Page 71 of Claimed By a King

“Gray,” Zoe whispers before spinning to face Alana. “Please tell me he wasn’t in pain when he died. That it was quick, and he didn’t suffer.”

Alana’s eyes go round, her gaze darting to me in question as my own eyes turn to slits.

“What do you mean?” Alana asks, returning her focus to Zoe. “Gray isn’t dead, Zoe. He’s right there.”

She points in my direction, and a choked sob escapes Zoe as she shakes her head frantically, too.

“No. No. No. They must have drugged you, too. That’s not Gray. That’s Gunner.”

Alana’s face pales, her lips dropping open to form an O as she slowly drags her gaze from Zoe to me.

“No. Zo. You’re mistaken. Gunner was the one that died. He’s not here.”

Nodding frantically, Zoe starts pacing in front of Alana, her gaze darting from me to the floor, to Alana, and back to repeat the process again.

“It’s hard to believe I know.” Zoe points to me, a look of sheer disgust morphing her expression. “You had us all fooled, didn’t you?”

“Zoe, that’s not Gunner—”

“Stop!” Zoe sneers at Alana, cutting her off.“He told me all about it one night when he held my head into his mattress with one hand and used his fucking beard ring to brand my shoulder blade as he raped me.” She scoffs and all the air leaves my lungs. “The Reapers tracked down a long-lost sibling from his dad’s side he didn’t know about, kidnapped him and held him until the time was right,” she laughs then, still shaking her head, but there’s no humor tothe sound, “and then killed him right before Gunner staged the explosion, leaving his long-lost sibling in his place to burn and leave his DNA. They were the same height and build and everything.” Her eyes snap back to me. “Isn’t that right?”

Fuck. She really thinks I’m Gunner. She thinks I’m actually dead. And she admitted that Gunner raped her.

Primal rage unfurls from me as I spin and slam my fist into the wall.

One hit isn’t enough, so over and over I abuse the fucking plaster, not once feeling my skin split open as I hammer my way through to the other side.

Screams fill the air as rough hands grip my shoulders and arms, trying to force me to stop. I see nothing but Gunner’s face as I lay into anything that gets in my way, and it’s the slam of a door and the change of light in the room that drags me back to reality enough to see I’m no longer in my bedroom.

“Calm down, brother!” Slasher gets in my face, his hands on my upper arms, as he gives me a shake.

“You heard what she said. What he did to her,” I snarl and Slasher’s dark eyes pierce mine as he nods, before pressing his forehead to mine.

“I fucking heard. I fucking heard it all, but she needs you right now, man. You gotta stay calm.”

“She doesn’t even think I’m me!” I bellow, and he nods.

“Give her time. They’ve obviously been playing mind games with her. She doesn’t know what’s real and what isn’t right now. But she will. You just gotta be patient.”

My shoulders sag as I accept the truth he’s telling me.

One minute, she was at the Reapers’ Devil’s Night, physically fighting against Irina, something Zoe isn’t accustomed to having to do. Then she was tumbling down a fucking steep incline into a dark forest, only to wake up in a car with three dark shadows restraining her.

No wonder her reality is out of whack.

Drawing back from Slasher, I turn to see my apartment filled with crying Cruz Cunts and my men looking fucking forlorn. Everyone is here, and they just witnessed that.

“So Gunner is alive?” Rose dares to ask as my eyes pass by her, and I know her courage to ask while I’m so fucking highly strung stems from her fear of the man I thought was my best friend.

“Yes.” I nod, addressing them all. Well, all but Alana and Zoe who are still shut away in my bedroom. “Gunner is still alive. It seems he was our rat, working with the Reapers the whole fucking time.”

“But… Why? It doesn’t make sense.” Rose asks the question we all want to know the fucking answer to.

“I don’t know the details yet, other than Gunner is now the Reapers’ VP, and I’m pretty sure he claimed Zoe as his Old Lady.”

Whimpers and gasps sound throughout the room, and I squeeze my lids shut for a moment, digging fucking deep for some calm so I don’t fly off the handle again.

When my lids snap open, I find Munroe there with a wet towel, holding it out to me.

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