Chapter Two
Two years and six months ago
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“Be right back, baby. You want another?”
I smiled up at Justin. “Please.”
He kissed my forehead and walked toward the bar across the room. I watched him go, enjoying the way he moved through the crowd, smooth and easy. In the last six months, I’d learned that he had that same athletic grace both in and out of bed, and he used it to his benefit. And mine.
When Justin was out of sight, I turned my eyes back to him. King Sloan.
Holding a squat glass in one fist, he watched me with hooded black eyes. Everything about him was dark; black eyes, black hair, and even the clothes he wore.
He was Justin’s best friend. Hell, my man told me he considered him like a brother when he introduced us.
I didn’t like King. One reason was the fact that I’d never heard of him before tonight. If he and Justin were so close, why was I only finding out about him now? Justin and I had been damn near inseparable for the past six months. He met my friends and most of my family, yet King’s name hadn’t come up once.
The other reason, a very large reason, was his wandering eyes. Currently he was eyefucking my chest, something he’d been doing covertly all night.
I didn’t like it and I’d had enough.
I snapped my fingers in front of his face, and his gaze drifted up from my chest to meet mine.
Crossing my arms over my breasts, mostly for protection, I leaned forward and hissed, “Stop it. Now.”
“Stop what, darlin’?” he drawled.
“Staring at me like that.”
He leaned forward too, putting our faces a few inches apart. Though I didn’t know him well, I recognized his type. Retreat wasn’t an option if I wanted him to show me an ounce of respect. If I backed down, King would run roughshod all over me.
So, I held my ground and spoke bluntly. “Keep your leering eyes off my body,” I growled. “I’m your best friend’s woman and, I gotta tell ya, you’re not much of a friend if you’re gonna stare at my chest like that.”
King’s black eyes hardened and his face took on an expression that scared the pants off me, but I clenched my teeth to prevent myself from giving that away.
Unflinchingly, I met his stare, even though his anger felt like a thousand pissed off bees stinging my skin. It burned, but I’d be damned if I reacted.
My bluff worked because the terrifying expression vanished from his face and he relaxed back into his chair, a small smile playing around the corner of his mouth.
“Now, I really wanna fuck you,” he rumbled, tossing back the rest of his whiskey.
My scalp burned as though my hair had caught fire from the force of my fury.
“WHAT?!”
“All that hair, those tits, and you’re a ball buster. It’s sexy as hell and I like it.”
My muscles went rigid with rage. He was fucking lucky my drink was empty or he would have gotten a face full of margarita. While I was controlling the urge to leap across the table and claw at his cheek with my nails, I wondered if any of the self-defense moves my cousin Tia taught me would be good for breaking his nose.
Instead, I decided I was done. Justin’s friend or not, no man spoke to me like that.
I stood up, kicking my chair back so hard it fell over with a bang. “It was really not nice meeting you, King,” I spat. “Let’s not do this again!”
Snatching up my purse, I didn’t even notice that every eye in the bar was on me or that the crowd parted before me as I moved through it.
Preoccupied with my furious retreat, I nearly ran head first into Justin on my way out.
“Jena, baby, what’s wrong?” he asked after taking one look at my face.
“I’m leaving,” I snapped, marching past him, pissed off at him and King and pretty much everyone on the planet.
Justin dumped the drinks on a nearby table and followed me out.
“What happened?” he asked, falling into step beside me.
“Why in the hell do you call him King? Raging asshole is a better fit!”
Justin released a bark of laughter and I stopped, whirling on him. “It’s not funny, Jay! He said he wanted to fuck me!” I shouted.
The smile disappeared from Justin’s face. “What?” Then he shook his head. “Jesus, he hasn’t changed,” he muttered.
“What does that mean?”
Justin grabbed my arms. “He was fuckin’ with ya, baby. Playing mind games. He didn’t mean it.”
“What?” I yelled, even angrier.
“King’s like that. He’s seen too many women kissing my face while their hands reached into my wallet. He pulls this shit as a test.”
“A test?” My voice was laced with disbelief, and my chest heaved.
“Yeah,” he answered, nodding. “He thinks of it as protecting me.”
That explanation calmed me down somewhat. But only a little. Justin had family money and a decent sized trust fund. I wouldn’t have cared one way or the other how much money he had. All I cared about was the way he treated me.
The way King went about it was messed up, but I was glad his friend looked out for him.
“Seriously?” I asked, my arms crossed.
Justin nodded. “King has a fucked up way of doing things, but it’s for the right reasons.”
I sighed because it made a convoluted sort of sense. “I’m still pissed, Jay,” I warned him.
“I’ll go tell him we’re leaving. You can wait in the car if you want. Maybe we can do this again after he apologizes…”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I didn’t say anything. I just wanted to get the hell out of here, not stand in the parking lot arguing about a complete douchebag that Justin considered his friend.
He handed me the keys. “I’ll be right back.”
Before he could take a step away, I grabbed his arm. Even though I was furious with King, there was something I was curious about.
When Justin introduced him, he’d shaken my hand, also holding it way too long, and said, “Just call me King.”
“Is King his real name?” I asked Justin.
“No.”
Although I wanted to know what his real name was, I knew now wasn’t the time to ask. Instead, I queried, “Why do you call him that?”
Luckily, Justin answered my unspoken question when he answered the one I said aloud. “His real name is Alaric.” He chuckled at my wince. “Yeah, it’s a shitty name. His mom chose it because it means king and she thought it was classy, so….”
“Got it,” I muttered. No wonder King was a dick. He probably faced teasing and bullies every day at school growing up.
“Go get in the car. I’ll be right back.”
Without waiting for me to get to the car safely, something that often bothered me when it came to Justin, he turned and went back inside the bar.
Quickly, I made my way to his Camaro and locked myself inside. As I sat waiting for him, I couldn’t stop thinking about King and the things he said to me.
I hoped I never saw the bastard again.
Chapter Three
Two years and five months ago
‡
I stared at the casket as it gradually disappeared into the ground. The wind was icy and biting as it hit my face and body, cutting through my coat and dress as though they were nothing.
I had no tears left. None.
The man I loved, the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with was dead. At twenty-eight, I felt like my world was ending.
He had been murdered. Carjacking gone wrong, the cops said. Justin wasn’t the type of man to just give someone his car, he would have put up a fight. So, they shot him in the face.
I didn’t like the idea of viewing the body of a deceased person, but I would have at least liked a chance to see him, hold him, and kiss him one last time before they put him in the ground.