Page 79 of King

Bud whimpered, his entire body trembling like a leaf caught in a storm.

King leaned in even closer, so close Bud had no choice but to meet his eyes, to see the cold promise of death staring back at him. “And you know what the best part of that will be?”

Bud shook his head, eyes darting wildly, searching for an escape that didn’t exist.

King’s smile was slow and full of dangerous warning. Then he squeezed, just enough to make the bastard’s breath hitch. “I will enjoy every fucking second of it,” he murmured, his tone almost casual. “And I will get away with it.”

He released Bud with a sharp punch to the mouth, sending him stumbling backwards on his ass. King didn’t look at him again. The piece of shit wasn’t worth his time.

Instead, his eyes immediately sought out her, feeling her presence. Amara stood near the crowd, her gaze locked on him.Her lips were parted slightly, her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. There was no fear in her expression, no judgment. Joey, on the other hand, looked positively delighted.

“Damn,” Joey muttered, shaking his head with a grin. “Dad would’ve loved this.”

A ripple of agreement moved through the onlookers, some chuckling, others nodding their approval.

King exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders back before turning to the Warriors. “Get him the fuck out of here.”

“You sure you don’t want to beat on him a little bit?” Jared frowned looking at Bud trying to pick himself off the ground. “Maybe he didn’t get the message.”

Sid grabbed one arm and Jared the other, picking Bud up while ignoring his strangled protests.

“Yeah, I mean, the crowd seems to want more,” Sid said with a lopsided grin. He then looked at Jared with a smirk. “Ever seen this at a funeral before?”

“Can’t say I have,” Jared replied as a smile spread across his face. “Pretty fucking awesome. Next one I go to I might start a fight.”

King ignored them as he headed toward Amara as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She met him halfway.

“Are you okay?” His voice was softer now, still rough around the edges but laced with something gentler. Something only for her.

Amara blinked up at him, then let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “You wanted to do that last night when Joey opened his big mouth, didn’t you?” She asked with a cocked eyebrow.

King smirked, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “You know me so well,” He paused, his thumb tracing lightly along her jaw. “He won’t bother you again.”

King felt the way Amara’s fingers curled around his wrist, her grip small yet firm, as if she were anchoring herself to him. That slight touch sent his already protective instincts where she was concerned into overdrive.

Her lips pressed into a frown, and her voice was quiet when she said, “All I seem to bring you is problems.”

King stopped, turning slightly so he could look down at her. Did she really think that?

“No problem at all,” he murmured, sliding his arm around her shoulders and leading her back inside. “I like scaring the shit out of assholes. And punching them in the mouth is a bonus.”

Amara let out a soft, almost reluctant laugh, and the sound soothed something raw inside him.

“I’m with Jared,” Joey chimed in, waiting for them by the door with an amused smirk. “You could have at least knocked him out.”

“Too many witnesses,” King replied dryly, holding the door open for them.

“Witnesses who wanted to see you knock him out,” Joey snorted as he maneuvered his way inside.

King smirked but didn’t argue. The kid had a point. They made their way to the front and sat down as the preacher stood waiting for the crowd to settle.

“I’ll be over there.” King nodded toward the wall, intending to step back and let them have their space. But before he could move, Amara’s hand wrapped around his arm.

“Stay here with us.” Her voice was quiet, but her eyes...those deep, pleading eyes held him in place. And when she looked at him like that? Fuck. He’d move heaven and earth if she asked him to.

King didn’t say anything. He just sat down next to her, and the moment he did, she grabbed his hand, holding onto him like he was the only solid thing in a shifting world.

The preacher began speaking, but King barely heard a word. His focus was on keeping his anger in check, on the steady warmth of Amara’s hand in his. It had taken everything in him not to kill that bastard earlier. Everything.

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