The Elite Kings Boxset Vol. II

by Amo Jones

  Nate shuffles in the chair beside me, and I look directly at him, ignoring Madison asking Brantley and Bishop something. Nate looks at me, pinning me with a glare, and then goes back to Brantley. “I didn’t know he was going to be here.”

  “Who?” Madison asks, obviously annoyed with Bishop again. Probably because he’s still keeping secrets from her. Cue major eye roll.

  Nate licks his lip and looks directly at me. “My dad.”

  “Shit.” I sink back against the chair. “That was your dad?”

  Nate’s jaw flexes from obvious frustration. Brantley is right. We shouldn’t have brought Micaela here tonight. I don’t know anything about Nate’s dad, but that’s because Nate and I have never spoken about him. I figured he was just non-existent. It would have explained why Nate seemed to have so many issues.

  “Yeah, it’s complicated, so Madison, before you hound me for answers, know that I’m not Bishop and I’m not telling you shit.”

  Madison sucks in a breath. “Nate! I wouldn’t!”

  “Hey!” I grab Nate’s hand again, and I half expect him to shove me away, but he doesn’t. His eyes come to mine, and for a second, I see a flash of vulnerability wash over him, but then it’s gone, and the cold wall of ice he keeps is back up again. “Don’t snap at her.”

  He leans his head back against the chair, his eyes going to the sky. Micaela starts twisting in his arms and I take her, rocking her softly in my arms.

  “So what does this mean?” I ask. “I’m not asking to be nosey or because I feel like I’m owed an explanation. I’m asking because I would like no one to die tonight.” I know well and truly how The Kings operate, but I’ve not seen Hector and his generation—aka—top dogs and how they work, and that somewhat frightens the shit out of me.

  Nate shakes his head. “It means after dinner, Micaela is going home with Mom and Joe.”

  “Agreed.” I nod, catching Brantley who is watching Nate and me.

  “Are you two finally together?”

  Nate rolls his eyes. “Does it matter, motherfucker?”

  Brantley grins, his eyes darkening. “Not really.”

  “—Anyway!” Madison interferes. “What does this mean? How come no one told me about your dad? Why is no one telling me anything.”

  “Madz?” I squeeze her hand. “That isn’t your place to know.”

  “Thank you!” Bishop yells, and then stands from his chair, storming back inside.

  “Thanks, Tillie…”

  I sigh. “You know I don’t mean it like that, but it’s just you know. You can see that he’s trying here, but he’s about to take Hector’s crown, Madison. There are some things that you can’t know.”

  Her eyes fall to her hands. “I know. It’s what I’m scared of.”

  I mentally add a note to have a girl talk to see what’s going on between the two of them.

  “Dinner’s ready!” Scarlet says from the doorway, and I freeze when I see her. God, she’s so stunning. Wearing a bright red gown that sticks to her where it should and falls where it can’t. Her deep red face mask outlines and hides her features. She’s beautiful.

  We all make our way into the kitchen where a table big enough to feed over fifty people sits. It’s lined with candles and plates filled with the finest food. Actually, the whole room has candles. Some against the walls, on mantles and hanging from a chandelier above our heads.

  Nate pulls out my chair and brings a highchair out for Micaela, leaning it back so she can be more relaxed. At least one of us will be. I take a seat. Madison is beside me with Bishop on the other side of her and Hector is at the head of the table beside Bishop. Scarlet is on the other side of the table, with Elena beside her and Joseph next to Elena. On the other side of Hector is Nate’s dad, who I have been purposely avoiding, and then there’s a couple of people I have not met yet on that side with their wives. On our side is our generation of Kings, with Brantley right beside Nate and then Cash and so on.

  “Tillie,” Hector says, catching me off guard.

  “Yes?” I answer, looking directly at him as two maids come out to line the table with more food.

  “I do hope you’ll stay after dinner, for the ball.”

  “We will,” Nate answers for me, and then adds, “But Mom and Joe will be taking Micaela home.”

  “Of course,” Hector says, and then gestures to the food. “Dig in.”

  Dinner goes off without a hiccup, but you can feel the awkwardness throughout the night. I’m on my third glass of champagne when my eyes finally go to Nate’s dad.

  He’s already watching me. I almost drop my fork. Something about him seems familiar, but not enough to catch a clear recollection.

  His mask is the same as Nate’s almost, and it’s eerie how similar they already seem.

  I quickly divert my gaze by drinking a large gulp of champagne. Placing it back on the table, Nate slides it away from me. I almost want to smack him, until he leans across and his lips brush my ear in a way that has my core clenching.

  “I need you snappy tonight, baby. No more champagne.”

  He’s right. I was being reckless. I pat my mouth dry with a napkin, slightly pushing my plate away. Micaela starts tossing and turning in her chair, so I turn to take her out, pulling the hem of my short strapless dress down.

  “She’s beautiful, son.” I freeze at the unfamiliar voice, knowing there’s only one person that can be. Squeezing Micaela’s high chair, I think over my options. If I have her in my arms, I can’t contain Nate. Not that I think I can, but I have slowly come to realize the effect I have on him at times.

  Turning my head to look over my shoulder slightly, my eyes go straight to Elena who is already watching me. She stands from her chair and saunters fashionably toward me.

  “Can you take her home?” I ask through a whisper to Elena.

  She nods. “Of course, sweetheart. I was hoping you would ask.”

  I can hear Nate’s voice behind me, and warning bells start ringing.

  “Would you like her to sleep with me tonight or in your room?”

  “Yours might be better because I’m not sure about tonight.”

  Elena nods, and then her fingers wrap around my chin and she tilts my face to hers. “Be very careful tonight, Tillie. Something isn’t right in the air.”

  I gulp, already heeding the warnings my own gut is sending off. “I will.”

  She takes Micaela and I press my lips to her soft little head, inhaling her scent. I would do anything to be able to smell her forever. To be able to take her away from this world and give her a normal life.

  Nate stands too and gives Micaela a kiss, and then thanks his mom for taking her before taking his place back at the table. I’m still watching Elena leave, longing in my heart. I wish Nate and I could go home with her and cuddle. Just us three. I make time for that in my head, maybe tomorrow we can have our first family day.

  Nate’s fingers come to mine and he gently brings me back down onto my chair. “This is Tillie.”

  I slowly take a seat, my heart somewhat calm now that Micaela isn’t here. I feel my vulnerability leave with Micaela’s departure and invisible war paint smear over my cheeks.

  “I know,” Nate’s father says, his eyes remaining on mine.

  “And how do you know this?” Nate asks, shooting back his drink.

  Hector interrupts when he clears his throat. “Let’s head to the next room.”

  We all collect our belongings and I watch as Madison glares at Bishop again, storming off outside. I get that she’s always angry at him over things that he can’t change, but honestly, even I’m getting annoyed with it.

  We head into a boudoir tent that has been set up behind the pool.

  “What is tonight about?” I ask Nate, leaning into him more as we make our way toward the exotic looking set-up. The tips are stretched high, reaching for the dark sky. There are lights that dangle around the edges and as we get closer, the music becomes more profound and the guards standing out f
ront become larger.

  Nate clears his throat, his arm draping over my shoulder. “We don’t know. This is new.”

  “What is new?” I mumble, worried about where tonight may take us.

  “This whole fucking thing,” he grinds out through a whisper, his hand touching my lower back to lead me into the tent. Waiters are walking around balancing trays on their hands, some with champagne flutes with pink cotton candy sitting inside, and some with small inimitable appetizers. I snatch a glass and take a sip.

  Nate glares at me. “What’d I say before.”

  I wave him off. “I feel like I might need this, and I’m not a light-weight so chill.”

  He’s still glaring at me when Bishop appears with Brantley and Eli.

  “Where’s Madison?” Nate asks Bishop, and you don’t have to be a Nate whisperer to know he’s not impressed with whatever is going on between the two love birds.

  “Gone,” is all Bishop says, and then his eyes come to mine. It’s the first time I notice his mask. Black with silver fangs where Nate’s are bone. “She won’t be back.”

  I shrug. I’ll talk with her tomorrow to see what’s really going on between the two of them. If it’s still just the secrets thing, I think I’ll be more pissed than before. And I’m not even sure with who.

  “Where’d all these people come from?” I ask Bishop since this is his parents’ house.

  He looks around the room. “They’re associates of The Kings. Senators, even the fucking President’s people are here somewhere. I’ve seen one or two people from The Circle too.” His jaw clenches, his attention going solely to Nate. “Which is what’s confusing the fuck out of me. Why would he invite them all here if he was going to kill Gabriel?”

  I choke on my drink, my hand clenching around my throat. “I’m sorry, but what and who?”

  “Gabrielle is my dad,” Nate says to me and then answers Bishop. “Because he doesn’t want to kill him. He has already made that clear. But why all of this… tonight?”

  Brantley’s phone rings. He looks down at the screen and then curses, sliding it unlocked. “Fuck, what?”

  Silence.

  “No. Leave it alone, Bailey.”

  I almost forgot about the troubled little teen. I’ll need to make some time to visit her.

  I perk my eyebrow at Brantley and he flips me off. Because after all, this is my fault. I snort, drinking the rest of my champagne. The lights dim and people quiet down as Hector takes the center of the makeshift stage. A single spotlight beams on him as he flips up the collar of his suit, a smirk on his mouth.

  “Thank you all for attending this very last-minute event tonight.” He pauses, and I feel Nate’s fingers tighten around my hip. We’re all watching and waiting for the ball to drop. Hector Hayes doesn’t do things in halves. There’s a reason why we’re all standing here right now. Someone is either going to die or fall. “I bet you’re all wondering why I called this meet.” Then his eyes come to me. “I want you all to meet Tillie. She’s accompanied here by Nate Riverside-Malum…” He pauses, and then his grin deepens farther. “She is a Stuprum. The only living Stuprum left—aside from her very own daughter.”

  “Motherfucker.” Nate pulls me closer into him.

  The crowd gasps and my eyes catch a figure near the side of the stage. Khales stands in her full black gown, a scowl on her face as she glares at me. I thought everyone knew who I was, but why is Hector making such a scene about it.

  Hector lifts his drink. “No pressure. I just wanted to throw this party for her, so everyone knew who she was.”

  Nate grabs my hand and starts hauling me toward the exit with a few boys following closely behind us.

  “What the hell, Nate!” I yell once the cool outside air crashes over my face. “Why are you dragging me out?” He doesn’t stop until we’re outside the front of the house and the young valet boy scatters off to retrieve his car.

  “I can’t believe he fucking did that. I don’t know about him. That’s not the fuck…” Bishop yanks the mask off his face, throwing it across the ground. I take that as my cue to finally be able to remove mine, so I do.

  “Why? What’s wrong with him saying something?”

  Brantley is quiet beside Bishop. Nate is pacing back and forth like a caged lion. I look to Brantley. “Why?”

  He seems to think over what he’s going to say, that same blank look on his face. “Because now that it’s common knowledge of you being alive as a Stuprum, remember that no one knew about Peyton, even before we found out she wasn’t a biological daughter, you will be hunted, chased, and caged until you are able to claim your given birthright.”

  I fling my hands in the air. “I don’t want to run this fucking island!”

  Tillie

  “No,” I shake my head. Now my heart is slamming against my chest and sweat is trickling down my face. “This is the twenty-first century! You guys cannot walk around in your own little community and think that what you do is okay!”

  Nate snatches the keys off the young boy, and it’s then that my eyes come to his. I recognize the empty pits that summon me with a simple glare. I exhale, just as Nate opens the passenger door. “You’re a Lost Boy.”

  Nate shoves me in the car, slamming the door and then getting into the driver’s seat. He skids out of the driveway, the burned rubber flying up with the smoke.

  “Nate! Slow down.”

  He doesn’t answer, his jaw is working on overtime as his eyes stay on the road.

  “Nate!”

  He drops down to third and floors it forward until we’re pulling into our house. He gets out of the car, runs up the stairs to the front door and points to the pool house. “Get in the room, lock the door, and don’t open it unless it’s me, my mom, or Joseph.”

  “Okay,” I nod, and then quickly jog to the pool house. I know when to question him and when not to. Right now is not the time.

  Five minutes pass and I’ve already changed out of my dress and into some loose grey sweatpants and a white tank when there’s a knock on the door. I peek through the blinds and see it’s Nate carrying Micaela before quickly unlocking the door and letting him in.

  She’s asleep, cradled in his arms. He goes straight for the crib and gently places her inside. Hitting on the main light switch, I wait for him to say something. Anything.

  He takes his mask off and removes his bow tie. “Tomorrow. We’re leaving.”

  “Leaving to where?” I ask, afraid of the next thing he’s going to say.

  “Leaving this shit. I can’t keep you and her safe if we stay in New York. Shit has changed.”

  I sigh, taking a seat on the bed. “Nate, I’ll just say no…”

  He laughs sardonically. “You can’t say no, Tillie. You don’t have an option.”

  “Well, we can’t run!” I shout, exhausted. “I refuse to give her that life.”

  His eyes go to the crib. “You have no idea the type of shit that this world does, Tillie. Bishop has always pussyfooted around Madison when it comes down to it, giving her half-truths.” His eyes come to mine, and it’s the first time I have ever seen fear. It’s there, roaring to the surface in the rawest form known to mankind. It hurts that it’s Nate emanating it. “I won’t lie to you. I won’t hide shit from you, mainly because I know you can handle it and also because that’s just not me. So I’ll tell you now, Tillie, they would hurt Micaela. They would drown her like they have all the others.”

  Unable to have enough time to wrap my head around the cruel words he just spoke, I say the first thing that pops into my head. “But she’s not a swan, why would they hurt her?”

  He shakes his head. “You don’t get it. They would do that to get to you, and I can’t have that.”

  I exhale, standing to peek down at her sleeping with the angels. Her chest rises and falls, her beautiful long lashes fanning out against her cheeks. “I don’t think we should run. I think we should sleep and think about it tomorrow. Your mom, Hector even, I feel like there’s mo
re to why he did this tonight. Not just to ‘out’ me. There’s another reason. A reason why your dad was there too, Nate. You’re being irrational.”

  I make my way toward where he’s sitting on the bed, stepping between his legs. My hands come to his face, tilting it up to look at me. He looks so vulnerable like this, with me here and him there. It gives me a sense of power. The same reaction I felt earlier tonight washes back over me in a second wave, only this time I’m swimming in lust.

  “I want to make you feel better,” I whisper, tracing my finger over his lip. Leaning down, I kiss him softly. I stand back up, removing my shirt and throwing it across the room. “Let me make you feel better.” I watch as his gaze fades from worried, to feral, they drop down from my face to my breasts.

  He doesn’t touch me, he stays where he is and growls. “Remove the pants.”

  I abide, my thumbs hooking inside the waistband of my panties to wriggle them down. I stand naked in front of him, waiting, wanting, needing him to touch me. Touch me in ways he has never touched me before. I reach for the button of his shirt and flick them off, his bare chest sprawling out in front of me. Tracing my fingers over the two large wings across his chest, I want to ask him what they mean, but I’m too afraid it will break the mood, so my hands come up to his shoulders where I push his shirt down his taut arms.

  His eyes come up to mine, his hands ruffling through his hair. “Nothing can happen to you or Micaela, Tillie.”

  “Shhhh.” I press my index finger against his lip. “Nothing is going to happen.” I go to straddle his hips, but his lips come to my apex. He blows air against my clit and then presses kisses. My fingers dig into his hair, my head tilting back as a moan leaves me. He flicks his tongue inside of me and then licks up again, his hands coming to my ass cheeks. Finally, unable to contain it, I straddle his waist and crawl up his body.

  He chuckles darkly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he licks his bottom lip, the ball of his tongue ring catching the soft glint of the bathroom light. “You think you’re fucking slick sitting on my dick like that, huh?”