Page 36 of To Claim A King
“I have it,” she declared, her hands balling into tight little fists at her sides. “And it’s yours.”
An abrupt pounding at the door stole my attention. “Lauchlan, open this door before I—”
Gertie transformed from a hungry shark to a terrified mouse in a matter of seconds, high-pitched squeak and all. I tossed her a cheeky wink and nuzzled her to the rear of the sinks. “It’s alright, love. Nothing to be afraid of. I’ve just made a very grumpy bear a little angry.”
I unlatched the deadbolt and did as he asked, yanking open the steel door before he could break a fist through it. I knew it—I’d left my position, and he was pissed. Before he could tear my head off, I interrupted him.
“Conan, I say this with all the love in my heart—calm the feck down before you drop dead of a fucking heart attack.” I broke out into a toothy smile, waving my hand atthe woman who’d just given us a lifeline behind me.
“Besides, Gertie here is going to give us her Golden Ticket. Get ready, Kell-Bell, we’re going to Wonka’s!”
After another long day of planning, I made a light supper of salads and grilled chicken, much to Lucky’s chagrin, but the place setting we’d put out for our fourth partner went untouched as we waited for him to show up.
Kellan still quietly refused to sleep with us, despite the room in the Alaskan king-sized bed. I’d thought we’d put his demons to rest when he’d claimed me the other night, but if anything, it had turned the distance between us into the size of a small city instead of the 40,000-square foot warehouse where we kept ourselves hidden.
Several emotions warred across his handsome features this morning before I left for the office.He’d wanted to be my bodyguard, but couldn’t—his brothers had effectively put a target on both of our backs, and the opportunity to take both of us out at once would be far too tempting.
Nervous energy crackled through me as the night drew closer to midnight. Kellan still hadn’t come home. So much of our path forward was riding on tomorrow, and Kellan not communicating with any of us had given me an additional variable to worry about. I’d coddled his delicate disposition long enough—we were going to have to talk about this ridiculous distance and what it was doing to our family.
Our family. The word was foreign on my tongue. I didn’t have a healthy relationship with the concept, but I couldn’t think of a group of people in this world I’d grown closer to. We would succeed or fail together; the only way through was side by side. Kellan’s absence had only shown how much I wanted a group of people to call mine in every sense of the word.
I didn’t want to be Hillary Lane, billionaire heiress, alone and embittered. I’d demanded their loyalty from day one, but I could now recognize I craved their love—their devotion—far more.
I was brushing my teeth when footsteps echoed heavily along the wooden floorboards of the hallway. A wave of relief washed over me as I spit out my toothpaste and spun on my heel. I returned to the bedroom, where Lucky and Aaron had their heads bowed in quiet discussion while we all waited for our fourth before we went to sleep.
Kellan deserved to be free of the curse that plagued his family. He held my heart in his hands, and each step away from me tugged its strings taut. He was too noble to allow himself the pleasure of his own happiness. As long as his family was a threat to me, he’d never give me his heart. I needed him—his protection, his fierceness, the warrior housed within his skin. I would burn the world down around the four of us to keep him as mine.
As if summoned by my thoughts, his shadowy form appeared in the doorway, and the conversation in the room instantly dimmed. He’d pulled his thick blond hair back into a tight bun. The tendrils of frizz framed his forehead and hung into his haunted eyes. He wore loose black sweatpants and a blue hoodie, and a mostly empty duffle bag hung from his shoulder. Anxiety radiated off of him—the frenetic energy hit me like a ball of heat in the face, instantly curdling my stomach.
He rubbed a large palm over the short stubble of his beard and stared through the room, like he wasn’t really seeing us at all.
“Good, you’re all here.” The terse pronouncement was hesitant, drawn out, as if the words were painful to say. My curdling stomach revolted, pushing bile into the back of my throat. I wasn’t going to like what was coming.
“Aye,” Lucky agreed slowly, elongating the word with his Irish lilt. The cock of his head and slitted eyes told me I wasn’t the only one picking up on Kellan’s melancholy aura. Aaron’s stare remained passive, mildly expectant at best, his gaze never leaving the man’s large form.
“Right.” Our Viking’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat on a hard swallow. “Right,” he repeated, before heaving himself out of the doorway and stalking toward the small dresser on the other side of the bed. He opened the top drawer and removed a roll of cash, a few of the documents from the box of fake identities Aaron had secured for all of us, and a white opaque container. Then, he opened the bottom drawer, and emptied the contents—mostly clothing—into the bag.
“What are you doing?” I fought to keep my voice stable while I buried my panic into the barrel of bile. Under no circumstances could I look weak in his presence right now. He needed a calm, direct presence, not a shrieking, angry woman. I couldn’t make any promises.
He stood tall and still, keeping his back to us. In the dim light of the corner lamp, his shoulders rose and fell several times. The room remained silent as a tomb as we waited for him to explain. Turning on his heel, he faced us in stoic solitude, the stiffness in his jaw and clenching of fists by his side betraying the emotions warring inside his head.
“I’m leaving,” he announced. The two words hung in the air like a freshly tightened noose. “You need the best chance at safety, and I’m not it. Antonio’s going to kill me any day, and I’m not sticking around only to have you killed in the crossfire.”
He’s… leaving. My greatest fear, far more than Alvarez’s revenge or Antonio’s retaliation, was I’d lose the lifeline of these three men. The men who’d saved my sanity and protected my peace against their own gain. I was on a rollercoaster, sitting at the precipice with an unbuckled seat and a triple loop in front of me, untethered, and staring down the steep drop with the certainty I was about to die.
“Compañero.” Aaron’s words broke through the haze first. “This is unwise. It is best we stay together, no? We are all marked for death—you are not an exception here.”
“Right.” Lucky’s unusually grave tone belied the seriousness of the situation. “Three Musketeers, Kell-Bell. The most wanted men in Sequoia. Don’t leave out of fear for us, mate.” His voice dropped an octave, the next words coming out in a whisper. “We need you.”
I was mute, if only for a moment, as I gathered my thoughts while fighting the urge to vomit.
Kellan thought of himself as Atlas, holding the criminal world of Sequoia on his shoulders, and the pressure cracks were taking their toll on the beautiful stonework. We’d witnessed every sign of him breaking. Yet, I’d held on to hope he’d silently get over it and heal on his own. My choice to remain silent hadn’t given him breathing room at all. He was crumbling under the weight of it all, and determined to save us from the destruction’s aftermath.
But who would save him? Visceral fear flooded my hindbrain, tasting like battery acid on my tongue. If Kellan left tonight, where would he go? Who would protecthim?
What did I have to say to keep him? My instinct was to pick a fight—goad him into anger and challenge him to stay out of spite. The icy determination in his stiff stare told me that was the wrong move on the board—pushing him farther would achieve just that. It would justify his actions, as if he had to be the adult in the room to protect the spoiled billionaire princess. I was no princess, but Kellan continued to think I needed coddling like a delicate paper doll.
After years of relentless push and pull with this brute of a man, I was tired of playing coy. Our gigantic egos and pervasive pride were going to be the death of something that had the potential to be beautiful between us. I didn’t want to fight him. I wanted to—neededto—love him,finallylove him. To shield him as he shielded me. We would face the music beside him, whatever notes the band played.
