Page 45 of The Kingpin's Omega Lover
Malori climbed out of the pool and wrung out the t-shirt he’d worn into the water, unwilling to show off the scars on his torso. King didn’t blame him, even though most weren’t visible from a distance. He padded over and accepted a towel from King. Dried his face and wrapped the towel around his shoulders. Sat on the lounge opposite King’s with a funny look on his face.
“Are you all right?” King asked.
Malori pulled the towel tighter. “I think I, um, need to use the facilities.”
“The showers and toilets are over there.” He pointed.
“I know, but something from lunch is sitting weird. I don’t want to, uh, in a public toilet.”
King nodded, understanding that dilemma. “I can go upstairs with you.”
“You don’t have to bodyguard me, King. It’s an elevator ride in a highly secure building. Do you really think I’ll be able to take a comfortable shit knowing you’re waiting around for me to finish?” Malori flushed and ducked his head.
“Okay, but at least take Hartford with you. Garvey is scheduled to come on-shift in five minutes. I’ll feel better knowing you aren’t alone, even on a short elevator ride.”
“Okay. Not that I’ll feel any better about Hartford hanging around while I take a shit.”
“If you think about it, it’s happened before, but it’s never actually crossed your mind until now.”
Malori opened his mouth then closed it. Huffed. “True. I really don’t want to give it anymore thought. I need to get upstairs.”
King waved at Hartford, who left his tablet on the table and walked over. “Malori needs to go upstairs for a little while. Please, go with him, and then return when he’s ready.”
“Of course,” Hartford replied. “What about you, boss?”
“Garvey is on his way in. We’ll be fine for five minutes.”
Hartford nodded. Malori blotted his clothes one more time, then left his towel on the lounge and headed out. King watched them disappear before texting Garvey the slight change of plans. Garvey acknowledged the text within seconds, and said he’d be there in three minutes or less. King smiled at his phone; hekept these men close for a reason. Reliable, loyal, respectful, and early.
In the pool, Bishop and Kensley were slowly drifting around in the water, speaking too softly to hear, too far away to even try and read their lips. King raised his phone and snapped a picture of them. Looked at it. Light glinted off the water droplets on Bishop’s face, and Kensley’s smile radiated peace. They were the perfect embodiment of joy, love, and hope.
Garvey arrived, paused to assess everyone’s positions, and then took over Hartford’s spot at the table. King adjusted the rolled towel behind his head, tempted to lower his lounge and close his eyes, possibly take a brief nap. But he hadn’t fallen asleep in a public place in as long as he could remember; a little chlorine in his eyes wasn’t going to make him drop his guard.
Dropping your guard got you killed.
He checked emails on his phone. Listened to a message from Ziggy that had come over two minutes earlier—nothing on the second disc. King expected it, of course, but he was still disappointed. Ziggy was looking at every detail in both videos of the nursery to try and find any clues, and he’d report back soon.
The pool doors opened, and a pair of young women entered, both wearing thin covers over their bikinis. They went to the opposite side of the pool from King’s family. Garvey clocked them, as well, much more subtly than King.
His phone said Malori had been gone for eleven minutes. Nothing worrisome. Sometimes nature took its time. He still texted Hartford, who replied that he was in the penthouse lobby waiting.
At the twenty-minute mark, and with the same response from Hartford, King’s hackles went up. He trusted Hartford, but something wasn’t right. He said to text King as soon as Malori appeared and wished to return to the pool. King then told Garvey to stay and keep an eye on Kensley and Bishop, and thathe was going up to the penthouse for a minute. Garvey nodded and kept pretending to read his tablet.
He texted Malori’s phone, more out of habit than because he assumed Malori had it on him, or would reply before King arrived at the penthouse. Many years of negotiations and tense situations kept King from pacing the elevator on the long ascent. Hartford was seated on the lobby’s bench, angled toward the elevator, and he stood when King stepped out.
“Boss?”
“Stay here,” King said. “Don’t panic, I’m checking on Mal. It’s been a while.”
“Yes, sir, it has, but I didn’t want to disturb him.”
“It’s fine.”
King checked his private bathroom first. Empty. Annoyance rising, he looked in every bathroom on both floors, plus Malori’s old bedroom, the exercise room, the office, and the kitchen.
Malori wasn’t in the penthouse.
He took the stairs to the rooftop terrace. “Malori!”
