Destructive King Read online

  I nearly dropped my phone onto the cement. It was a picture of me, all right.

  And the tweet beneath it read. “Back from Italy, rumor has it she was sent away because she was pregnant… but don’t believe our word for it, ask the guy she tried to hook up with, none other than Ash Abandonato. I’ll be your daddy.”

  My hands shook as I read the tweet over and over again; more and more people crowded around me until I couldn’t breathe.

  “Annie!” Izzy’s voice was the only clear thing I could focus on, and then Serena started yelling at people to move before she stabbed them.

  If they were on this side of campus.

  They’d seen it and were pulling in the troops.

  Which meant rumors were spreading like… well, apparently my slutty legs.

  I fell to my knees on the concrete, phone still in the palm of my hand as the two girls circled me and protected me from the rest of the students.

  “Breathe.” Izzy rubbed my back. “It’s going to be okay. We had Ash call Sergio; he hacked the system and deleted the tweet; it’s already gone.”

  “The damage is already done,” I whispered hoarsely. “Who would say that about me? I’m not even… I haven’t even…” I couldn’t get the words out or the reason why they hurt so much in the first place.

  Like someone knew the truth.

  And wanted to air out the dirty laundry.

  Who would be so cruel? And how did they know where to hit me the hardest? The worst part was that I had slept with him.

  And I’d wanted that moment for just me.

  Between us.

  Because it was already so damn hard sharing it with her ghost.

  “You’re a whore just like your mother!” Daddy spat out the word whore so often now I responded better to it than my own name. “You were supposed to be a boy, you know that?” He took another swig of beer. “She just had to get pregnant with a girl and ruin all my fucking plans!” He threw the beer bottle at my feet then grabbed my wrist, squeezing it so hard that I heard a crunch, felt blinding pain as I swayed toward him. “Wish you would have never been born, worst idea I’d had—trying to fight my way to the top. Worthless…” At my scream, he released me.

  Mama ran toward me only to be stopped by Daddy. “Leave her alone to think about what she did—what you both did.”

  “Stop this!” Mama whimpered. “I only did what you asked me to do.”

  “You bitch!” Daddy’s hand came flying, slapping mama in the face so hard that Mama fell to the ground. “I asked you to get pregnant with the next heir, and you gave me a fucking girl!”

  “I can’t control—”

  “You should have figured out a way! Or at least tried again!”

  “Having a child nearly killed me the first time,” Mama whispered, cupping her cheek.

  Daddy just snarled out another foul curse. “Good, maybe this time you’ll die.”

  It was the last fight they had before Hell’s fury broke loose over us. Before I was covered in blood that wasn’t mine. Before strange men came barging into my house, guns blazing.

  I held my brown bear close to my chest as screams filled the air. And then I prayed they’d take me too as I closed my eyes and wished for it all to go away.

  To finally be free.

  “Hey, don’t pass out on us yet,” Serena whispered in my ear. “Can you get up?”

  I nodded slowly as a hush fell over the group of students circling me, ready to throw insults at me like perfectly sharpened arrows.

  I’d always been on the outside looking in.

  Only because the inside was deadly, and once you were in—there was no escape, was there?

  I saw his combat boots first, black, most likely designer, as he stepped forward into the circle.

  A tear slid down my cheek as I looked up into Ash’s cold eyes. I couldn’t tear my gaze from his, was afraid if I did, he’d laugh at me, or maybe worse.

  This was, after all, his Kingdom. His world.

  The students? His loyal subjects.

  Me? A mere slave.

  He crouched down on his haunches, his chiseled face completely unreadable, full lips pressed together while whiskey-colored hair tousled across his forehead. Why were the pretty ones always the most angry?

  “What did I say about crying?” he asked, but before I could answer, he reached across the space between us and used his thumb to wipe away the tears still rolling down my cheeks. He then used that same hand to grip my chin and force me to look at him. “Ignore them.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “I said ignore them,” he whispered. “Your tears are worth more than all of their lives combined.” He moved his hand, and then he was reaching for my waist, pulling me to my feet.

  I was so shocked he was actually helping that I was light-headed as he intertwined his fingers with mine. The crowd parted. People refused to look directly at Ash and me, choosing to look down at their phones and furiously text or pretend that they weren’t bullying and walk off.

  My palm was sweaty against his. He squeezed my hand tight like he was taking possession, and I was petrified that he was seconds away from shoving me up against one of the old building’s brick walls and threatening me again.

  When we reached the science building, I tried to pull away, but he just gripped my hand tighter as people watched in fascination at us, probably trying to figure out why the campus King had an orphan dangling off his arm.

  He opened the door to the building pulling me in after him, and then continued walking at a purposeful pace until we reached Human Anatomy.

  The hall was filled with around a hundred and fifty students as he brought me directly to the front and stood.

  The professor glanced up, paled, and then grabbed his empty coffee cup and left out the side door; the click of it shutting was equal to a gunshot as everyone froze and stared at Ash.

  “Human Anatomy and Physiology.” Ash dropped my hand and leaned against the desk while I watched in horror as every single student stared at us. I was paralyzed with fear of what he would do, fear of what they would do, I didn’t know if I could sit down in a chair or if I should stay up there with him, and the minute I turned to take a step, Ash grabbed my arm again as if to say, stay.

  Shit.

  Tears welled in my eyes as he started pacing in front of the class.

  “I’ve always found the human body interesting.” He reached behind him and pulled out an ugly looking dagger with a serrated edge. “Take our ability to handle pain as an example. Did you know that the human brain doesn’t feel pain?” He tossed the knife in the air. “In fact, surgeons don’t even need to put patients under when they operate on the brain because no pain receptors exist in the brain tissue. So if I were to take this knife—” He grinned. “—and make tiny, itty, bitty cuts inside your skull, you’d smile at me like we were on a fucking picnic.” He walked toward one of the students sitting in the front. “Don’t believe me?”

  “No, I mean y-yes, yes I believe you,” he stuttered.

  “I do like experiments.” Ash grinned. “What? No volunteers? I’m disappointed.” He walked back toward me. “Tell you what… I’ll pay for the first volunteer’s entire college tuition—all they have to do is step up as a volunteer. It’s not hard, right? You just get out of your seat, and I get to play Adult Operation. The rest of the students learn a bit about the brain, I get to show the rest of the world how idiotic all the students here are by cracking open someone’s brain and seeing cobwebs and Snapchat, and Annie over here, well, she gets that pound of flesh she deserves after that tweet went out this morning.”

  Gasps were heard around the room, and people started murmuring.

  “Hmmm.” Ash shrugged and leaned against the professor’s desk. “I guess since we have no volunteers, I’ll just start picking them at random, only this time I can promise pain. You see, I gave you guys an out. Nobody took it, so to collect the pound of flesh she deserves…” He pointed the knife at me. “I’ll just be
taking a few ounces from each of you. I’ll stop when she’s satisfied and when the floor’s covered in blood. Don’t think I won’t do it.” He thumbed the knife and moved back to the student directly in front of him. “Your hand, please.”

  Shaking, he slowly held out his hand. Ash lifted the blade.

  “STOP!” I yelled, unable to keep the horror out of my voice. “I’ll volunteer, I’ll do it.”

  The blade hovered over the kid’s hand as he puked on the guy sitting next to him and then passed out.

  Ash dropped his hand and glanced over his shoulder with a wink. “You had me worried there for a minute.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “That, dear students, is your lesson of the day.” Ash walked back toward me and wrapped an arm around me. “You don’t pick on the weak ones; they’re usually the first to take the fall for all of you because they’re secretly the strongest ones in the group. Besides, it just makes you look like a fucking jackass. If you want to pick on someone, pick on me. That at least makes it a fair fight.” He grinned. “For at least the first few seconds while I let you think you have the upper hand.” He sighed. “If I see any more bullying, any more tweets, even a hint of hate. I’ll stop at each class and collect.” He abruptly pulled away and slid the jagged knife across his palm. “My oath.”

  People looked ready to cry. One girl was rocking in her desk while another was hurriedly packing up her bag.

  “All right.” He smiled wide. “Class dismissed, our professor was feeling under the weather, be sure to volunteer for the Fall Thanksgiving Drive.”

  I was so stunned I didn’t even remember walking back toward his car.

  Or how I even got my seatbelt buckled.

  All I could say as he drove down the road was, “Why?”

  It was quiet for a few minutes before he whispered, “Only I get to be the reason for your tears. Not them. Never them.”

  I had no idea that for the next two months, Ash and I would be at odds, that he’d make breakfast, take me to school, he’d be as polite as possible.

  But that he was more bodyguard than friend.

  Angry around the edges.

  Unrecognizable.

  And I was still the same.

  Going through the motions.

  Empty.

  Chapter Eleven

  “The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives life fully is prepared to die at any time.” —Mark Twain

  Ash

  “Could you try not to hit me in the junk next time?” King dodged my next hit. Sweat poured down his recently tatted chest.

  “No promises.” I sneered as I threw another punch.

  I’d driven Annie back to the house and instantly bolted from the car, my brain a whirlwind of emotions from anger to revenge, lust, sadness. It was like every single human emotion possible had chosen this day to dump on me, fucking with my brain and my heart.

  I expected her to follow me down into the basement and was a little disappointed when she didn’t. But I kept going. I knew at least one of my cousins would be waiting to spar—it was an unwritten rule, either go to my house or Nixon’s and expect blood. Thankfully King was only too happy to jump into the ring—though he lost his shit-eating grin after I took out all my rage on his body.

  “Hope that doesn’t get infected,” I said, landing another punch across his face.

  “Son of a bitch, Ash, who the hell pissed you off today?” He held up both hands; the white tape was stained with wide streaks of crimson at this point.

  “I get next,” Junior said from the side of the ring.

  I barked out a laugh. “No, Tank’s next.”

  Tank glared up at me. “No, Tank’s good. Thanks, though.”

  “Pussy,” I spat just as the girls walked in. Annie was hanging in the back with Izzy and Kartini while Serena was making an angry beeline toward Junior. Ah, the entertainment never did end with those two.

  King nodded his head toward the girls. “Come on, they like it when we get all bloody and dirty.”

  “Ew, that’s your cousin,” I pointed out.

  “Okay, there’s first cousins… and second cousins—”

  “Fuck, is he quoting Mean Girls again?” This from Junior, who still didn’t realize his very angry girlfriend was standing right behind him, arms crossed, nostrils flaring.

  Both King and I immediately stopped fighting and watched in rapt fascination as Junior slowly hung his head, cursing under his breath. “She’s behind me, isn’t she?”

  “YES.” Serena gave him a shove. “SHE IS!”

  Annie’s eyes widened as she took in the scene. Already Serena was beating on Junior’s back, then sideswiped him with a clever Jiu-Jitsu move that had me slow clapping in encouragement. I mean, it was a great takedown; it needed to be acknowledged.

  He went sailing to the floor and onto his back, guarding his face with his hands as he yelled. “I thought you would be happy!’

  “DO.” Swat. “I.” Punch. “Look.” Ohhhhh hell. I winced as she grabbed his balls. “HAPPY TO YOU?”

  “No. Yes.” Junior winced in pain, his teeth clenched. “Just tell me the right answer before I lose my ability to have children.”

  “YOU FILMED US!” she screeched in a horrified voice that had my own balls trembling in fear. I wouldn’t put it past her to just castrate him right then and there.

  “Oh shit.” King burst out laughing as he crossed his arms and leaned against the ring. “This is better than TV.”

  Maksim stopped training with a few of the De Lange orphans in the corner and walked over, arms crossed while they stayed where they were as if moving too close to Serena would suddenly make them just as guilty as Junior.

  Smart guys.

  All five of them were petrified of Serena. Then again, they were only eighteen. Hell, I knew thirty-year-olds who refused to look her directly in the eyes lest they lose their dicks.

  “I can explain!” Junior yelled again, then flipped in a classic move and managed to throw his weight toward her then flip her onto her back.

  “Full mount. Very nice.” King whispered under his breath.

  Junior pinned her. “Look, you looked really hot, you are hot… What am I saying right now—”

  “He’s so dead.” I laughed out loud, and the feeling felt so foreign that I almost stopped laughing altogether. How long had it been since I didn’t think twice about laughing? As if I wasn’t honoring her memory by having a good time? Being miserable, staying miserable meant that I remembered her, right?

  “And I didn’t know we were going to have sex, all right?”

  “WHEN DO WE NOT HAVE SEX?”

  “That’s actually a very valid point.” Maksim just had to chime in.

  “Maksim!” Junior yelled as Serena bucked underneath him. “Not now, man!”

  Maksim held up his hands, and I could tell the little shit was seconds away from making it worse.

  “Well?” Serena seethed.

  “Fuck, I hate all of you sometimes.” Junior kept her pinned and then, in a very low whisper, confessed, “I was going to propose.”

  She went completely still beneath him. “Wait… what?”

  “I wanted it to be just us.” Junior’s eyes searched hers. “That’s why I had the camera set up; I wanted you to have it on video. It’s not like I set you up. And again, you’re sexy, I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Maybe you guys just delete that part of the proposal video,” I suggested with a shrug. Sounded reasonable to me. “I can’t imagine Nixon wanting to watch you get his daughter naked before asking for her hand…”

  Maksim snickered. “He’d probably just chop off his hand to make things even.”

  Junior scowled. “I would have deleted it, except I got distracted by this one.” Junior put more weight on Serena as she struggled to get free. “And then we fell asleep, and I knew she had an appointment with her mom and—”

  “You idiot!” Serena tried bucking her hips again. “You don’t hav
e to do anything special. All I want is you!”

  “Classic hot girl falls for stupid guy.” Maksim sighed. “I’m here for it.”

  “Go anywhere else, Maksim. Really ANYWHERE else,” Junior called from his position on the floor and then slowly started to let Serena up.

  She mauled him again and started searching his pockets. “Where’s the ring? You didn’t change your mind, did you? Junior, hello?” She shoved him again and again as she moved her hands all over his body in a way that looked almost painful.

  “You, uh…” I laughed. “You sure about this, bro? She’s a bit of a handful.”

  Junior just winked at me. “I got big hands.”

  “Yeah, you do.” Serena smiled.

  I just shook my head because they were idiots, both of them idiots that deserved each other, idiots that I loved.

  The pain in my chest intensified.

  It wasn’t from the fighting.

  It was jealousy.

  Jealousy that they had the ending I should have had.

  The happy one where you fuck as much as you fight.

  Claire hadn’t ever pushed me. No, it always felt more like manipulation.

  “We’re pregnant,” she said in a hush. “We need to think about the baby’s future, Ash, not just ours. I mean, can you really see us raising a child in this environment?”

  I immediately tensed. “What the hell’s wrong with being raised like this? I had everything as a child. I wanted for nothing. I had family. I had friends. I grew up with my best friends. What the fuck, Claire?”

  She scowled and looked down at her hands. “You say that now, but would you really raise your son or daughter up in this life?”

  “My dad did it, my uncles did it, why not us?” I reached for her hand only to have her jerk it away and rub it. “What? Now you’re pissed? You know I’ve got you; I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “I know.” Her smile seemed forced. “Come on, let’s get to class.” She stopped walking. “Actually, I was going to run some errands, but I can do them later. Can I borrow your car, like later this week?”

  I tossed her the spare key fob. “Just let me know when and try not to wreck it.”