Kingston reaches over and squeezes my thigh. “Are you done pouting so we can actually talk about what happened back there? I’ve gotta say, you handled that whole thing freakishly well. I was waiting for you to start panicking at any moment.”
I shove his hand off, still irritated with him. “Is it bad that I don’t feel upset about it? Like, at all? I mean, seeing him like that was disgusting .” I shudder. “But I was processing it with this odd sort of detachment. Like... I was watching a movie or something.”
He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “I can see that. As soon as I got over the sympathy pains, I kind of felt the same way.”
“What was Charles saying to you when I went to get my stuff?”
“He’s taking Madeline and Peyton to their house in Vail until the new year, to give this some time to blow over. Then, he suggested I do the same with you, which is when I told him about our trip to Disney. He added some, don’t disappoint me, son garbage, then he wanted to know how I planned to keep your mouth shut if you were difficult.”
“Oh, I’d love to hear how you responded to that.”
Kingston shrugs. “I kept it vague, but I basically implied that I would punish you into submission if necessary.”
I scoff. “I’d like to see you try.”
He smirks. “Hard pass. I prefer my balls intact, thank you very much.”
“Here’s my question. How did someone even get Lucas in Peyton’s room without being caught? He’s a big guy. And if Charles and Ms. Williams were in the house when that happened, how could they have not heard it? Lucas had to have been screaming bloody murder. Literally .”
“Your guess is as good as mine, but my first choice would be some type of fast-acting benzo or paralytic. The O-ring gag would’ve helped with the noise, especially if they shoved something else in Lucas’ mouth before feeding him his own dick.”
“Wow... it’s kind of scary how quickly you answered that question. And that you knew what type of gag they used.” I rub my temples, trying to figure out if I’m genuinely disturbed or turned on by Kingston’s deviant side. I think it’s a little of both. “I hate to say this, but I’m relieved he’s dead. I’m glad vengeance was served, Kingston. I feel sort of cheated that I didn’t get to witness his suffering. What the hell kind of person does that make me? I’m no better than the bad guys.”
“Fuck that,” he growls as he pulls his car into the garage and kills the engine. “I don’t ever want to hear you say something like that again. You’re nothing like any of those people.”
“How can you say that?” I challenge. “I wanted him dead. I’m happy he’s dead.”
Kingston grips my chin and turns me toward him. “Your feelings are one-hundred percent justified, Jazz. Lucas Gale severely beat, stabbed, and violated you. He attacked you multiple times . If someone didn’t show up to haul him off last night, he would have likely succeeded in raping you . There’s no way you were his only victim.
“I have no doubt that if Lucas were still alive, there would’ve been more women who suffered at his hands. Someone who behaves like that without conscience, and with such determination, is a goddamn psychopath. Lucas reminded me of our dads, which is why I’ve never liked him. Knowing he was the man behind the mask only proves that my instincts about him were spot on.
“You have one of the biggest hearts of anyone I’ve ever met, Jazz. You should never question who you are, especially because of this situation. People like Lucas Gale or our fathers don’t deserve your sympathy.”
“Maybe you’re right.” I sigh. “Maybe I’m just conditioned to believe violence is a bad thing, no matter what.”
“There’s no maybe about it.” Kingston shakes his head. “Hey, if nothing else, consider this one less problem we have to worry about. Merry Christmas to us.”
My lips curl up in the corners. “Merry-fucking-Christmas to us.”
Chapter 19
KINGSTON
“Merry Christmas Eve, baby girl.” Bentley swoops Jazz into a hug as he steps inside the pool house.
My eyes narrow when his hands slide a little too close to her perfectly heart-shaped ass. “Watch the hands, asshole.”
Bent laughs. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure, you don’t.” I swear to God, he does this shit to fuck with me on purpose.
“Bentley, stop antagonizing him,” Jazz chides.
Apparently, I’m not the only one who’s picked up on the fact that Fitzgerald’s a shithead.
“That’s okay, baby,” I call out. “The more Bentley pushes my buttons, the more I get to go caveman on your ass later.”
Jazz whacks Bentley’s chest with the back of her hand. “Now, you really have to stop. Kingston doesn’t need more incentive to revert back to his Neanderthal self.”
“All right, all right.” My dumbass friend holds his hands up. “I’ll be good.”
“We’ll see how long that lasts,” I grumble.
Bentley falls back on the couch. “When’s the food gonna be here? I’m starving.”
Jazz grabs the tray of cookies we grabbed from her work and sets it on the coffee table. We were planning to make some ourselves—I know, how domestic of us—but the whole abduction/murder thing happened, so we swung by the coffee shop.
“Munch on those. It shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“You’re the shiz, Jazzy.” Bentley grabs a stocking-shaped cookie and shoves the entire thing in his mouth at once. “These are de-lish-shess.” Crumbs fall out of his mouth as he speaks.
“Gross, Bent.” Jazz shakes her head as she pushes his feet off the table. “You couldn’t wait to say that until after you finished chewing?”
“Nope,” he says, still chewing, cookie crumbs still spewing out of his mouth.
I point at him. “You’re vacuuming that shit up before you leave.”
Bent looks between Jazz and me as he brushes his shirt off. “Sheesh, when did you two become such an old married couple?”
Jazz laughs, but I don’t find the humor in his statement, because I don’t see anything wrong with that.
There’s a knock on the door, so I answer it, grab the food, and give the delivery guy his tip. “Thanks, man.”
His eyes light up when he sees the Benjamin in his palm. “Oh, wow. Thanks so much. Merry Christmas.”
“You, too.” I nod.
Jazz and Bentley join me at the counter as I set out all of the cartons.
“Ainsley would shit bricks if she knew we were eating Chinese takeout right now.” Bentley snags a container and starts dumping its contents onto a plate. “Sweet! Orange chicken for the win!”
“Why?” Jazz gets this adorable little frown on her face. “What’s wrong with Chinese food?”
Jesus Christ, did I really just think my girlfriend’s frown was adorable? I check to see if my balls are still there. Jazz gives me a weird look but doesn’t ask why I’m grabbing my junk through my jeans.
“Nothing’s wrong with Chinese,” I assure her. “It’s awesome, and if we had our way, we’d order it every year.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
Bentley laughs. “Because Ainsley insists that we eat ham and all the fixings on Christmas Eve—which the place she orders from is the fucking bomb—but it’s no Chinese.”
“Have you guys ever tried cooking the meal?”
Bentley and I both laugh.
I swing my arm around Jazz’s shoulders and pull her into my side. “Uh... no.”
“Why not?”
Bentley points to me. “Because your boy is the only one of us who wouldn’t burn a pot of water, and there’s no way in hell he’s going to take hours to prepare a meal that’s wolfed down in a matter of minutes.”
“I know how to cook,” Jazz offers. “I’m pretty good at it, too. I helped my mom with Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner every year.”
“Davenport, you better put a ring on it before that shit gets out. If the dudes find out someone who looks as good as she does can cook, you’re fucked.”
I flip him off. “Very funny.”
Although... the ring idea isn’t so bad.
Shit. I am fucked.
Jazz reaches over me to grab a pair of chopsticks. “Okay, if you two idiots are done, let’s dig in.”
I use my finger to grab her belt loop and plant a kiss on her lips. “I love you.”
She smiles. “I love you, too.”