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A tear slides down her cheek, I catch it with a blood-caked finger, and I kiss her again as I lose complete control resting in her, finding my home.

“You’re mine,” she says as another tear slides to the desk.

My movements are slow, my hips thrusting in movements that feel like the salty waves taking us over.

She comes up to meet me in another kiss. My hands move around her holding her tight against me as she gasps into my mouth.

I may not have understood why when I was in this office when my dad made his final commandment.

I do now.

I get it now.

I finally get what it means to sacrifice, to do the hard thing, and hope in the end that it’s the right thing.

She clings to me the way I cling to her. We stay on that desk sweaty, bloody, exhausted.

Full.

And for the first time since hearing my dad may not make it—I smile.

Chapter Forty-Two

“Ready my knights for battle. They will ride with their king once more. I have lived through others for far too long. Lancelot carried my honor, and Guinevere, my guilt. Mordred bears my sins. My knights have fought my causes. Now, my brother, I shall be... king.” —Excalibur 1981

Del

I have to shower after that, and lucky me, I get to shower with the guy who had me in such a hot twisted mess that we needed to use his shirt to clean up between my thighs.

No regrets.

He very confidently walks me through the house; we only see Maksim, who grins and holds up his hand for a high five while I hold my sweats against me.

King, of course, gives him a high five reminding me that yet again, these guys are young, so young, just like me, but they get it.

They know the balance.

That’s good parenting.

Of course, I would think that before having King wash up and down my body, his mouth goes to my breasts again, and I want more; I need more.

Fingers dance along my skin as he washes me.

My mind’s completely unlocked, completely his, just like my heart, his hands move to my waist again, my wet hair sticking to both his chest and my cheeks.

I feel his smile against my mouth as his tongue dives in. He tastes so warm, so perfect, and now that I’m fully his, now that I’ve made my choice, I wonder why it was so hard in the first place.

I’m so distracted by his mouth that I don’t hear the door open to the bathroom until a knock sounds on the counter. “Not like I want to interrupt your loud shower sex…” the voice says.

King gently sets me on the tile; it’s not like anyone can see us through the thick glass and partial rock wall. “What is it?”

“It’s time.”

King lowers his head. “You have him?”

“It’s our only lead. Our only choice.”

King nods and shares a look with me. “I’ll be right out.”

He’s serious now, all business.

“Who?” I grab his arm. “Who do you have?”

“Ash.” Is all he says. “I have Ash.”

“What?” I nearly yell it. “What the hell do you mean you have Ash?”

“Let me deal with it.” His eyes are pained. “It’s all I have—he ran out a few days ago, and we pinged the signal; it was the same restaurant my parents were at, where Nixon was at, so what the hell am I supposed to do? He’s not supposed to be shadowing them or guarding, so what other choice do I have?”

“But to torture him.” My hand falls. I feel sick to my stomach. It can’t be Ash. It just can’t be.

“Yeah.” His voice rasps then repeats, “What other choice do I have?”

My head snaps up. “Me. Use me.”

“What?” He turns off the shower and grabs a towel wrapping me in it before walking out naked.

At least Valerian just looks bored next to Maksim as they stand there and wait for me and King to stop talking.

I see someone else outside the bathroom all bandaged up and do a double-take when I realize it’s Roman, and he looks like he just got in a car wreck.

“It makes no sense,” I say for the millionth time. “You keep saying that, so why does it make no sense? Because it doesn’t! Someone’s setting you guys up trying to divide you. That’s what makes sense.”

“Also makes sense that it’s Ash.” Maksim shrugs. “Sorry, bad timing. I love him, but…”

“Ignore him,” Valerian says through clenched teeth. “Look, I don’t have the answers, and could you please give her a bigger towel?” He looks respectfully away.

King grabs another nearby towel and covers me even more.

I’m frustrated.

Irritated.

There has to be an answer.

Normally if my dad, you know, wasn’t dead and had actually been a good person, I’d go to him, ask some questions.

Only a truly horrible person would actually do something so—


Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Mafia Royals Crime