KING(65)

He wanted me.

Whoever that was.

And I wanted him.

As crazy as that was.

At least for the night, I wasn’t going to think about what the girl with the memories would do, the girl who I tried to please on a daily basis. I was going to be selfish, and I was only going to think about what I wanted.

Who I wanted.

I’d made the decision to live.





Chapter Twenty




Doe


When we pulled up to the house, I didn’t expect to see a party in full swing. Bikes lined the street, blocking our entrance to the property. King drove past them and turned onto another small dirt path I hadn’t noticed before that led us right up to the garage.

King parked the bike and cut the engine. I took my helmet off and passed it to him so he could set it on the seat.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“It seems my hospitality is being taken advantage of,” he muttered. King dragged me into the house by my hand and up the stairs to the main floor. In the living room, we passed a bunch of bikers standing around, watching an older, dark-skinned woman bounce up and down naked on the lap of a boy who looked younger than me, his pants around his feet. The patch on his vest read PROSPECT. His face was turned up to the ceiling, his eyes hooded in ecstasy, his mouth partially open.

“King!” Bear shouted, motioning to him. “Come over here, and watch this. Billy’s just popped his cherry.”

“What the f*ck, Bear! What is all this?” King growled. His fist was clenched at his side, and the hand that held mine grew tighter and tighter. I could feel his pulse racing in his wrist.

Bear smiled and held out his arms. “Dude, it’s a party. It’s Saturday. We used to throw ten of these in a seven day week. Didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Don’t go anywhere. I’m coming back down. You and I need to talk.” King pointed at Bear then dragged me upstairs to his room.

“I need you to stay in here while I talk to Bear. I’ll be right back.” For once, he wasn’t barking orders at me. It sounded more like a plea. “Close the door. Keep it locked.”

“Okay,” I said, stepping into the room and shutting the door. It was the first time he’d told me to do something that I didn’t feel the overwhelming need to argue with him.

Three hours later, there was still no sign of King, and the music seemed to be getting louder and louder. I’d read for a bit, clicked through some channels, and done my best to distract myself, but my curiosity was getting the best of me.

I didn’t want to disobey him, but maybe, I could at least change locations. I figured going into the tattoo studio in the next room wouldn’t be disobeying his orders too much. Besides? King’s sketchbook was in there, and it could help occupy me until he came back.

I crept out of the room. The party downstairs still raged although none of the party-goers had made their way upstairs like last time. I pushed open the door and stepped inside.

I wasn’t prepared for what I found.

My jaw fell to the floor along with my heart and any faith I had in King and his promises. My heart disintegrated in my chest.

It was dark in the room except for the neon lights beating in time with the bass of the Nine Inch Nails song playing on the iPod dock. King was perched on his chair with his eyes closed, a joint at his lips. His jeans were down around his ankles. A topless brunette was down on her knees in front of him, reaching for the waistband of his boxers.

“What the f*ck,” I gasped. I was going to be sick. The * was just toying with me the entire time. He hadn’t meant a word. Maybe, that was the revenge he’d been wanting since Nikki stole from him. Maybe, that was his game the entire time and now that I was humiliated my debt had officially been paid.

King’s eyes opened suddenly, and I half-expected an apology for walking in and catching him in the act. At least, I expected an attempt at pulling up his pants. But it was my fault for thinking that way. Somewhere between the tattoos, the sandwiches on the dock, Grace’s house, and the carnival, I’d forgotten who I was dealing with.

This was the man who held me against my will. Handcuffed me to his bed. Threatened my life.

Killed his own mother.

He was the f*cking devil himself. And all it took was a slutty brunette on her knees to remind me of that.

“Get out,” he barked. He took a long drag from the joint, then tugged on the brunette’s hair, tipping her head back. He leaned over until his lips were almost touching hers and made a show of blowing the smoke directly into her mouth.