Destructive King

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Destructive King Page 19

by Rachel Van Dyken


  “Creepy allegory,” Junior muttered. Then he shrugged and conceded, “But accurate.”

  “So?” I faced my dad. “You guys feel like handing over those credit cards now?”

  “Oh.” Dad grinned. “Annie’s already got one.”

  “The hell!” I rolled my eyes. “You made me wait until last year!”

  “She’s a careful spender.” He grinned.

  Annie shifted in my arms; I could feel her nerves at being the center of attention— I should let her go, I should set her away from me; instead, I pulled her tighter.

  Refused to stop touching her.

  Because she was here.

  Alive.

  Breathing.

  And I found that my heart needed a reminder of all of those things as my brain tried to plan a way to take down anything that threatened my blood—my soul.

  I searched the bosses’ faces, and then my cousins’, each of them had their own reason for ending this—now.

  “So?” I grinned at Junior. “You ready to play arrogant prick with too much money and a bimbo on your arm?”

  “Hey!” Serena shot me a glare. “Let them think I’m stupid; it will give me time to shove my stiletto into their eye sockets and hear them scream.”

  “Graphic,” Maksim muttered under his breath, while the rest of the cousins seemed to be uncertain.

  “It’s a good plan.” I looked at my dad. “We’ll pair off.” I clung to Annie then. “Nobody’s alone. Sergio can fit us all with earpieces, and if nothing insane happens then, we still get to party.”

  “No drinking,” Dad pointed out.

  “I would never drink and shoot.” I gave him a grin.

  Junior frowned. “But what about that time—”

  “Not now,” I snapped, earning a shit-eating grin from both Junior and Maksim while King shared a look with Valerian—one I knew all too well. He still struggled with the power difference between the two. King may be the future Capo, but for now, his brother was already a boss, in charge of countless families and a fortune, and I knew it weighed heavy on him, seeing it change Valerian in a way that made him age beyond his twenty-one years and nearly look identical to the other bosses.

  It needed to end.

  Whatever the hell this was.

  “The moms won’t like it,” Nixon finally said as if peering into the room next door where they were with the younger kids. “But I agree with Ash—and Annie—draw them out, before they surprise us again.”

  Annie exhaled.

  “Tomorrow night, The Regis, Scary Dad—”

  He groaned.

  “Think you can make it happen for your very favorite son?”

  “Only son.” The corners of his mouth tilted up into a smile. “And of course, what’s the use of being a Senator if you can’t abuse some power every once in a while.”

  Tex burst out laughing. “Good one.”

  “I was being serious,” Dad grumbled.

  “Every once and a while?” Nixon added. “That’s like saying it was an accident when you shoved someone’s feet into cement last week and dropped them into Lake Michigan…”

  My dad just grinned. “He slipped.”

  “Scary bastard,” Junior muttered under his breath, earning an equally terrifying wink from my dad.

  Andrei spoke next. “I’ll help make arrangements, and it goes without saying—dress the part, children.”

  “You’re literally a year under forty,” I pointed out.

  He adjusted his tie. “And yet…” He eyed my outfit up and down.

  “And yet, what?” I asked.

  “Oh, that was it.” Phoenix jumped in. “He was insulting your outfit without using words; we’ve been working on his bedside manner, lately.”

  “It shows.” Tex did a slow clap.

  “Parents,” I grumbled. “Keep us updated, and until the party, everyone stays here, agreed?”

  “Sure thing,” Dad said smoothly. “Kartini can stay with Annie in her room, and we’ll set…”

  As his voice trailed off with all the arrangements, all I kept thinking was over my dead body.

  She wasn’t going to leave my side.

  Even if it meant I was tying her up and throwing her over my shoulder, then hiding her in my closet.

  I winced. Somehow I went from protective mode to serial killer, all within the span of a few seconds.

  Welcome to the mafia.

  I half expected for someone to yell out, “And break!” Like we were playing our annual football game against the dads, but instead, everyone slowly dispersed.

  Annie moved to pull away from me.

  “No.” I held her firm.

  She glanced up at me. “But, your dad said—”

  “And I say no.” I licked my lips and stared at her full mouth. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

  “You’re such a damn bully.” She squirmed beneath my regard, trying to get out of my grasp.

  My eyebrows shot up. “Did you just say damn?”

  “Maybe.” Her cheeks flushed. “Look, I need to go help Kartini get settled in; she’s terrified right now.”

  “So am I.” I lied. “Petrified of my own shadow, can’t trust me not to shoot at anything that moves, and it’s going to get dark later, which means I’m going to be even more scared, and I don’t want to have to army crawl all the way back to the house and up the balcony stairs just to beg you to sleep with me and make the monsters go away.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What’s it like?”

  “What’s what like?”

  “Being the monster you’re actually afraid of?”

  I tipped my head. “Touché.”

  Her smile was faint. “On that note…”

  She tried getting away.

  Again.

  If I wasn’t so arrogant, I might honestly feel offended that she struggled to get away from me every few minutes.

  “Son.” Dad walked over to us. “A minute?”

  “Sure.” His expression wasn’t the least bit cheerful.

  Great.

  He turned his icy cold stare to Annie. Amazing how his face transformed into a smile. “Annie, why don’t you go help Kartini get settled in? I’ll send Ash after you later.”

  “Good, threaten her with my presence. That will make her want to stay.” I sighed.

  She pulled herself away from my body without a backward glance and made a beeline for Kartini, looping their arms together as they made their way down the hall.

  “Sit.” Dad pointed to one of the wooden chairs at the kitchen table.

  We were alone again, just me and him, and about a billion secrets that I’d probably never know holding a constant wave of tension between us.

  “Whoever’s after you—they know you’re lethal…”

  “A compliment? And here I thought you were about to give me another terrifying discussion on sex.”

  He winked. “Saving my next one for later.”

  I exaggerated a shudder. “Please don’t.”

  His fingertips drummed against the table, he looked over his shoulder and then leaned forward onto his thighs, clasping his fingers together like he was about to tell me someone died. “We need Sergio to start a rumor… a rumor that will reach their ears, eyes, something that would make the enemy curious, something that would make you vulnerable.”

  A ripple of awareness washed over me, trickling down my spine. “Okay… where are you going with this?”

  He bit down on his lower lip. “She trusts you to keep her safe.”

  “Who?”

  “Don’t play dumb; it’s a shit look on you, son.”

  “Annie.” I actually looked away, afraid if we locked gazes he’d see too much, the bitterness, the anger, the protectiveness, the fear, the need for more, and… the loneliness; it was all there on the surface every time someone said her name.

  “You’re going to need to revert to your asshole self.”

  “And so soon after pulling my head out of my ass. Lovely,” I grumb
led.

  He sighed. “It will need to look real, like your spiraling, like you’re using her—get a hotel room. Pretend to be drunk. Keep her safe, but appear aloof, everyone will tell you to sleep it off. You’ll need to be cruel, Ash. You’ll need to be—”

  “Myself.” My heart sank. “Let me just tell her so she knows, I can’t and won’t do that to her again, Dad—”

  “If she knows, her responses won’t be real. You have tonight… and then tomorrow…” As his voice trailed off, he sighed and met my gaze.

  My chest felt so tight it was hard to breathe. “What you’re saying… it makes sense, but I can’t just—”

  “What’s going to keep her safe, Ash? What’s going to keep your cousins safe? What’s going to work better? You flirting with a pretty girl and being a gentleman, or stepping off the ledge and letting your guard down. I don’t need you to kiss the girl—I need you to make her cry.”

  I clenched my fist, feeling all the blood drain from my hand as my jaw locked in place, teeth grinding, I finally answered. “I’ll do it.”

  “She’ll understand, son.”

  I snorted out a laugh. “Or she’ll never forgive me because she’ll never trust my word again.”

  My dad stared me down longer than what felt comfortable for any sane human, then said. “If she loves you. She’ll understand. This is the job, Ash. It’s what you do. It’s what you’re good at. She needs to get that, see that if she wants any part of this life—sacrifices must be made.”

  Well, if that wasn’t a severe case of deja vu.

  “That it?” I stood.

  “Yeah, that’s it…” He jerked his head toward the stairway. “Now go do what you’ve been dying to do since I started this painfully long conversation—grab Annie and spend some time with her. And Ash… make it count.”

  I forced the anger back down, just barely. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

  I was maybe five steps away from him when I heard him say. “I’m proud of you, son.”

  “I hope you still say that after I break her heart.”

  “Her heart was never in question of getting broken.”

  I froze. “What?”

  “Yours, however…”

  I shook my head, refusing to look back. “You can’t break what’s barely been salvaged and broken, Dad.”

  “You’re a fool if you think your heart was anything but whole, before Claire, during Claire, and after Claire. She never had the chance to break you—Annie does.”

  My heart pounded against my ribs. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing and kept walking, and when I finally made it to Annie’s room, I didn’t have the energy to even try to digest whatever cryptic words my dad had said to me.

  Instead, I just barked, “You.” Like a complete caveman. I pointed at Annie and did this weird grunt that had Kartini looking at me like I was going insane, which honestly, I felt like I was at that point.

  “I think he’s trying to communicate,” Kartini whispered. “Quick, if he starts beating his chest, look away, or he’ll see it as a challenge to his dominance.”

  I flipped her off with both hands.

  “Look at the male homo sapien as he uses his fingers to communicate what his words cannot… interesting, very interesting.”

  “I hope to God you fall in love with someone who can train you, I really do.” I sighed. “Annie, let’s go, you’re my let’s not get killed buddy.”

  Annie paled. “I’m not sure I like that title. Can we come up with something happier?”

  “Ah, ah, ah, ah, staying alive.” Kartini did a little dance. “No?”

  “No,” we said in unison.

  She crossed her arms in annoyance. “Fine, fine, I’ll be okay all by myself, in this large room after getting nearly blown to bits by a stuffed animal, no big...”

  “Don’t worry, Tini, Tank will be back soon to babysit.”

  She lunged for me.

  I jerked back against the door.

  She was tiny.

  But Sergio had taught her how to pack a punch.

  Footsteps sounded down the hall, then stopped behind me.

  I glanced over my shoulder. “And God provides!”

  “Huh?” Tank glared.

  “You’re the sacrificial sheep…” I grinned. “Oh, and she’s singing Stayin Alive, so good luck with that.”

  I grabbed Annie by the hand before she could protest, and then I rubbed the middle of my chest with the other.

  I had less than twenty-four hours to show her the real me, the one who was finally letting go—getting the closure I needed, the one who was still trying to give her a damn present she clearly didn’t even want.

  Twenty-four hours before the monster came back.

  And I wondered if she’d ever forgive me for using her to draw out our enemies. I couldn’t help but think about Claire.

  About how I forced her hand.

  And I didn’t want to force Annie.

  She was too—sweet. Too pure.

  Claire had seen the necessity of the parts we played—but I knew she hated it.

  Which meant it would destroy Annie to have to do the same.

  Right?

  Then again, last year she had offered herself up when I needed her, but that was just a ruse, right? To be useful? To make out?

  I wiped my hand down my face.

  “Slow down.” Annie jogged after me.

  “Sorry, just wanted to make it to the pool house before it rained.”

  She stumbled and looked up. “There’s like one cloud.”

  “Well, you never know.” I gave her one last tug, and then we were at my door, going into the house, and I was shutting it behind us, pressing her up against it.

  I looked into her big blue eyes and said my truth then.

  Said what I should have said months ago.

  I cupped her face, my forehead touching hers as my thumbs flicked her bottom lip. “I need you.”

  Her little gasp was all the invitation I needed as I pressed my body against hers, and then my mouth, sliding my tongue past any protest she may have had.

  And taking.

  Stealing.

  Keeping.

  “Mine,” I whispered. “Mine.”

  I pushed my hands under shirt and then very slowly ran my fingertips down her sides, breasts, nipples. My tongue lined the outside of her ear, and I held her close and murmured, “I’ll stop when you can’t take it anymore, and then… you get your present.”

  “This isn’t it?”

  A dark chuckle was the only answer I offered.

  “You don’t have to, you know…” she whispered. “You don’t owe me anything—”

  I pinched her nipple, and she threaded her finger into my hair then tugged.

  “You still don’t get it. I want you. I need you.” I studied her eyes, looking for… I didn’t know what. Because I was terrified she would tell me no.

  She searched my gaze; it was like she was raking through the mess that was my soul like she would know all my secrets.

  I didn’t care.

  “Then take me,” she murmured.

  She didn’t have to say it twice.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “No one gets out of here alive.” —Jim Morrison

  Annie

  He was claiming me.

  Kissing me.

  Hands in my hair, mouth sliding against mine, his lips massaging gently, beckoning me to open.

  And I hated it.

  I hated all of it.

  Because he was being gentle on purpose—as if that was what I wanted.

  I hated myself now too, because I should be jumping for joy, but instead, I wanted to slap him across the face and ask him to treat me like—like he had.

  As if I was Claire’s ghost.

  Oh, God.

  Sick to my stomach, I pulled back. “Ash…”

  His eyes flickered to my swollen mouth and then back up again, and something shifted.

  “You don�
��t want this.” He stumbled back.

  “I want this. I just don’t want it like this,” I said stupidly.

  His grin was almost cruel again like I’d offended him, which I probably had. “Then how do you want it, perfect little princess? It’s cute that you think this is really up to you, that you get a say.”

  I glared. “Amazing, is this your first time getting turned down?”

  “Is this your first time getting turned on?” he countered.

  “You’re an asshole!”

  “And you’re a fucking liar!”

  My hand went flying. He caught it midair and flipped me around, pinning my chest against the wall, his body pressing me there, his breath hot on my neck. “If I remember correctly.” He had both hands prisoner above my head, while his other hand cupped my ass and squeezed.

  I let out a little gasp, my body bucking against him.

  “Sensitive.” His chuckle was dark perfection.

  My body shuddered.

  “Run,” he whispered in my ear before tugging it with his teeth. A sharp pain sliced through my skin as his nose trailed down my neck. “Run, but remember… finders keepers.”

  “Ash—”

  “Annie.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Ten, nine, eight—”

  “Crap! Ash, let me explain. I just meant that—”

  “Seven.” He gripped my ass again and then pulled away, leaving me still straining back toward him. “Six.”

  Slowly I turned.

  His gaze raged.

  His posture was rigid.

  His jaw clenched.

  This was Ash.

  This was my Ash.

  This was what I needed.

  What he craved.

  “Five.” His eyes flashed.

  And I ran.

  I missed the doorknob about seventeen times, and then I was running as thunder sounded overhead. Rain started to pour from the one dark cloud? Really?

 

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