Page 75 of King

She flushed. “I meant your muscles and height.”

His laughter rumbled through the room, deep and rich, before he scooped her up effortlessly, cradling her against his chest. Amara curled into him instinctively, inhaling his scent that was purelyhim. It was ridiculous how safe she felt in his arms, how right it felt.

As he carried her toward the basement, which had become their sanctuary and place of privacy, she peeked up at him, mischief dancing in her eyes.

“Are you carrying me like a little bitch?” she teased, throwing Joey’s words back at him.

King grinned at her, amusement flickering in his golden gaze. Without breaking stride, he reached behind him and locked the door one-handed, still effortlessly holding her.

“No,” he murmured, gaze locked on hers. He continued down the stairs, his steps steady, deliberate. “I’m carrying you like a man…” But then he stopped. Mid-step, mid-sentence. Juststopped.

Amara frowned, tilting her head to look at him. He wasn’t smiling anymore. His face was unreadable, but his grip on her tightened, his chest rising and falling a little too deeply.

“Like a manwhat?” she whispered, her heart pounding.

Something had shifted in the air between them, something heavy and raw. Amara hadneverseen King at a loss for words before. He was always so sure, so steady. But now, he just stood there, staring at her like she was fragile.

She tried to lighten the moment, offering him a teasing smile. “I was just kidding, King.” She shifted in his arms, attempting to slide down, but he held her closer, his grip unyielding.

“I’m not.” His voice was rough but not unsteady.

Amara’s breath hitched. His golden eyes darkened, filled with something deep, something intense.

“A manin lovewith you.” His words landed like a spark in dry grass, setting something ablaze inside her.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Her fingers clenched against his shoulders as her heart pounded so hard she swore he could hear it. “King…” she whispered, his name catching in her throat.

But he didn’t say anything else. He just looked at her, waiting, letting the weight of his confession settle between them, allowing her to decide what to do with it.

Amara had always wondered if real love was something she might never truly have. And yet, here he was. Holding her like she was the most important thing in his world. And she wasn't afraid to be loved for the first time in her life.

She reached up and touched his face, her fingers tracing along his sharp jawline and cheek. Then, slowly, she leaned in, pressing her forehead against his.

“I’m in love with you too, King,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his.

King exhaled sharply like he had been holding his breath this whole time. Then his lips crashed against hers as if he had been waiting for this moment forever. She knew she had been.

CHAPTER 32

King stood back, allowing Amara and Joey privacy as they said goodbye to Lee. They allowed half an hour for the family before the public was invited in. The public was the part that was bothering him. Sloan had sent a group text that all Warriors not on duty would be on alert at the funeral.

He scoped the area out, making sure he knew where the entrances and exits were. His eyes went to Amara as she moved toward the funeral director. King wasn’t one to pay much attention to clothing, but when Amara had come downstairs before they left for the funeral home, everything else ceased to exist. Her dress was black as the night sky before a storm. The fabric clung to her in a respectful and sinful way, the modest neckline doing little to hide the elegant curve of her throat, the long sleeves framing the delicate strength in her arms. It hugged her waist, skimmed over her hips, and fell just below her knees, but it was the way she moved in it that held him captive. She was graceful yet powerful; she carried both sorrow and defiance in every step. The slit along her thigh was barely there, just a tease, but enough to make his fists clench at his sides tokeep from touching her. She was mourning, but Amara was still breathtaking. When she finally turned, searching for him and her beautiful eyes searching his, King knew that no matter the occasion or the grief...Amara would always be the most stunning thing in any room.

The funeral director said something, pulling Amara’s attention away from him. King didn’t hear the words. His focus shifted to Joey, who was struggling to leave the room. The kid’s movements were tense, his face a mask of frustration. King frowned, pushing off the wall, and headed toward him. The doors were still locked for another few minutes. He had instructed the funeral director to notify him before opening the doors to the public. If the man had thought the request was strange, he hadn’t questioned it. King wasn’t taking chances, not with them. Not today. Not ever.

His sharp gaze caught Joey slumped in a chair, head in his hands, the crutches abandoned in the middle of the floor. A quiet sigh left King as he walked over, scooped them up, and leaned them against the wall out of the way but close enough if Joey needed them.

King lowered himself into the chair beside him, stretching his legs out and crossing at the ankles. He didn’t speak. Didn’t push. The kid needed a moment, and King would give it to him. He leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, scanning the room out of habit before glancing down at his own clothes. Black slacks, polished boots, and a white button-down shirt. It was the only decent shirt he owned. His leather jacket rested heavily on his shoulders, hiding the weapons he refused to be without.

His gaze drifted to the casket, the weight of the moment settling in. Today made it real. Today made what happened to Lee final. He understood that grief wasn’t an emotion that followedany rules. For Joey and Amara, this was when it all became undeniable. There was no coming back from this—no more waiting for an impossible miracle.

He finally turned his head toward Joey. King exhaled slowly. "Do you need anything?" His voice was calm and steady—the way you talked to someone standing on the edge.

Joey didn’t look up. Didn’t answer right away. But after a long moment, he shook his head. "I just... I don’t know what to do now."

King nodded, understanding that feeling better than he cared to admit. "You keep going." His voice was firm but not unkind. "That’s all you can do."

"Yeah, I guess." Joey finally lifted his head, his eyes red but dry. “Guess it just hit me that I’m pretty much alone in the world now.”

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