King barks a laugh and tightens her hold on me. "Touché,Shadow."
We go through the same spiel whenever we see each other. And if I'm honest, I need it today. Besides Lilly and Rhys, Kingsley "Monroe" Sheats is my closest and sole friend.
When she showed up on the playing field four years earlier, I didn't trust her. I would even go so far as saying I would've shot her on sight if she so much as lifted a finger toward Lilly the day we met. She was the enemy. Fast forward to now, and I'd eliminate anyone who tries to harm her or her family. I misjudged her—a fact I can admit.
Lilly had me follow King before I escorted her back to Montana, and I quickly learned that she was dealt every shitty card life had to offer—similar to my upbringing. She was a fighter, though. No matter how often she was pushed to the ground—face first—she would get up, flip fate off, and keep going. Something I didn't learn until it was too late. I had let the darkness consume me until I was no more than a bruised shell unable to feel. Something I will regret for the rest of my life.
Nothing brought King down, which was one of the reasons I was drawn to her. I saw part of myself in her, other parts Iwantedformyself. We helped each other in ways not many could relate to, which was probably also why she asked me—over Kiwi, her childhood best friend—to be her daughter's godfather. It was the second time in my life I had tears in my eyes that were not caused by physical—
"Where is Nugget?" I inquire in order to divert my thoughts before diving further into the black hole this week has ripped open. She used to call her daughter Nugget before she was born and had a name: Haddie. I continued the habit.
I wrap my arm around King's waist and look up at her. Warmth expands behind my rib cage as she smiles and leans her temple against the side of my head. A sense of peace settles in me, my muscles uncoiling for the first time since boarding the jet. I should've sought her out sooner, but I've been avoiding everyone. Today is Audrey's first birthday party, though, and I have to make an appearance.
Wes scans the area, and when he finds his wife, he focuses back on their little wannabe war play. He didn't condone King's friendship with me in the beginning. I never figured out if his possessiveness was out of fear of losing her (again) or because he saw me as an actual threat. The woman is sex on legs, no point in denying that, but she's never done it for me. Plus, a blind person could see that she's only ever had eyes for his ass. So, he quickly changed his tune. These days, we hang out when I am in Stonebriar, and King has class or is working at The Grizz.
I probably should consider Wes a friend. A distant one. My hesitation simply lies in not letting people—
"She's passed out in the west wing living room," King interrupts my internal self-psychoanalysis.
My spine stiffens, and I sit forward, ready to push out of my chair—dropping her in the process if necessary. "Who is watching her?"
She puts her beer on the table next to us and guides my face to hers with two fingers. When she has my full attention, she says, "Heather is inside. Audrey is taking her nap in the Pack ’n Play next to Haddie."
There is no humor in her statement. Besides George, King is the one other person I've let in on my past—why, this week, each year, I go off the deep end. And why I ama bitoverprotective of my four-year-old goddaughter.
The spike of adrenaline fizzles out. I cover my mouth with the fingers not required to hold on to my bottle, and I sink back. "Fuck, Monroe. I hate you sometimes."
Haddie is safe with Rhys's mother. Everything is fine.
She pulls my hand down and covers it with hers. "How are you holding up?"
Her head is turned, not making eye contact. We're both following the still ongoing water fight.
If anyone else were to ask that question, I'd say,"Fine."
"I don't want to be here,King." I only ever use her first name when we're serious. And even then, it has to be a near life-and-death situation.
In my peripheral vision, I notice her curl her lips under. She remains mute for so long that I assume she won't respond.
"What do you need from me?" If she wasn't married and if I were to feel anything beyond sisterly/best-friend affection for her, I would have had my cock in her a long time ago. But that's all she is: my best friend.
Before I can stop myself, I growl, "Keep Keller away from me." Just speaking her name makes my internal temperature rise.
King sighs. She knows why I am the way I am, but my hate for Denielle Keller… That's the one secret I have not divulged to her. Once more, she proves to me why we are this close. Most women would push and nag until they got what they wanted. Solve the big mystery. Not Monroe.
"Okay." After a pause, she adds, "Why don't you and Wes take Haddie on a hike tomorrow? She loves when you boys have your little outdoor excursions."
I smirk. "Outdoorexcursion? Big words, Monroe."
"Fuck you," she huffs and snuggles closer as we witness how Kiwi dunks Rhys with a battle cry resembling a hoarse hyena. We both crack up as the four boys disappear under the surface.
My amusement, however, gets stuck in my throat as the person who shall not be named exits through the patio door, and my arm involuntarily puts King's waist in a vise.
"Owww," she hisses.
A little overtwo weeks ago, I was waiting for Rhys to show up for our five a.m. training session in the gym when Lilly marched in instead. Her initial determination dissipated before she opened her mouth and stabbed a verbal icepick into my eardrum. "Den's going to stay with us." She hollowed out her cheeks and scanned my face.
Everything halted—my heartbeat, my motion to grab one of the training pads off the shelf. I couldn't move. I didn't know how long I stood there before time snapped back into place, and my pulse began to thrash through my veins.