King, Page 23

  “My what?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “You knew he was coming?” Then, it hit me, and I sucked in a strangled breath. “You knew who I was?”

  King didn’t say anything, but most importantly, he didn’t deny it.

  “How long have you known?” I whispered.

  King looked down at his shoes.

  “How long have you fucking known?” I shouted.

  “Since the very beginning,” he admitted. “Since before I came for you again after you escaped.”

  “Escaped?” Tanner asked, reminding me of his presence.

  “The entire time?” I asked, feeling as if he just stabbed me in my chest. “You knew who I was this entire fucking time?”

  “What the fuck do you want me to say? I’m a shit person, and I do shitty things. You knew that. I fucking told you that, but you went and fell for me anyway.” He ran his hand over his head in frustration. “Well, it’s over now. Welcome to your new life. Or I should say your old life,” King spat.

  He lowered his eyes. “You deserve better than all this shit anyway.” He waved his hand toward the house. “You deserve better than me. You’ve got a family. Go be with them, and forget I exist.”

  His eyes darted down to Tanner who stood in the front yard with confusion marring his face. He glanced back and forth between me and King.

  “What’s going—” Tanner started to ask.

  “Shut the fuck up,” King snapped, effectively silencing the boy.

  “That is NOT your decision to make,” I told him. “You don’t get to say where I go or who I go with.”

  “Actually, it is,” King argued.

  “What the fuck does that mean? What the fuck did you do?”

  “Ray!” the boy shouted over our argument.

  King looked down at him as if he were going to leap down the steps and crush his skull with his hands.

  “Come down here,” Tanner said in a gentle voice. “Just for a second. I just want to see you. Talk to you.”

  I looked back at King, and it dawned on me. It wasn’t my decision to make because he was giving me away.

  That’s what last night and this morning were all about. He was saying his goodbyes.

  King nodded to me as if to say I had his approval to go talk to Tanner. I rolled my eyes at him. I didn’t need his fucking approval.

  I tentatively descended the stairs one at a time. When I got to the bottom, I sat on the bottom step. “Do you know who I am?” Tanner asked, crouching down and resting his hands on his knees.

  I shook my head. “I recognize your eyes, but nothing else,” I admitted.

  “As I said, my name is Tanner. We’ve known each other our entire lives. We were homecoming king and queen all four years of high school,” he said with a chuckle. Then his face grew serious. “I love you. You love me. Always have.” Tanner blushed and rocked back on his heels. “It feels weird to introduce myself to you when we’ve known each other since we were in diapers.”

  “Who am I?” I asked hesitantly.

  Tanner took a seat on the step next to me, careful to keep some distance between us. I didn’t need to look back at King to know he was watching Tanner’s every move. I felt his gaze on my back as if they were rays of the sun singing my skin. Tanner smelled like the beach. His unruly hair fell into his eyes. He brushed it out of the way as he spoke. A huge smile spread across his face, revealing a dimple in his left cheek.

  “You are the lovely Ramie Elizabeth Price. Daughter of Dr. Margot Price and Senator Bigelow Price. You live in East Palm Cove, about an hour from here. You were enrolled in art school, and you were supposed to start in the fall. You and I were going to backpack around Europe for the summer first, but then you disappeared.”

  I had a name.

  Ramie. Ramie. Ramie.

  “Ramie,” I whispered, testing the name out on my tongue.

  Still nothing.

  “I went to the police. They said no one was looking for me. No missing persons report. Why didn’t you look for me if I was missing?” I asked.

  Tanner shook his head. “I didn’t want to have to be the one to tell you this, but you had this friend, and she was going through some bad stuff. She got in trouble a lot. You left a note, said you were running away. They didn’t look for you because they didn’t think you wanted to be found. You had just turned eighteen. You were an adult. There was no missing persons report because you weren’t missing. You were just gone.”

  “I left?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I left you?”

  “Yeah,” he admitted. “You left me. And your mom. And your dad. Everyone.”

  I had a mom.

  “Why isn’t my mom here?” I asked.

  “We didn’t want to overwhelm you. Your mom is at home, waiting for you to arrive, but your dad is in the car.” Tanner said, pointing to the town car with the blacked out windows, still running on the driveway.

  “I still don’t remember. I thought I would remember if I saw someone from my past, if they told me who I was, but I don’t.” My head spun. If I didn’t remember him face to face, would I ever remember him?

  Would I ever remember anyone?

  “You will, but it will take time. You just need to get back into the groove of things for a while. Your normal routine. It will come back to you. We won’t rush it. Your mom’s got the best doctors already on call. Specialists. You’ll be back to your old self in no time,” he said, nudging my shoulder.

  King had already told them everything. At least enough for my mom to already have doctors at the ready.

  The girl who I’d given up on might be back after all.

  The back door of the car opened again, and out stepped a tall man in a sharp black suit and a solid red tie.

  “Who is that?” I asked Tanner.

  “Your dad,” he told me. “The senator.”

  “Ramie,” the man said. “Your mother is worried sick. Let’s go. Get in the car,” he said sternly, buttoning the bottom button of his suit jacket.

  It was ninety degrees outside, and there wasn’t one drop of sweat on his forehead. No redness on his cheeks. It’s like he was too important to be affected by the heat.

  From above me, King leaned forward over the railing. With the light of the sun directly overhead, his massive frame cast a shadow onto the ground.

  He really did look like a King. A force to be reckoned with. Zeus, on his perch above the world.

  The senator stepped out of King’s shadow as if he were too good to be standing in it. This irked me.

  He wasn’t better than King.

  No one was.

  King was a bad guy, but he was my bad guy. He was more than that. He was my world. My heart. These people may have known who I was before, but I knew who I was now, and the two versions of me were going to have to figure out how to merge before I uprooted what I had with King in search of something unknown.

  “Senator,” King acknowledged the man.

  “Mr. King,” the senator greeted, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.

  “Where’s Max?” King asked, bitterly.

  “Soon, she’ll be here soon. There is another car on its way here with her in it.”

  “Trade means trade.” King said. “She isn’t going anywhere until Max gets here.”

  Then, it hit me. King had said I didn’t have a choice, and now, I knew why.

  If I stayed, King wouldn’t get his daughter back. The trade he mentioned was me for Max.

  “There she is now,” the senator said as another town car pulled up into the driveway. King bounded down the steps jumping over me as he made his way over to the car. The second it stopped, King opened the back door.

  “Max?” he shouted into the car.

  The driver rounded the vehicle and produced something from his jacket pocket. He slapped a metal cuff around King’s wrist.

  “She’s not in there,” King shouted, pulling at the cuff. “What the fuck is this? Where is she?”


  The man I thought was the driver twisted King’s other arm forward and secured the cuffs in front of him.

  “What are you doing?” I shouted, running up to King. “Let him go!” A pair of strong arms grabbed me from behind and stopped me from getting any closer. “What the fuck is going on? I need to go to him!”

  I kicked my feet in the air as the man I was told was my father lifted me up off the ground. King’s nostrils flared as the man who’d just put King in cuffs, wrestled him into the back seat of the car.

  “Mr. King, this is Detective Lyons. You’re being arrested for the abduction of my daughter,” the senator said, all the while maintaining his hold on me.

  “But he didn’t kidnap me! He didn’t do anything. He saved me. He SAVED me!” I shouted, biting at his arm as I tried to break free of his grip.

  And I meant it. King had saved me. In every way. He’d saved me from myself, from a life of standing still. Because of him, I was moving forward.

  I wanted to move forward with him.

  “You motherfucker!” King shouted. Detective Lyons closed the car door, and I lost sight of King behind the heavy tint of the windows.

  “No!” I called out. The car took off and disappeared under the trees. “Let me fucking go!”

  The senator turned me around to face him and grabbed me roughly by the shoulders. “Calm down, Ramie, or you’re going to scare him,” he warned.

  “Who? What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Tanner walked over to the car and opened the door. A little boy with curls like Tanner’s and hair as white as mine tumbled out of the back seat.

  The little boy saw me and opened his arms. He came bounding up to me and crashed into my thigh.

  The senator released his hold on me. The little boy nuzzled his face into my leg.

  I looked down at him, puzzled.

  Because it wasn’t the way his eyes were as icy-blue as mine, or how the dimple on his chin matched mine that alarmed me the most.

  It was what he shouted that made my heart stop.

  “Mommy!”

  To be continued in the next book, TYRANT, August 17th 2015.

  Read on for a glimpse at the Prologue.

  Tyrant

  Prologue

  King

  The average time spent between incarcerations for a career criminal is six months.

  I’d only been out three.

  I’d expected to find Max in that car. Instead, cold metal clinked around my wrists, and the asshole pig had the audacity to laugh when he tightened the cuffs to the point of pain.

  I didn’t wince though. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He pressed down on my head roughly and shoved me hard into back of the old police cruiser. I landed on my side, and my cheek slammed against the sticky seat. It smelled like vomit and bad decisions. My hands tingled from the loss of blood flow.

  The motherfucker was lucky I was in cuffs.

  Three years. They already had me for three fucking years, and now they were going to have me for a whole lot longer.

  Kidnapping wasn’t exactly rewarded with a light slap on the wrist, especially for someone whose record was as long as mine. I promised I was never going back, but keeping my promises is just another thing I was never very good at.

  I was all out of fucks to give though. The system could have me. I belonged to them now, but they didn’t fucking own me. They would NEVER fucking own me.

  She owned me.

  Heart and black fucking soul.

  I will walk to the fucking chow line with a shit-eating grin on my face wearing my scratchy orange jumpsuit every motherfucking day. I will play cards with the worst of the worst and make nice with the guards who were willing to cut me some slack. At night, when I’m alone in my windowless cell with my dick in my hand, I will remember what it was like to have her in my bed; how her innocent wide eyes stared up at me as I moved inside her, the way she arched her back into me as I made her come over and over again.

  I kept telling myself that I didn’t have anything to offer her, but that wasn’t true.

  I had love.

  Pup. Doe. Ray. Whatever the fuck her ame was. I loved her more than what was normal, rational, or sane, and I would gladly rot in fucking prison with a smile on my face if I knew my girl was going to be okay.

  But I didn’t know that. I couldn’t know that.

  I should have known that motherfucker was going to fucking cross me.

  “The notorious Brantley King,” the pig said with a smirk as he got into the front seat. The plastic-like leather squeaked against his belt as he closed his door and started the engine. “You’d think you’d have learned your lesson by now, boy.”

  He laughed and shook his head. It was obvious that this guy was getting some sort of sick pleasure out of being the one to put me in cuffs.

  “King,” I corrected him defiantly. Nobody called me Brantley but her.

  “Excuse me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me through the mirror.

  I sat up straight, meeting his gaze with mine as if I were staring straight through to his pussy-ass soul. “They call me King, mother fucker.”

  The rage inside me grew to epic proportions. That’s when I noticed the detective didn’t turn onto the main road but instead drove straight onto the path through the woods.

  This guy was no fucking cop. I spotted his gun; he’d set it on the dash. It was a Judge, not the kind of gun that was standard police-issue. This guy wasn’t taking to me jail.

  He was taking me to ground.

  There was no time to waste.

  My girls needed me.

  More than that, I needed them.

  The moron had cuffed me in front. That should’ve been my first sign that something was off. A real cop would’ve never done that unless he was transporting a nonviolent criminal.

  Which wasn’t me.

  Using the chain that connected my cuffs, I trapped the fake detective’s neck against the headrest and yanked back with all my might until I felt like my biceps were going to explode.

  His hands left the wheel and flailed about as he tried to connect with my head, but I dodged him by lowering myself behind the seat.

  The car veered off the path and bounced from side to side as it ran over a patch of knee-high roots.

  The pressure mounted behind my eyes as I tugged back on the cuffs, squeezing tighter and tighter. I didn’t release my hold until the car came crashing to stop and every inch of life had drained from his body.

  The fake cop was right. I would never be anything more than the notorious Brantley King.

  That was fine by me because the senator had a lesson to learn. You did not take what was mine and not expect to pay in blood, sweat, or pussy.

  He took my girl. He wanted to take my life.

  His payment would be in blood.