KING(17)

I twisted a lock of her white-blonde hair in my fingers. Over and over again, I reminded myself that the girl was a thief and a whore and that I had every right to take payment for what she stole from me and then some.

I owned this bitch.

She was mine to take.

Only as much as I wanted to roll on top of her and sink deep down inside, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

There was more to this girl’s story than what was obvious on the outside. Her friend was obviously a junkie with her humungous pupils and shiny red nose. This girl didn’t act like a junkie, but her clothes and rail thin frame had me thinking that dope could be the only reason she’d be hanging around with Bear and his crew.

I was going to pry her story from her when she woke up. Then I was going to decide what my plans were for her which would preferably consist of naked and on her knees.

She let out a deep sigh, and I stilled, fearing she might wake before I had the chance to get out of bed, but oddly enough her entire body relaxed back into me. Her ass pressed against my straining erection.

I stifled a groan.

Only my boxers and her panties separated us. I wanted to rock against her, alleviate the pressure building in my balls, but I stopped myself and just as quickly as I’d gotten into bed, I got back out.

I picked my jeans up from the floor. Before I left the room I glanced back at the girl sleeping in my bed. The moonlight shone through the window making her blonde hair appear even lighter, her skin even paler.

More haunted.

I didn’t know whether I wanted to kill her or f*ck her.

Maybe both, but one thing was for sure.

One way or another, I was going to make her scream.

I was finally starting to feel like my old self again.





Chapter Six




Doe


I awoke groggy and confused. My skull felt like it was going to crack open against the pressure of my aching head. The mattress underneath me was soft, the sheets cool against my skin. A much better alternative to the park benches or pavement where I usually made my bed.

I stretched out my legs one by one, then raised my arms to do the same. Except my left arm wouldn’t cooperate, it was stuck. My eyes sprang open when I heard a rattling. My wrist was bound to the headboard.

By handcuffs.

Fuck.

I sat up quickly and glanced around in a panic. Sharp scratching pain assaulted the side of my head when my shoulder brushed my ear. Feeling around, I realized my left ear had been covered in some sort of bandage. Then, I remembered the events of the night before.

I’d been shot.

Nikki had shot me.

I was in the same room as the previous night, but in the light of morning the details that the darkness had hid were now on full display. At the foot of the bed a wooden dresser that was splintering at the corners sat below a huge flat screen TV. A bi-fold closet took up the entire wall on the right side. The room was only large enough to fit one nightstand beside the bed. It wasn’t huge, but it was comfortable with a plush navy blue comforter and simple wrought iron headboard—the one I was cuffed too.

Where are my clothes?

I was completely naked from the waist up, but thankfully, my panties remained.

I had to get the f*ck out of here.

My stomach twisted. I let out an agonized moan and clenched my hands over my belly. The door opened, and the man from the night before appeared.

They call me King

He stepped into the room like he was stepping out of the gates of hell and onto earth where the very presence of us mere mortals pissed him off. He held my gaze with a steady glare that shook me to my very core.

“Name,” he demanded, closing the door behind him, stopping at foot of the bed. He folded his muscular arms over his chest. On the right side of his neck a vein pulsed beneath the ink of his tattoos.

His eyes darted down to my chest and I crossed my free arm over my breasts the best I could to cover myself.

“What’s it to you?” I quipped. King wore the same dark clothes as the night before, same belts around his forearms. The only difference was the addition of a dark grey skullcap. In the light of day I noticed that the tattoos I’d caught a glimpse of the night before were very intricate. If you took the scary out of the equation, King was drop dead gorgeous. His eyes were so dark green they almost looked black. His lips were full and slightly pink.

“I figured we might start with your f*cking name and then move on to you telling me where the f*ck that bitch went with my money.” He seethed.