Page 13 of The Kingpin's Omega Lover
Learning basic self-defense wasn’t as glamorous as the movie montages made it out to be. Mostly, Malori spent it standing back up while glaring at King for various reasons. After an hour, his ass hurt from falling, his shoulders were sore from learning to roll correctly, and he really wanted a chance to land a solid punch on King’s face, just to prove he could.
But King was fast, graceful, and in full control of his movements—which was both impressive and irritating as hell. Malori wanted that kind of control, not only over his own body, but over his environment, his circumstances, and every other aspect of his uncontrollable life. Mastering each small step, one at a time, in the correct order, made sense intellectually. Malori needed to learn how to do it right the first time, so one day, blocking a punch or ducking a roundhouse kick came as naturally to him as breathing.
Patience had never been his best virtue. And he was in new, physical pain for the first time in months, which left Malori grumpy when King ended their first session. Malori hadn’t hurt like this since his shoulder finally healed, and even though he still got the occasional twinge when the weather changed, thissort of all-over soreness reminded Malori too much of his life at the Farm. Aching and exhausted after an “appointment” with a “guest.”
Malori was sprawled on one of the mats, glaring up at the ceiling, and replaying some of the blocking motions in his mind when a bottle of water appeared in his vision. King smiled down at him, another bottle in his other hand. “Where did those come from?” Malori asked.
“There’s a mini-fridge by the wall where it looks like a media cabinet. Hiding it keeps the room’s aesthetic and makes it feel less college dorm-like.”
“Huh. Did you go to college?”
“No. I planned to, but life happened.”
‘Life happened’ sounded like code for getting caught up in the business he now operated, which was forbidden conversation, so Malori let that topic go. He accepted the water and rolled onto his side so he could drink without choking. The water was chilled but not freezing, which was how he preferred it. He didn’t know how long it took his meals to get from the preparation area to his Farm apartment, but nothing was ever piping hot or well-chilled, and his drinks rarely came with ice.
Some of Kensley’s more adventurous meal offerings were still difficult for Malori to manage without bolting for the bathroom.
“When will we do this again?” Malori asked.
“You might want to wait and ask me tomorrow. You’ll be more sore and probably less eager.”
“Yeah, I remember the way impacts hurt more the next day.” Malori hated how he said such a thing so casually, but that had been his reality for a long time—many wounds needed time to fully develop before the true pain set in, especially punches. So, he didn’t understand why King’s face pinched.
King hid the expression quickly, though, and he squatted to Malori’s level. “I do want to teach you, Malori, but I don’t want you to push yourself too hard, too fast. Practice what you learned today, and we’ll work together again soon, I promise. Avoiding a blow and breaking someone’s hold is a start, but you need to learn to disarm someone, too.”
“When will you teach me how to kill?”
Malori startled himself with the blunt question, but he didn’t stammer or retract it. He wanted to learn every possible way to defend himself, and he also needed to learn how to attack. As long as he lived in the periphery of King’s violent world, Malori was at risk.
King carefully shifted so he was sitting in front of Malori, legs crossed, bottled water held loosely in both hands. He adored the way King came down to Malori’s level, instead of towering over him. He communicated rather than dominated, and that was a rare trait in men.
“Why do you want to learn how to kill?” King asked.
“You kill.”
“When necessary, but it’s not a hobby I’m particularly fond of, and death is not something I ever take lightly. Yes, things can happen in the heat of the moment, which you know full well. But making a conscious choice to take a life will take a toll on you.”
“If you’re worried about my immortal soul, don’t. I don’t believe in that shit.”
“I’m not a priest, Malori, I’m not worried about your immortal soul. I’m worried about your spirit here on earth. I’m worried about the physical and mental well-being of you, right now, and going forward. You’re twenty-three years old. You have so many choices left for your life, and I don’t want killing to be one of those choices.”
Malori’s spine snapped straight, and he nearly squeezed his bottle in half. “You don’t want? You aren’t my father, King, you don’t get a say in where my life goes from here.”
“Maybe I don’t get a say, but I can give a shit. And I do. The whole point of today was helping you channel your anger into something more productive than thoughts of revenge. I know I can’t take those thoughts away completely. You’ve been through too much for that to ever happen. But I see so much of me in you, Mal. I recognize the pain in your eyes. I don’t want you to have my life.”
Malori waved his hand around them. “You mean a two-story penthouse, more money than God, and the best security in the city?”
“Yes. Because all those things came with a price. This penthouse is twenty-one stories above the city, so far removed I can’t see individual people from my windows. We’re too high up for most birds to bother landing on the roof. The money buys security, because I have so many enemies I need to live up in the clouds. I could afford to take a cruise around the world, but I’d have to buy out the entire ship to let my guard down enough to enjoy it, because I’d be worried about one of the other passengers trying to kill me.”
“You have a private island. Go vacation there.”
King chuckled. “Well, I did have a private island. I don’t keep assets that are no longer secure.”
“Poor sad rich man.” Malori couldn’t believe the rude things popping out of his mouth, but he couldn’t seem to stop. King wasn’t rising to the bait. He seemed amused that Malori was challenging him, which irritated Malori to his core. King was sitting on both a mountain of wealth and a mountain of knowledge, hoarding resources like a dragon of myth, and Malori wanted in.
Not in on the money, but in on the knowledge. And if King wasn’t going to teach him what he wanted to know, Malori would find another source. “It’s not like I’ve never committed murder before.”
King’s smile faded, and his eyes narrowed. “You and Kensley both shot Decker.”
