King / Page 15

Page 15


“Fuck,” he said, his fingers were now coated in the same red as my hand.

Is that blood?

Bear stood off to the side with his arms folded across his chest. I opened my mouth to ask him what had happened, but nothing came out.

The two men exchanged some words I couldn’t make sense of. A black halo formed around the room and it’s contents, and as the seconds ticked by everything faded further and further into the expanding dark tunnel. My fear of the dark caused my pulse to race, but a sudden eerie sense of calm took over and I concentrated on the beautiful face of the angry man hovering above me.

“I don’t even know your name,” I whispered.

I managed to stay conscious long enough to hear his answer.

“They call me King.”

Then the blackness surrounded me and swallowed me whole.

Chapter Five

King

I’d never been so angry in my entire fucking life. And in the past twenty-seven years I’d been alive more than a few people had felt the wrath of Brantley King.

Few had lived to tell about it.

How old was this girl anyway? Seventeen? Eighteen?

I didn’t know her long enough to hate her, yet I had the overwhelming urge to wrap my hands around her throat and strangle her. Better yet I wanted to unravel one of the belts from my forearm and tighten it around her neck. I wanted her to feel every bit of my fury as I squeezed the life from her boney body.

I wanted to take out all of my frustration on her, but it wasn’t just her I was angry with. I was also pissed-off at myself.

I’ve always been nothing short of meticulous about security, but I’d haphazardly tossed the stack of cash Preppy had given me that day into a drawer.

A fucking drawer.

The old me from three years ago would’ve placed it in my attic safe and changed the combination three times already.

How did I go from being overly careful to dangerously careless?

I should’ve had security guarding the doors. I had enemies going into prison, and I came out with a few more. Instead, I forgot all my past protocol and left a girl I didn’t know shit about, alone in my fucking room, when I should of tossed her out on her ass the second I decided I wasn’t going to fuck her.

Which wasn’t me either.

I didn’t fuck her because she was afraid of me? Because she seemed innocent and naive? Not to say that she didn’t get my dick hard, because she did. I nearly came in my pants when her hands shook as she undid my belt. I told myself that I couldn’t go through with it because what I needed was a girl who could work me like a pro so I could rid myself of the pent up aggression that was turning me stupid.

But that was a lie.

Something inside me, something I could almost mistake for a conscious, told me not to take advantage of the situation. No, it told me not to take advantage of her. Walking away while her cheeks were still flushed from fear, embarrassment, anger, and if I was reading her right, a little bit of desire, was torture on my straining cock. It took a lot of control not to march back and take her up against that wall.

But that was before. Any feelings of doing right by her flew out the window with her friend and my money. The six grand the redhead managed to steal wasn’t enough to scratch the surface on the amount I would need for a payoff, but the amount didn’t matter. Two fucking cents would have been too much.

One way or another, the girl passed out in my bed was going to pay.

I sat down on the mattress and peeled back the covers. Her skirt, which was much too large for her little frame was rolled up at the waistband so it wouldn’t fall off her hips. The material, which was missing most of the sparkly things hanging off of it, had ridden up to her waist in her sleep, her white cotton panties exposed to me. I trailed my fingertips up the outside of her leg from her ankles to her thighs. The simple contact caused my body to shudder and my dick twitched to life.

She was too skinny. Her cheeks were sunken. She had dark circles under her huge eyes. Her elbows were sharp and her ribs reminded me of how Preppy looked when I first met him. She wasn’t the usual kind of girl I went for. I liked tits, ass. Something to play with while my cock took care of business.

So why couldn’t I stop myself from touching her?

I peeled off her tank top and tossed it to the floor.

No Bra.

Small but perfectly round tits. Tits that made me wonder how much more perfect they would be with some meat on her bones. Tits I wanted to watch bounce in my face while she rode me.

The girl sighed heavily but didn’t wake. When her breathing had again leveled out I traced lazy circles onto the smooth skin of her stomach, around her belly button and then around her little pink nipples. It took a fuck of a lot of restraint not to lean over and suck them into my mouth. I wanted to bite them until I drew blood. I wanted to lick the blood off of her pale white skin.


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