Page 82 of Making the King

“Choose, daughter.” My mom’s cold voice rings out again. “Now,” she demands.

I look back at my brother and mouth, ‘I forgive you.’ Then I look at Gray, and mouth, ‘I’m sorry.’

My heart breaks, the shattered pieces are jagged, and I can feel them cutting my insides. Tears make my eyes blurry, and my hand is shaking so hard it’s difficult to hold the gun.

“Please,” I beg, not caring about being strong. “Please don’t make me do this. I’ll do anything you want. Just… not this…” I want to keep begging, but hiccups steal my voice.

Mom laughs, and it’s a hard and cruel sound that hurts my ears. “You’ll do anything I want soon enough, daughter. This was your test. A chance for me to see if you were strong enough to one day be my equal, but you’re not.”

She isn’t wrong. If she views what she’s doing as being strong, I want to be so weak the wind can blow me away. I want no part in this sick game. Apart from… I want to be the one to end it.

While chanting those words over and over in my head, I lift the gun, aim, and pull the trigger.

Rocco

Ascream from out in the club has us out of our seats before Tex has a chance to come barging in, and we nearly crash into him as we go to inspect what the fuck is happening now.

“Help!” The scream comes from the entrance, and my gun is in my hand in an instant as I quickly survey the area in search of Cara.

Where the fuck is she?

“It’s Grayson!” Sasha comes charging in looking frantic, blood smeared across her palms. “Help him! Someone help him!”

I push past her, flying out the door before skidding to a stop at the body laying on the ground before us.

“Fuck.” I hiss, momentarily stunned.

“The fuck!” Dante roars barging past, kicking me in motion.

“Gray!” I shout, dropping to my knees by the sixteen-year-old kid. Or who I think is Grayson.

“Gray!” Gunner’s voice comes from behind us, and I hear Tex stop him.

“Hold back, kid. Let them check him.”

Accessing the battered boy, I can see past the blood and swelling that it is Gray. It fucking is him.

“Who the fuck did this!” I roar as my eyes spot something sticking out of the pocket in his shirt.

“Call a fucking ambulance!” Dante calls to anyone who will listen as he kneels on Grayson’s other side.

“Already on it.” Baz informs him while I tug what looks like a photo from Gray’s pocket.

“Fuck,” I whisper as I wipe the blood smeared on it to see familiar gray eyes. “FUCK!” I roar, shooting to my feet.

“What is it?” Dante asks with urgency, snatching the photo from my hand.

“Where the fuck is Cara?!” I roar, pushing through the wall of people as I go back inside the club, in search of my wife. “CARA!”

“She’s not in h-here.” Rose cowers as my angry glare shoots her way. “S-she went out for a smoke b-before and never came back in.”

“WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T ANYONE SAY ANYTHING?!”

“Rocco, man. Calm down.” Dante’s hand clasps my shoulder from behind, but I wrench myself away.

“Calm down? Are you fucking serious? My wife goes fucking missing, and no one thinks to go fucking looking for her or fuck, at least tell me?”

Sobs sound from nearby and I snarl at Rose’s tear-stained face.

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