Savior (The Kingwood Duet #2)

“If it’s not, my family is more fucked-up than I thought possible.”

“Everyone’s family is. Anyway, you aren’t your family, King.”

I take a deep breath. “God, he took her at seventeen. What the hell?” Even I waited until Sara Jane was eighteen, and I loved her. Fuck. Why am I comparing the two of us? My life is so entangled with Sara Jane’s that sometimes I look in the mirror and I see her reflected back. You would think that would be enough to keep me from doing some of the shit that’s gone down.

“Interesting how that struck a nerve with you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’re blinded by her innocence.”

My laughter feels maniacal, but it’s soiled in disgust, an emotion I feel more often when thinking about my life. “I stole that a long time ago.”

“I meant she’s na?ve. She lives in her head, in this fantasy that you are actually good for her.”

“She sees who I want to be for her.” God, my mind won’t stop spinning.

“You’re not built that way. King is right. You’re meant to reign. Now that your father is gone, you are in power, but will that power destroy her like it did Chad?”

“Her heart is strong. That’s all I need.”

Her laughter rings out. “You’re both fools if you think you can survive each other.”

“Shelly, what the fuck—?” She hangs up on me just as the front door opens and Cruise and Jason walk in, stopping when they see me in front of Chad’s computer swearing. Jason smirks. Asshole. I think about calling her back, but decide there’s no use. Fucking hell.

“King?” But I can’t answer Cruise, not when the fucker Jason is looking at me like that.

“Got a problem, Koster?” I ask, not taking his bullshit tonight.

“Not a damn one,” he replies with a chuckle.

“Apparently, you do.”

“You know what? I don’t, but you do. Let me give you some advice. You should get a hold of your anger, or you’re going to lose everything and everyone that matters, including the one thing you’re fighting for in the first place.”

“I didn’t start this for Sara Jane.”

“But she should be the reason to end it.”

“Why should I listen to you?”

“Call my advice a courtesy, but your girl, she’s worth more than continuing whatever you’re doing.”

“You don’t know anything—”

“I know your anger has built to the point of combustion. I’m trying to remind you what’s on the line to lose.”

“Mind your own fucking business.”

With that cocky-ass grin on his face, he says, “I’m paid to mind yours these days.”

“Why the hell are you still here?” Looking to Cruise, I ask, “Why the fuck is he still here?”

Jason responds, “I don’t want to miss the show.”

“Show?”

“The one where you self-destruct, and I swoop in to save the girl.”

I can’t say not over my dead body because that’s not outside the realm of possibility. I roll my eyes. This is bullshit.

I’m not sure if Sara Jane is the reason he stays or if the money is the only thing he sees these days. But as he walks down the hall to his room, I ask the question I’ve always wondered, “Can I trust you, Koster?”

“With your life.” The door slams behind him.

I should go to bed, but my mind reels. How many more buried Kingwood secrets will I find? My grandfather was listed as April’s next of kin, which makes absolutely no sense. She must have meant my father, but something doesn’t sit right with this new detail.

And thinking about what Koster said, his advice is solid. I don’t want to lose Sara Jane again. She trusts me to not hurt her. Lies do damage. I’m still pissed at Jason—he’s an asshole—but a guy I thought was my enemy just may turn out to be a friend and the ally I need.





25





Sara Jane



Alexander is in deeper than I thought, and I don’t think I can pull him back from those depths. My anger makes me wonder if I should try. Thinking back to a conversation we had earlier, I meant what I said. His darkness doesn’t scare me. Neither does his temper . . .

“My life for yours, Alexander, and yours for mine.”

“This isn’t a fairy tale, Firefly. This may not end with a happily ever after.”

“Not all fairy tales have a happy ending.”

“We’re defined by the decisions we make when given options.” His anger gets the best of him and he roars, “Well you should get the happy ending, little girl.”

He turns away from me and walks down the hall. Closing the door, I know he needs the quiet, needs to be alone, and needs space to think. When push comes to shove, he refuses to shove back when it comes to me. But I can handle the truth. I don’t need Prince Charming, a glass slipper, or a white horse. Those won’t save me from the depths I’ve fallen for him. Which is why I have to keep him present, his mind off the bad so he can see all the good that remains. I will be strong enough for the both of us. I will be his mighty Firefly.

. . . I’ve packed a suitcase and filled two boxes at my apartment. There’s no need to continue paying rent for a place I never go to or stay at anymore. The manor may not be my idyllic place to live, but Alexander is all the shelter I need. Even if he’s currently mad, I know it won’t last. He’s not used to being challenged by anyone, much less me. That’s something he’ll have to get used to.

I’m in the kitchen getting my favorite mug from the cabinet when the door opens. “Shelly?”

Shelly scowls. “What the hell are you doing here?” The door slams behind her and she starts for her bedroom.

Desperate to talk, to connect to my best friend, I ask, “I understand why you’re mad at me, but I don’t want to lose you.”

She stops just outside her door, her head lowered, and sighs. I see the debate in her body language, the way she shifts as if she’s giving in to something she doesn’t want to, but does it anyway and turns around. “When you were warned by me and your parents that King was bad news, did you listen? No, you didn’t. If you had, Chad would still be alive. But it’s never about anyone but you, is it, Sara Jane? I think deep down you were playing the victim long before that attack. The one who was taken advantage of by the big bad wolf. I think you like people to believe you’re innocent. You’re not. Chad’s blood is all over your hands.”

“Shelly. Stop.”

“Stop?” She laughs, not amused. “Did you really tell me to stop?”

“I’m asking you. Nicely. Please. Please don’t do this. We’ve both lost enough already.”

Her raised voice startles me, “What have you lost? You’re the queen of fucking everything.”

I’ve lost so much . . .

My baby.

Part of my liver.

Chad.

Almost my life.

I can’t get into that now or I’ll break down. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about King. I’m talking about more money than you know what to spend it on. I’m talking that mansion, and everything you’re given while the rest of us made sacrifices.”

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