The King (The Original Sinners: White Years, #2)(35)



“When we were lovers.”

“Kingsley, be serious.”

“I mean it. You were so alone,” Kingsley said. “I’ve never met anyone more alone than you were back then. Everyone was afraid of you. No one ever talked to you. They treated you like a leper. You wanted them to.”

“You didn’t.”

“I was scared. But I loved you more than I feared you. I had to know you. And that night in the hallway when you said you wondered why God had made you the way you are, you wondered what the reason was…”

“Je suis la raison,” S?ren repeated. “That’s what you said to me.”

“I am the reason,” Kingsley whispered.

S?ren nodded.

“That was it,” Kingsley said. “That night I felt like God put me on earth to show you why he created you like He did. You needed me as much as I needed you.”

“I did. Until you, I thought I was the only one who wanted the things I wanted.”

“You never hurt me. Do you know that? Even when you hurt me you never hurt me. I loved it. It wasn’t until you stopped that I felt the pain.”

“It hurt me, too.” S?ren ran his fingers through Kingsley’s hair. Eleven years since their last night together, and yet S?ren still knew exactly how to touch him in the way he most needed. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have married Marie-Laure. I thought I was solving all our problems. It was arrogant and foolish, and I realize that now.”

“It was f*cking stupid is what it was,” Kingsley said. “Your Virgin Queen was right. You are an idiot.”

S?ren dropped his hand into the water and splashed Kingsley in the face in punishment.

“Good to know you’re still as much a bastard as always,” Kingsley said, grabbing the towel and swiping his face with it.

Kingsley tossed the towel on the f loor and looked up again.

“I don’t know what to do,” Kingsley said, watching the light dance once more on the ceiling. It danced faster now as he and S?ren set the water moving.

“Now? Tomorrow? Forever?”

“With my life. I don’t have to work. You saw to that. I don’t know what to do with myself. I make enemies as a hobby. I drink to kill time. I f*ck to forget.”

“I can’t tell you what to do with your life,” S?ren said. “That’s between you and God. But first you have to know that you do want to live. Once you’re certain you want to live, you’ll find your reason for living.”

“I don’t know if I want to live. I look at the future, and I see nothing. It’s all black. I have no dreams, no visions, no hope. And you don’t even want me anymore like you used to.”

“If that beautiful, proud Kingsley Boissonneault who chased me down the hall and watched me sleep and confessed he thought of me all the time and yelled at me for breaking the rules of a game without rules… If he walked into this room right now, then I would be tempted to break my vows. That boy was a king, which is why I took so much pleasure in making him kneel. But this self-pitying, self-loathing, selfdestructive Kingsley Edge in front of me? There’s no honor in breaking someone already broken. There’s no fun in it, either.”

“I want to be him again. But I can’t. He’s gone, he’s dead. I’ve done too much. I’ve seen too much.” He closed his eyes and raised his hands, wanting to push away the visions in his mind—the crimes, the corpses, the missions into war zones. He’d taken a wrong turn somewhere and found himself wandering the back alleys of hell.

“You can be a new man, Kingsley. If he’s dead, then he’s dead. But you don’t have to live the rest of your life walking around inside his corpse. You can have a new life.”

“It’s so easy for you to say and so hard for me to do.”

“It’s not hard at all. You only have to want it. You have to want the life where you’re doing what God created you to do. If the one time you felt like you were fulfilling your destiny was by helping me, then go find the others like us and help them, too.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. You’re one of the most intelligent men on this earth. You can figure it out.”

“I don’t even know where to start on a new life.”

“Do you truly want one? Do you want to give up all this selfdestructive foolishness and do something worthwhile? Do you want to be a new man?”

Kingsley paused and thought about the question. It seemed too good to be true. It sounded like a magic trick. Voila. New man. New life. But he wanted that magic even if it was an illusion. What he wouldn’t give to feel that way again, feel the way he felt when he and S?ren had been lovers, when his mere existence gave S?ren reason for hope. When S?ren’s existence gave him hope.

“Oui.” Kingsley met S?ren’s eyes. “I want it. What do I do?”

“You die and then you’re reborn. New life.”

Kingsley rolled his eyes.

“I die? That’s going to take some doing. I’ve been trying to die for ten years now. No luck.”

“With this I can help.”

“How? Are you going to kill me?”

“Yes.” S?ren grasped Kingsley by the front of his shirt and dragged him to his feet.

“Life.” S?ren looked straight and deep into Kingsley’s eyes.

Tiffany Reisz's Books