Page 27 of Wanted By a King

There’s something in his eyes that I neither can nor want to decipher.

“Because you weren’t there,” I scream. I’m at the end of my tether, and I don’t have it in me to rein in my volatile and confusing emotions. “You were too busy demanding nudes from me to do your duty and protect us. While you were busy jerking off like a fucking adolescent boy, someone planned and executed an attack on my family.”

Rather than growing in volume, my tone gets lower. At the end of my tirade, I’m so drained all I want is to sleep. But I already know that a nap isn’t on the agenda. According to Grayson, today is a big day for the Cruz Kings. It’s one of the few times a year they do good deeds and coerce people into thinking they’re good people.

Fucking as if.

Much to my surprise, Grayson backs away and goes to sit down on my bed. All without me needing to say anything. Huh, that’s odd—as in really fucking out of character.

With a headshake, I banish all thoughts of his weird behavior. I already know that if I don’t, all the things he said while we were at the cabin will take root. And then fucking poof, bloom into something akin to hope and understanding.

Nope. Been there, done that. Read the sequel and bought the t-shirt in the giftshop. I’m never letting my guard down around him again. Come to think about it, it’s not just him. I can’t trust any of the Cruz Kings. The only two people I don’t feel animosity and complete distrust toward are Mama C and Alana. Though the former is on my shit list for punishing Grayson.

I meant what I said. If anyone has earned that right, it’s me.

Finding my usual Fourth of July outfit takes longer than I’d like, but I finally emerge victorious from the closet. I’m clutching a silk, white, strapless summer dress. The dress is kept together by dark blue ribbons at the back. They need to be tied almost like a corset, which means I’ll have to ask Grayson for help. Which I will, but there’s something else I need first.

“I need to shower,” I declare without looking at him. When I hear him shift on my bed, I hold my hand up. “Alone.”

He chuckles. “Is that so?”

I nod empathetically.

“Anything else I can get you, Princess?” he smirks before giving me a mock bow.

Refusing to smile at his antics, I spin on my heel. “Yes, actually. I need my phone back, and I’d also like to come back here once a week.”

“Is that it?” He sounds curious.

Irked he barely reacts at all, I continue. “No. I think I should get my own room if you expect me to stay at your… your… at your place.”

Words fail me as I look up and notice his amused expression. I narrow my eyes as I try to anticipate what he’ll say next. There’s no way he’s going to give into all of those demands. Just no fucking way.

Truthfully, I’m not expecting him to. All I meant to ask for was my phone and the chance to get back here for fresh clothing, water the plants that haven’t already died, and… I don’t really know. But just hanging out here for a bit would be nice.

“Okay.”

I gape like a fucking fish out of water. “Excuse me?” I ask, dumbfounded.

Grayson smirks. “I didn’t stutter, Princess. I said okay.”

The urge to argue is almost too much to contain, but somehow I manage. Knowing that if I stay in his presence, I won’t be able to help myself, I quickly run to the bathroom.

After locking the door, I place the clothes in my hands on one of the shelves. Then I undress and hurry into the shower. As soon as I turn the water on, I’m assaulted by memories from the last time I showered here.

I think it was when Grayson forced me to crawl from my bedroom, all to show one of his club brothers that he could handle me. I can’t remember if it was Slayer or Slasher, so for good measure I mentally add them both to my shit list.

Fuck, this list is starting to get long.

Grayson, Slasher, Slayer, Rocco, the nameless guy who attacked me at the clubhouse, the Cruz Cunts who dragged me up on stage, the ones who belittled me when I arrived at the clubhouse. And, of course, Mama C for punishing Grayson.

Then again, she’s also on my OMG-let-me-love-you-and-kiss-your-feet list. Along with Alana, she helped free me, so maybe I can overlook the slight… yeah, no. I chuckle as I rinse the shampoo from my long, blonde hair because I already know I’m going to say something to the club matriarch.

I quickly finish washing my hair and body, even managing to speed shave. As soon as I’m done, I wrap a towel around my wet hair, and another around my body. I’m honestly surprised Grayson hasn’t burst in here yet. Sure, the door is locked. But I’m not delusional enough to think that’s what’s keeping him out.

Rather than overthinking it, I open the closet and pull my essentials out. Hair oil, moisturizer, and face lotion. I work effectively, giving my body head-to-toe luxuries it hasn’t had for… shit, I’ve lost track of time. So much has happened in the short time I’ve been gone, making it feel like several lifetimes have passed.

Once I feel more like myself, I get dressed. Due to the design of the dress, I don’t usually wear underwear with it, and today is no exception. While looking in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, I perform the nipple test by running my fingers across the sensitive skin until it pebbles.

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