Page 35 of Kings Fear No One
Ask me what I expected Teysha Baxter to say in this moment, and I’d tell you I had no fucking clue. But I do know her asking for a drink was nowhere on the list. Even if one existed.
My brows lift higher. I barely remember to watch the road. “You mean something with alcohol, or are you asking for apple juice?”
The tension breaks with a soft laugh from Teysha. “A drink with alcohol. Why would I want juice?”
“The same reason your family came by yelling about wickedness. You sure it’s allowed?”
I’m giving her a hard time. Pushing her buttons. Working her up.
But my attempt falls flat.
Any humor Teysha’s found disappears. Her laugh’s long gone. She turns her head back toward the window.
I let it go. That scene with her family obviously messed with her head.
We pull into the nearest gas station. I reup on some gas and then walk Teysha into the convenience store. A week since her rescue, she’s still nervous in public. She’s never said so, but I’ve picked up on it.
Once inside, she almost turns down the wrong aisle.
“Beer and liquor’s this way.”
I grab her hand and head in the opposite direction she was going. As I lead her down the aisle filled with salty snacks like potato chips and popcorn, another hunch takes shape. Teysha’s hesitant steps tell me all I need to know.
This is a first-time thing for her.
“You ever drink before?”
“That obvious?”
“How old are you again?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I swear. “You’re almost a damn kid.”
“I’ll be twenty-three in September. I was supposed to graduate college this past semester, but obviously I… I never got to finish.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, it gets worse. You’re in college?”
“Don’t speak the Lord’s name in vain,” she scolds.
I’m still too stuck on her age to care.
I’d known she was younger than me. But I didn’t realize it was by almost a whole decade. I’m thirty years old married to a damn college student barely legal enough to drink.
No wonder she feels so… inexperienced. From the moment she was hauled into the Chosen Saints ceremony and deposited in front of me, I picked up on it. That she was green.
I corrupted her that night and I’m about to corrupt her again.
“We’ll start you off simple. Some wine coolers. There’s barely a drop in those.”
Her brows knit. “I want what you drink.”
“Trust me when I say you couldn’t handle it, babe,” I say with a rough laugh.
“Yes, I could. Babe.”
I open the refrigerator door to grab a case of beer. “Feeling snippety, are you? Where was all that mouth when your family was around?”
