She jerked away from me, but I still had my arms pinned around her.
My brain told me to let her go and that I was being an ass, but my body was frozen in place like it had been so long since I’d had human contact that it was starved. Already addicted.
“Promise me.” I lowered my head so I could look directly into her eyes, get at her level. “Promise me you’ll think about what I said. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m actually looking out for you this time. It’s not fun, you know…”
“What’s not?”
“Getting your heart obliterated,” I said through clenched teeth.
She let out a choked laugh. “Believe me, I know.”
Anger built up like a volcano inside. “The hell? You were fucking someone in Italy? Who? Who’d you spread your legs for? Tell me now—”
She slapped me so hard my ears rang. Guess there was a first for everything, son of a bitch!
I yawned and stretched my jaw. “That hurt.”
“All you do is hurt!” She struggled against me. “And for your information, I didn’t spread for anyone in Italy! The only guy I’ve ever even been close to sleeping with kicked me out of his bed while screaming like it was my fault. So excuse me for slapping you, but most days I want to do more than slap you. You’re a bully. A jerk. An asshole with a silver spoon shoved so far up his ass that you can’t even see how your words affect the people around you. Don’t even get me started about your actions. Do yourself and everyone else who knows you a favor, Ash. Grow up.” My arms dangled at my sides as she finally shoved away from me, opening the pantry door to see Maksim standing there with a sloppy grin on his face as he sipped his wine.
/> “Oh, ladies first.” He moved out of the way as she stormed off, grinning the entire time. He waited until she was out of earshot and then. “That was brutal, my balls were tingling, and she wasn’t even talking about me.”
“Shut up.” I shoved at him. “How much did you hear?”
“Only the interesting parts.” He shrugged, his perfect golden blond locks falling across his forehead. Damn, I hated him sometimes. “I never thought I’d see the day when Little Miss Perfect lost her temper on you.”
“It’s new.”
“I wonder why you get under her skin…”
“Probably because she hates me.”
“Huh…” Maksim scratched his head. “Well then, good thing Tank has a hard-on for her, huh? Besides, she’s too good for you.”
“Can you leave now?”
“Nah, I’m good, bro. I’m good. By the way, you might want to take care of that before going back into the kitchen.” He pointed down.
“Wha—” I looked down, and sure enough, you’d think I’d been in the friggin pantry masturbating next to the Cheerios.
“No judgment, bro, you do you. If small dark places next to the rice make you horny, I’m all for it, but something tells me it’s a feisty little straight-A student that’s causing that reaction as much as you hate to admit—”
I gritted my teeth. “Leave.”
“Oh right, right, um, do you need like lotion or something? I think there’s some coconut oil in there. I heard great things—”
“Son of a bitch, Maksim. Do you ever shut up?”
He winked. “Never.”
“You slept with my sister.”
His smile immediately fell. “What’s that, Junior? Yup.” He cupped his ear. “Sorry, bro, gotta go.” He darted away from me so fast I had no hope of catching him, and of course, he did this at about the same time King arrived for the party. He took one look at me, then the pantry, then me as a slow smile curved his lips.
Without warning, he took out his phone and snapped a picture.
“KING!” I bellowed, fists at my sides.
“Shhhh, wouldn’t want your mom running in here worried for her poor little boy only to see he’s finally turned into a man, and Maksim’s right about the coconut oil, trust me, bro.”
I squeezed my eyes shut as he patted me lightly on the shoulder and strolled into the dining room.
I had a hell of a time walking back to the pool house.
And the minute I reached for myself, I had guilt.
So much fucking guilt.
Claire was my last.
Which meant the minute I touched someone else, had sex with someone else, she would be erased, or at least it felt that way.
So I lay there, uncomfortable as hell, and tried to let the sadness take away whatever the hell was wrong with my body.
Unfortunately, when I closed my eyes, all I saw was Annie’s face.
And my hate grew in that moment to epic proportions.
Fuck turning over a new leaf—this was all her fault.
And I was going to destroy her.
Starting with Tank.
Ending with me.
A cruel smile passed my lips as the anger left; suddenly, I had a plan, one that guaranteed revenge.
And for the first time in over a year, I exhaled a sigh of relief, a sigh of cruelty, a sigh of purpose.
After all, sometimes destroying someone is equal to fixing yourself, right?
This wouldn’t end in bloodshed after all—no, it would end with tears.
Hers.
And I’d finally have my revenge.
“Don’t worry, Claire… I’ll take care of her, the only way I know how.”
Chapter Six
I fall asleep in the full and certain hope that my slumber shall not be broken; And though I be all-forgetting, Yet shall I shall not be forgotten, But continue that life in the thoughts and deeds of those I loved. —Samuel Butler
Chase
“Come in.” I squeezed my eyes shut then rubbed them with my fingertips before the door to my office swung open.
Footsteps sounded.
Fourteen of them.
He was wearing boots, size twelve—no, thirteen.
His breathing was even, but there was a certain taste of agitation in the air like he didn’t want to be here but knew he had no other choice.
“Update me.” I crossed my bulky arms. I’d been hitting the gym more now. I had no other choice. Ash was bulking up, fuck he was a mini-me in every way that I hated.
I wouldn’t wish his pain on anyone.
And I knew firsthand what it was like to lose someone you loved, only to find out later that they weren’t who you thought they were.
Claire, in this instance at least, wasn’t a rat.
No, she’d been worse.
Weak.
“I can’t do it anymore.” She hung her head in her hands. The green chair she was sitting in may as well be a confessional as she laid down all her sins at my feet—the feet of her soon to be father-in-law. “I love him. I do, but this life? You have to help me convince him. Please!”
I weighed my words, took my time as I tapped my red pen against the black folder in front of me.
Annie Smith.
Smith, my ass.
How did Phoenix even survive with the weight of these secrets on his soul?
Sex?
Alcohol?
The man didn’t even seem to have a vice—and I was pretty sure I’d have multiple vices at this point; I was already side-eyeing the brandy on my liquor cart.
But I needed to be sober for this conversation, unfortunately.
Slowly, I stood to my feet, adjusted my patriotic as fuck red tie, and walked over to the empty green chair next to Claire’s.
I would need to be careful.
After all, when dealing with weak individuals, you weren’t allowed to come on too strong; no, you had to come from behind, pretend to be a friend even though they’d just shown all their cards as foe.
My son.
My fucking son deserved better than that.
Even if he loved her.
He deserved a Queen.
Not someone I could so easily use as a pawn.
I sat, crossed my legs, and put a hand on her thigh. “You realize that by coming to me, you’ve already lost?”
She sniffled and then wiped her nose. “I—I did something unforgivable.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the gauntlet to slice through my head, my heart because I knew before she even said it—she would ask me to keep this from my son.
At all costs.
And I would want nothing more than to tell him.
Because as much as he drove me crazy—he was my only son. And I knew as he grew in age, he would become my best friend, my confidant, my everything. And her secret would destroy what solid ground I had with him.
I felt it in my soul.
“What did you do?” I whispered. “And how can I undo it? Because you aren’t sitting in my office, making it so I had to cancel multiple appointments because you guys got in a fight.”
She lifted her head, her lower lip trembling. “I lied.”
“About?”
“Something horrible.” She looked away as tears streamed down her cheeks. “And now I’m stuck.”
“Why did you lie, Claire? What drove you to be anything but honest with the man who has shown you nothing but love and honesty?”
She looked down at her hands as she wrung the tissue over and over again. “A lie, no matter how big or small, is still wrong, and I did it because I thought he would change his mind. I thought maybe if—if he believed me, he’d walk.”
And there it was.
The gauntlet sliced.
The head rolled.
The soul died.
I kept my emotions neutral. “Walk? From what?”
“This.” She sniffled again and finally looked at me. “I can’t do it, Chase, I can barely stomach it. I thought if
I just pretended that I’d eventually turn into this, this monster of my own making, but instead, it gets harder and harder, and he—” She cursed. “He likes it. No, he loves it. He loves this life. He loves… killing.”
“Is this your way of saying you want our enemies alive?”
“No!” Her head jerked up. “It’s just… I know he would never hurt me, but sometimes in his sleep he says random names, he taunts them, and then he kills, it’s like a sport to Ash—you’ve made him this monster, and I can’t help but see blood every time I see his face. It’s going to destroy him unless we leave. Chase, we have to leave.”
They weren’t going anywhere.
“The only out clause for my son is death, Claire…” I waited, tilting my head as goosebumps seemed to rise and scatter over her flesh and her eyes seemed to flicker away like she was trying to keep all her secrets inside but struggling with the quantity of them. I made a mental note to talk to Nikolai later. “For you… it would need to be the same.”
“I understand.”
The chair creaked as I shifted my position and leaned in. “You would die before living this life, Claire. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I would die before letting this life destroy him.” She clenched her teeth. “I would die for him to live, to truly live.”
I cursed under my breath. “You were never strong enough.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” she screamed as she finally grew enough balls to fully face me, her expression tight. “I know what I’m capable of; I also know what he’s capable of. I can’t bring him back from this, Chase. I can’t. I don’t know how. My love is as strong as my fear, and that’s not fair to him. It’s not fair to us! Or anyone. If he goes off the deep end, I don’t think I’ll ever get him back, and I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve a madman killer with so much blood on his hands he laughs in his sleep in order to take away the pain.”
I leaned in, my free hand cupping her face. “So. Fucking. Weak.”
She jerked her face away. “I’ve made up my mind.”
“And you’ll die for it,” I whispered. “There is no resurrection story here, Claire.”
“You know what’s sad?” She shook her head. “Is I know what this will do to him. And still… I truly believe I’m saving his life.”
“No.” I sighed. “You’re ruining it. You will be the final nail in the coffin, Claire. You’re afraid of the monster he’ll become? Well, congratulations. You’ve just created him.” I stood. “My assistant will see you out. We’ll be in touch.”