Page 63 of Making the King

“I-I don’t know how to s-stop,” I hiccup.

The mattress dips as he climbs in behind me, spooning me until I’m no longer shaking with pent-up emotions. He continues to hold me, pressing his lips to my shoulder until I’m able to breathe normally again.

“You were dreaming about your sister again,” he says. It’s not a question which means I must have called out her name.

“Not a dream,” I mutter. “Always a nightmare.”

Rocco remains silent, and I know why. He wants to know what it was about, but he doesn’t want to ask me. Just like I didn’t want to ask him what happened before he lived on the street. I did it anyway, though. Pushed for answers I had no right to.

“You said she was killed in jail by a monster. Was it an inmate?”

I nod.

“Someone she had issues with?”

This time I shake my head. While I was feared and maybe begrudgingly respected, Julietta was actually liked. Despite the different cliques, people showed her kindness and never bothered her. That’s the kind of person she was. Somehow, she always brought the best out in the people around her.

“No,” I croak. “In fact, she loved her killer very much.”

I feel the exact moment Rocco figures the truth out for himself. His hold on me tightens as he rasps, “Fucking hell. No wonder you’re trapped in that nightmare. Why did you do it?”

Fighting more tears I squeeze my eyes shut. “It was my gift to her. Julietta’s spirit was slowly dying. She’d been through so much… and… and…” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “The fucker she was married to broke her, and she wanted to die. But she asked me to do it.”

Rocco exhales audibly, but remains quiet.

“At first I said no, but then I realized that was selfish of me. She wasn’t happy, and I don’t think she could ever find happiness again.”

“Why didn’t she do it herself?” As soon as he’s asked the question, Rocco curses. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

I place my hand on top of his to let him know I understand. “Even though I already knew the answer, I asked her the same thing. Julietta was religious and believed that she couldn’t get into heaven if she committed suicide.”

My hand closes around the cross dangling from my necklace. It makes me feel closer to her when I touch it, like I can almost imagine hearing her voice.

“One of the women agreed to help me, and she fashioned a shiv. Two stood guard as Julietta and I went into the… the…”

“You don’t have to say it.”

Ignoring Rocco, I finish. “Shower.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I locked you in the bathroom. I literally fucking locked you in your worst nightmare.”

The irony that we’ve both made the other suffer their personal nightmare isn’t lost on me. Yeah, Rocco locked me in the bathroom, but I also took his choice from him and lost my virginity on his cock without his input.

Yet, we’re still here. Still together, and I like the change he’s brought out in me. Through his actions, he’s showing me a life I never even dared to dream of—one where I matter and have a voice.

“And I took something from you,” I remind him as shame burns through me.

Fuck. I still can’t believe I did that.

Okay, the thing I’m having the hardest time coming to terms with is that I don’t fully regret it. Because that was the moment things changed between us, which has brought us here. To the moment where I realize I need Rocco’s help.

“Rocco,” I say, turning in his hold so we’re face-to-face. “Will you help with something?” Nerves make my voice sound formal like I’m about to pitch a business proposal rather than ask him to try something with me.

“Of course, Killer,” he replies immediately. “Name it.”

The eagerness in his tone makes my heart skip a beat and my breath hitches. “Rocco.”

Unable to express the way he makes me feel, I slant my lips to his. His surprised intake of air spurs me on, and I deepen the kiss as I hoist my leg around his hip and move us so he’s on his back and I straddle him.

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