Playing To Win: The Complete King Brothers Collection (A Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Teagan Kade

  I stop, the goon who smiled nodding me on. “They’re waiting. Move.”

  “I’ve got to go,” I tell him, squeezing my legs together. “Number one, I promise.”

  I almost see his eyes rolling behind those cut-price mafia shades. He jerks his head to the left. “Follow me.”

  I’m led down a small hall and into a bathroom.

  “You going to give me some privacy or you get off on golden showers?” I ask.

  He breathes out and closes the door.

  As soon as it’s closed, I pull out my cell and start to text Nolan. How stupid are these guys? Funnily enough, I’m more concerned about him thinking I’ve stood him up than being dragged here against my will. Don’t call back, I finish.

  The fuck? he replies. You okay?

  Yes, I text.

  Address?

  There’s a split second of hesitation before I reply, texting it out and adding, He’s got bodyguards. Don’t do anything stupid.

  There’s a knock on the door. “Let’s go.”

  “Give me a fucking second!” I bellow, as dramatically as I can.

  I delete the conversation and turn off my cell, slipping it into my ass crack. Let Vin Diesel out there find it now.

  I reach over and flush the toilet, opening the door and emerging looking refreshed. “Ah, that’s better.”

  “Move,” the goon repeats, shifting behind me.

  I’m led to a large open space at the back of the house. My father’s seated there with someone who I assume is that Harry idiot beside him. They’re both wearing the same, smug expression, smiles like oil slicks all ’round. Both have tumblers of whiskey in front of them. Do they think they’re gangsters or something? Not with a pink flamingo floating in the pool outside.

  I take a seat. Or rather, I’m seated, two goons standing at my back to make sure I don’t leave the table. I feel like I’m four years old.

  My father smiles at me from the opposite side of the table. “Linnea, darling. So nice of you to join us.”

  I give him the finger.

  He doesn’t falter, gesturing to the corporate pin-up boy beside him. “This is Harry, who I was telling you about. He’s excited to meet you.”

  “Charmed,” the human robot chirps, with about as much enthusiasm as a lump of coal.

  I give him the finger too, share the love.

  My father smiles. “As you can see, Harry, my daughter’s a little… rough around the edges, shall we say, but with time, the right man to guide her, I’m confident she’ll come around.”

  “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself to our guest, Linnea?”

  I’ve got a few zingers for that, but I know the silent treatment will work best, absolutely cut my father up.

  So, I give him the finger again.

  He sighs, his jaw setting. That’s how I know I’m hitting the spot.

  He stands, the chair he was seated in pushed back as he paces the length of the table, swiping a finger across its glass surface and bringing it up for inspection.

  “Your mother didn’t know about decorum either, Linnea, but I showed her and I will show you.”

  It takes all my restraint not to launch myself over there and strangle him with that stupid houndstooth tie he’s wearing.

  Instead, he gets the finger again.

  I sense the goons getting itchy behind me. Let them.

  I can’t believe my father’s acting like this is perfectly normal, his bodyguards keeping me at the table while he talks to himself. It’s pathetic.

  I half jump when a speaker in the middle of the table starts to squawk. “Everything okay there, Rex?”

  Harry leans over to speak. “Perfectly fine, Dad. We’re really hitting it off,” he says, winking at me.

  Vom.

  So it’s Daddy listening in. Even better.

  My father pauses his pacing, speaking louder. “Everything’s under control, Benjamin. The mic’s a bit hard to hear. That’s all.”

  I smile and give him the finger.

  He’s starting to rage all right.

  But that’s perfectly fine. All I have to do is sit here and wait for Nolan, because regardless of what I said I know he’ll take action.

  I doubt even the mighty Rex Marsden is ready for what happens when you fuck with a King.

  CHAPTER NINE

  NOLAN

  I find Phoenix and Peyton in the media room playing UFC on the PlayStation.

  Peyton tosses his controller across the sofa, pointing at the screen. “Clean fight, my ass. What was that?”

  Phoenix, smiling away, simply shrugs. “It’s the Ultimate Fighting Championship, not Wrestlemania, bro. A little dirty elbow to the groin never hurt anyone.”

  Peyton leaps onto Phoenix, wrangling him to the floor trying to dig his elbow into his nuts. “Is that so? Never hurt anyone, huh?”

  I stand at the back of the room shaking my head. If a stranger was to walk in here, they’d either think it was strange for two grown-ass men to be acting like ten-year-olds, or some weird sexual ritual.

  “Oi, assholes,” I call out.

  They stop. Phoenix popping his head up to spot me, his arm around Peyton’s neck. “Nol, you want in on this?”

  “On the love-in you’ve got going on? No, thanks, but if you are looking to expend a bit of physical aggression, perhaps I can help.”

  Phoenix releases his arm, Peyton falling forward and coughing. “What did you have in mind?”

  I take out my car keys and rattle them in the air. “Road trip.”

  *

  We pull up on the other side of the street. I thought my father was top of the pile when it came to ugly, over-the-top houses, but the white-washed abomination on the other side of the road belonging to one Rex Marsden would argue otherwise.

  Peyton’s looking out the window of my car. “You’re saying they’ve got Linnea, in there?”

  I nod. “It’s up to us to get her out. What do you say?”

  Phoenix leans over Peyton for a better look. “I say it’s a suicide mission.”

  “So you’re in?”

  “Fuck yeah,” he replies, elbowing Peyton. “And you, superstar? You only good on the field or can you actually put that muscle to use in the real world?”

  I see Peyton smile in the rear-view. “Just point me in the right direction. Cops?” he queries.

  I watch the house. “No, we can handle this.”

  “You know how many guys are inside?” asks Phoenix.

  “Three or four, I’d imagine, but it’s hard to know for sure.”

  Phoenix puffs his cheeks out and exhales, drumming the window with his knuckles. “Titus is going to be pissed he missed this.”

  “It’s likely to be a good, old-fashioned brawl—nothing we haven’t been through at Crestfall before.”

  Phoenix picks up two baseball bats from the footwell, handing one to Peyton. “Understood. Let’s go break something.”

  “You didn’t bring one for me?” I ask.

  Phoenix shrugs. “Man, you couldn’t swing a bat to save your life. Besides, don’t you have like fifty hockey sticks in the trunk?”

  He’s right.

  “Small problem,” says Peyton, looking over to the house and its massive double doors. “How the fuck are we going to get in? Ram raid?”

  “And ruin a perfectly good car?” I reply, checking my watch. I spot the van coming up the street. “Right on time.”

  Peyton swivels to look. “You dragged Dan into this?”

  Dan is one of Crestfall’s finest hockey players…and delivery driver in his spare time.

  I turn around in my seat to face my brothers. “Dan will drive up with a box.” I point to the walls at the driveway. “We’ll be behind those walls, waiting. As soon as the front door opens, we’re going to sprint like all hell to get inside, got it?”

  Phoenix is eyeing up the distance. “That’s, what, ten, fifteen yards to cover?”

  Peyton smiles, hands gripping and releasing the basebal
l bat. “Easy-peasy, or have you forgotten how to use those legs of yours since you stopped playing?”

  Phoenix scoffs. “Bro, I could run rings around you when I was six. Nothing has changed.”

  I pop my door open, watching the van pull into the drive. “Let’s go.”

  The time for joking is over. It’s instant focus all around, the three of us moving to the edge of the wall, myself and Phoenix on one side, Peyton on the other.

  I look around the corner and squeeze the grip of the hockey stick, adrenaline starting to flow. Linnea is all that matters. We get it, we get her, we get out.

  Simple.

  I hear the side door of the courier van slide open, spot Dan winking at me as he takes out a random package and heads for the front doors of the house.

  I nod, whispering, “Get ready.”

  The three of us tense, prepared for action.

  I hold my hand up, wait for the front door to open and what looks like a maid to appear.

  “Now!”

  We duck and move fast together, using the van for cover and then spreading out around it.

  Peyton’s quick. He whisks around behind Dan and straight past the maid. Shock lights up her face, her hand moving to close the door.

  It’s too late.

  Phoenix runs ahead of me, pushes the door wider as he passes, ducking under the maid’s arm.

  I follow and suddenly we’re inside.

  A bodyguard emerges into the hallway clearly surprised to see Peyton, who swings the bat into his stomach. It’s brutal, even watching it from a distance. The bodyguard goes down and I hear Peyton call out. “Where is she?” in the room beyond.

  I almost miss the second bodyguard, a massive guy who’s running at my side from somewhere to the right.

  I shift my weight and drive down and upwards, checking him hard into a small alcove. He collides with a pedestal, a vase falling to shatter on the floor.

  I don’t know why, but Phoenix swings for the matching vase on the other side of the room, pieces of porcelain spraying out around him.

  So much for the element of surprise.

  We come into a large room, open at the back where the pool is. I notice a pink, inflatable flamingo in the water, and can’t get over how at odds it seems with everything else.

  Linnea is at the table, Peyton on top of another bodyguard, holding him down, while Phoenix rushes to the second standing behind her, dropping the bat and collecting the poor bastard around the knees, lifting him high into the air before dropping him into the middle of the table with a thud.

  Rex, on the other side of the table, stands back with enough force to knock his chair over, the pretty boy beside him doing likewise, the two of them looking like some strange comedy duo.

  Linnea’s already up, rushing to my side. I tuck her under my arm. “Let’s get you out of here,” I say, nodding to the others.

  “You think you can just take her?” says Rex, anger ringing clear in his voice.

  I point my stick at him. “That’s rich coming from you, asshole. Just let us leave. No one has to get hurt.”

  Pretty Boy looks like he wants to pounce, but he’s soft as butter. He won’t make a move. I’m more concerned about the two we left in the front of the house, but Phoenix is on it, bat swinging around in readiness. “Let’s move.”

  The bodyguard Peyton has pinned to the floor is squirming. “You’re dead, all of you.”

  Peyton laughs, adding more pressure to the spot between his shoulder blades. “So people keep telling us, yet here we are.”

  I turn and start running with Linnea for the front of the house, Phoenix falling in behind us. There’s a grunt as Peyton lifts off the goon he was pinning down, running full tilt for our position. “Go!” he shouts.

  The four of us make it to the front door, the two bodyguards in the front still on the floor.

  A voice booms, and I know it’s Rex yelling out some ‘You’ll pay!’ supervillain nonsense. He’s angry, all right. Screw him.

  We’re halfway across the road when the first shot rings out. It’s close enough for me to shove Linnea in front of me, one hand pressing her head down as I look back.

  The bodyguard Peyton was pinning down is standing on the front steps, pistol raised. He lets another shot off, this one wide. I hear Rex shouting about something to stop, not to hit Linnea, but a final shot shatters the driver-side window of the Beemer.

  I open the door and pull it wide, pushing Linnea in first, the other two already sliding across the back seat.

  I jump into the driver’s seat, ass in a pool of safety glass, and slot the key home. I reach for the door handle and slam it closed, the glass that was left in the window frame tinkling to the road.

  I turn the key and select first, drop the clutch and take off, fish-tailing away

  The bodyguard who fired at us appears in the rear-view, lifts the pistol.

  “Get down!” I shout, but the shot never comes.

  “I thought you said they weren’t armed,” shouts Phoenix.

  I shake my head and take the corner late, the back of the car swinging out. “Sorry.”

  I finally get a chance to look across to Linnea. She’s white as a sheet but otherwise unharmed. “You okay?” I ask.

  She nods, turning to the others. “Thank you, all of you.”

  At that, the two of them do their best to look casual, like saving kidnap victims is a daily occurrence.

  “It was nothing,” shrugs Phoenix. “Anything for a lady.”

  “I’m no lady,” laughs Linnea, though it’s unsteady. “But thank you. I mean it.”

  Peyton just nods and places the bat he’s holding down. “Can’t say I woke up this morning expecting that.”

  I can still hear Rex yelling in my head. I’m surprised he let her go so easily, not that he had much of a choice. I’d like to think this would be the end of it, but I saw the way he looked at us. That was a man who is not used to losing—at anything. A creature of the most dangerous kind.

  *

  We arrive back at the house. I park the Beemer around back and meet the others inside. I’ve already arranged for extra security, detailed them on what’s happening. Unless Rex decides to send an army, we should be fine.

  Soon the others have headed off to their respective soulmates, no doubt to speak of their exploits. I don’t think either of them actually informed their better halves what they were doing. They’ll probably wind up with a kick to the ass instead.

  I sit with Linnea in the kitchen. She’s eating a BLT Phoenix prepared, can barely hold the sandwich with two hands.

  “You should stay here,” I tell her. “It’s not safe to go back to your place. We can call your mom, let her know what’s going on.”

  “I can’t impose on you guys like that.”

  I laugh, looking around. “The place is big enough for a hundred people. You’ll be fine. I insist.”

  “You do, do you?”

  I nod. “Afraid so.”

  She places the sandwich down. “What if I try and leave?”

  “I’ll have to tie you up.”

  “You make it sound worthwhile.”

  I let her eat, smiling.

  She agrees with some reluctance, not wanting Rex to even marginally control her life but seeing no hardship about staying here with me.

  I’m looking forward to it, but when we get ready for bed, she doesn’t try to initiate sex like I expect, happy instead to lie there and cuddle.

  I’m not complaining. I pull her close, tuck a strand of hair back behind her ear that had fallen in front of her face.

  Her legs are tangled with mine below the covers, the hot length of her body comforting in a way that’s more than sexual, more than anything I’ve experienced.

  We’ve got our head on the same pillow, barely an inch apart. “What was it like?” she asks. “Growing up as a King?”

  I take a moment to consider my response. “If you’re asking did I feel pressure to perform, to live up to the fa
mily name, of course, but it’s more than that.”

  “It’s what?”

  “My father was there, he was around us, but he was never really there there, you know?

  “I understand, but my father wasn’t a legend like yours.”

  “That’s just it. Sports were everything. It’s hard to let that competitiveness not poison your entire life. Everything becomes win or lose. It has taken me a long time to realize there’s black and white in there, but the gray area between them is where life, true life, is lived.”

  She whistles. “Wow, that’s deep.”

  “If we’re comparing fathers, I have a feeling you’ll chalk up the win.”

  “I never really knew him…as a father. Getting away was the best thing my mother ever did, for both of us, but it came at a cost. All his money and influence, that went by the wayside.”

  “How the hell did she afford the Academy?”

  “Scholarship,” she replies, trying not to look smug but failing miserably.

  “I didn’t think Crestfall offered scholarships.”

  “Not officially,” she smiles, tugging me closer, hands around my neck. “But for exceptional players…”

  I roll my eyes. “I suppose I can let that slide.”

  “If…?”

  “If you kiss me.”

  She leans forward and wets her lips. “Deal.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  LINNEA

  I wake up a little after sunrise. The blinds are down but even in the semi-light Nolan looks angelic—as much as an angel can inked up and cut to perfection.

  And he’s all yours, I think to myself.

  It’s an unusual concept. I’ve never had any kind of lasting relationship before. I’m sure if you dig deeper there’s a whole lot of psychological scarring that probably makes me hate all men ra-ra-ra, but Nolan is different. I never expected to fall for him so hard.

  But that sudden squirt of dopamine is undercut by what went down yesterday with my father. It’s destroying the moment, tugging me out of the happiness I so need, and damn well deserve, right now.

  ‘Take action,’ I hear my mother say.

  She’s right. I’ve got to get out on the front foot here.

  I climb out of bed and dress, silently pad my way downstairs and open one of the French doors leading to the pool outside, the water shimmery and golden from the rising sun.