Page 42 of His Kingdom

“What about the store? You can’t just leave,” I tell her. Evie owns and runs a small boutique in town.

“It’ll be fine. I’m coming,” she says. “I’ll be there tomorrow… or I meantoday.”

“Don’t book a room. You can stay with me.”

“With the mobster you’re shacking up with?” She laughs.

“No, smart-ass, I have my own room here. It’s more like an apartment really. It’s huge.”

“Are you sure? I can book a room,” Evie says.

“No, don’t waste the money,” I tell her.

“Are you going to be okay? Until I get there?”

“Of course. I don’t know what Louie is doing, but I don’t feel like he’d hurt me, Evie.” I pause. “Is it wrong that my first thought is what will happen to him and not Owen?”

“No. Owen’s an ass who doesn’t deserve to be anywhere in your thoughts.”

“I spentyearswith him, Evie. I should still care.”

“You didn’t love him. I believe you did, at one point, but we could tell your heart wasn’t really in it, especially the closer we got to the wedding.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“We did. Rachel and I both asked you multiple times if you really wanted to get married and you kept insisting you did,” she says.

“You’re right. I thought that things would change after the wedding. I just thought it was jitters. And then I knew I couldn’t go through with it. I was going to tell him the night before.”

“I know. But let’s focus on the future. You can literally do anything you want now,” Evie says.

“Yeah,” I agree with a smile. “I’ve never felt more free.”

“Even if you are shacked up with a mobster.” She laughs.

“He is not a mobster,” I huff. “I love you, Evie.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll be there soon,” she says. “Love you too.” Then the camera cuts off and she’s gone.

Is my friend right? Is Louie a mobster?It seems so strange to think that he is. Then again, the question I should be asking myself is:What do I do if it’s true? Leave? Stay?

ChapterTwenty-One

Iwatch the footage of Charlotte being grabbed around her arm. And not for the first time. I keep hitting replay and I’m not sure why, seeing as all it does is get me more worked up. “I want to know where the fuck he is. Now!” I yell out.

“I’m on it. Scanning his face through every hotel CCTV. Wherever he’s staying, we’ll know about it soon,” Carlo says.

I want this cocksucker’s head on a spike. I want his hands boxed up and sent to his mother. I want to burn his remains in a shallow fucking grave out in the desert.

“This is a lot of effort for someone who, in your words,isn’t important,” Emmanuel says from where he’s seated in a wingback chair, his posture relaxed as he observes me with a close eye.

“Denial is a common theme in this city,” Sammie adds.

“Fuck off. I don’t care what any of you say. I want this fucker’s head, and if I have to do it myself, I will. I don’t need your help,” I tell all three of them.

“What? And let you have all the fun?” Carlo shrugs. “Besides, I happen to like her.”

“Me too, even if she does scare the fuck out of me,” Sammie says.

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