Savior (The Kingwood Duet #2)

My schooling.

My best friend.

Myself.

My baby.

Our baby.

Being in Alexander’s arms now I see how much I’ve gotten back, though some things will always remain lost in a past I’m trying to forget. It’s better that way, for all of us. I rest my head on his shoulder as he carries me down the dark hall and through the living room. Once in the bedroom, I’m set down on the bed and my feet dip under the blanket.

I settle back on the pillows and watch as he dotes on me. Pulling the covers up to my neck, he kisses my cheek. “Can I get you anything?”

“Oreos. God, what I wouldn’t do for some Oreos and milk right now.”

He laughs and I relish the joy running through me too much to worry about the pain. Bringing my hand to his mouth, he kisses it and then says, “Then Oreos you shall have. After you get some rest.”

The morning excursion wore me out and there’s more pain to get through before my next dosage, so I let my eyes give into the tiredness. The bed rise as he stands and walks across the room. I watch him. Even exhaustion won’t keep me from admiring him and that great ass he has. “Hey you.”

Turning back, he smiles. “Yeah?”

“Oreos are great, but I can live without them.”

“What’s the one thing you can’t live without, Firefly?”

“You, Alexander. Only you.”

He winks. “Good thing, because you’re kind of stuck with me.”

“Welllllll,” I say, rolling my eyes to further tease him, “if I had to be stuck with someone, I guess it’s okay to be stuck with you.”

“Well, me and Oreos.”

“My two favorite things.”

With the doorknob in hand, he says, “Get some sleep and dream about me feeding you cookies.”

“That might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever dreamed.”

“If you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll make your dream come true.”

“I’ll be the best girl ever for that.”

“Of that, I have no doubt. Love you.”

“I love you.”

I lie there with a goofy grin on my face, feeling so much better about everything that worried me before. He’s welcomed me back as if I’d never left him. He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen and treats me better. My fear that he’d lost interest while I was away has all but disappeared. Even my concern that he’d been too consumed with this impossible mission for answers has been eased. He’s still searching, but his focus seems to be where it needs to be right now. Relief washes through me.

Closing my eyes, I indulge my imagination. Alexander, shirtless with a plate of Oreos, just might be the most erotic image ever. I giggle, but then feel a coiling deep inside when memories of last night come flashing back. I survived a bullet, and refuse to allow it to cause me true pain. Yet resisting Alexander? Knowing that making love to him could physically hurt me? Careful is the last thing I’ll ever be with him.





14





Alexander



“I told you. Sara Jane called me, but I didn’t answer it—”

“Why not?” Brown asks from across the table. “Why would you not answer your wife’s call?”

“Have you answered every call your wife ever made to you?”

His belly shakes when he laughs. “I avoid her like the plague. If it’s not ‘get your ass home,’ it’s ‘stop at the store,’ so point taken.”

Langley cracks a smile.

I don’t.

Fucker.

Leaning in, Langley asks, “Chad Daughtry called you next, but you didn’t answer his call either. Why?”

“I rarely answer my phone. My friends know to text me. I’m not an overly chatty guy.”

“We’ve noticed,” Brown says. I hear the air leave through his nose as he looks down at the questions before him. “And Shelly Delano? She called next. Seems like a lot of people wanted to get hold of you.” He scribbles on a pad, mumbling to himself, “Avoided call.”

“I didn’t avoid her call.”

“True,” Langley replies. “You answered Ms. Delano’s call. Why?”

“Because she had never called me before, so I thought something had happened.”

“It had,” Langley says, tapping the eraser of a pencil on the metal table. He scratches his head. “What I can’t seem to figure out is how Ms. Delano knew something had happened.”

“She didn’t. She was calling—”

The top of Quincy’s hand presses to my arm. I stop talking, and my lawyer says, “It is not my client’s responsibility to answer why Ms. Delano called Mr. Kingwood. That would be a question for her to answer. Please move this along.”

The feet of Officer Brown’s chair come down from his tilted back angle and he leans forward, mimicking Langley’s position. I almost laugh. Short. Tall. Fat. Slim. Angry. Happy. I think this is where they start the good-cop/bad-cop act, or maybe that’s what they’ve been doing all along.

Brown says, “Picture this. A woman is somehow beaten and shot—”

“You’ll maintain respect for Mr. Kingwood’s wife, or we’ll end this discussion right now,” Quincy cuts in.

“It’s funny how you keep calling it a discussion,” Brown snarls. “A kid is dead and Mrs. Kingwood barely survived. I would think your client would be more than willing to help in any way that could lead us to the perp. Or maybe he has something to hide, maybe this doting husband bit was an act all along and we’ve been asking him the wrong questions.”

I’m on my feet, the metal chair falling backward. Slamming my palms flat in front of them, I play their game. “Act? Husband bit? Are you fucking accusing me of setting this up?”

Quincy is next to me, his hands pushing me to the side. “We’re done here.” He takes the back of my arm, forcing me to the door. Calling over his shoulder, he says, “If you have more questions, you can call my office to schedule a meeting.”

Just before the door shuts, Brown shouts, “The truth always comes out, Kingwood.”

Keeping my eyes down, anger rages inside me. Quincy whispers under his breath, “Keep walking and don’t look up.”

I look up to find a station of police officers staring at me. I should be used to it—the kid who became a billionaire overnight. Sensational in every way and then you add my connection to the attack on Sara Jane and Chad—I’m a detective’s dream come true. They’d love to take me down. To claim the headline and get a key to the city for bringing a criminal to justice. If only they had that kind of drive when it came to my mother’s death.

We walk out of the police station and to our cars, which are parked next to each other. I hear Quincy mutter, “They think they can treat innocent citizens like shit. Assholes.”

Innocent?

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