Page 189 of Wanted By a King

Zoe

“Areyousure?”Grayasks.

The look in his eyes implores me to say no, but I won’t. I can’t. It’s not that Iwantto go with him, Ineedit as much as I need my next breath.

“I have to,” I say, forcefully. “If this is the guy who raped and k-killed Sasha, I want to be there.”

The days where things were black and white, right or wrong, are long gone, obliterated. This is the second time my family has been attacked. First, it was my blood family. Second, the misfits who took me, but whom I’ve come to love and trust.

I refuse to be a fucking pawn in anyone’s sick games, especially the ones against those I love. So gone are the days of right and wrong. All that exists in my mind is a deep-rooted need for answers. For revenge. And for righting the wrong done to Sasha, to Slayer—to all of us.

Gray looks like he wants to argue with me. “What if I don’t want you there?” he asks, his tone bordering on scathing.

“You need to understand something right fucking now,” I say, jabbing my finger into the hard planes of his chest. “I saw what happened to Sasha, Gray. I keep reliving it in my head. If this is the guy who did it, there’s nothing you can do that’ll make me think less of you, let alone change how I feel.”

I don’t need him to spell it out to know that’s exactly why he doesn’t want me there while he tortures the Reaper the Kings captured after the attack.

“It’s not the same, Zo,” he tries again.

Shrugging, I look over at Cain and Rocco who are wearing matching smirks.

“Gray,” Rocco says. “She has a point. She’s in it whether you like it or not. The fuckers were looking for her, so it’s only fair she learns what we do.”

Huh, can’t say I was expecting Rocco to take my side.

“Easy for you to say,” Gray growls at his Prez. “Cara was born into this life, so you never had to make that choice.”

Clearing his throat, Cain raises his hand like he’s in fucking school. “Excuse me,” he says, innocently. “My wife wasn’t born into it, and I’d let her watch me crucify anyone if she asked.”

Gray pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t care about your bullshit marriage,” he roars.

Cain gasps, looking outraged. “It’s not bullshit. I got down on one knee, and… well, I was already down on one knee because I was—”

“Get to the point,” Rocco laughs.

“Right, yes. My point is that I asked her nicely. I even bought her a ring and said I do in front of a priest before I killed him. My marriage isn’t bullshit you dick.”

Ill-timed and nervous laughter spills from my lips. “Y-you killed a priest?” I ask Cain.

“I’ve killed many priests,” he dutifully replies.

“But the one who married you?” I ask, incredulously.

I don’t know why I’m questioning it. Even without knowing Cain, that seems exactly like the kind of thing he’d do.

“Nah,” he laughs, slapping Rocco on the back. “I got married in Vegas and the Elvis impersonator is very much alive. Good guy.”

“This is what I mean,” Gray says, throwing his arms out to the side. “I never know what’s true with you. Why wouldn’t I believe that your marriage is bullshit?”

Cain nods like it’s a fair point, and maybe it is. “Because I said it isn’t. And because I’m wearing this.” Holding up his hand, he points at the wedding band.

“Cain’s marriage hardly matters,” Rocco sighs.

The look he shoots Cain is one that has me wondering why the two of them are even friends, if that’s what they are.

“I’ll sit with her,” Cain suggests so abruptly I snap my head in his direction. “I once did the same for Dante with his girl, and look how they turned out.”

Gray shakes his head. “What?” he demands angrily.

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