Page 102 of Her Vengeful King

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I whip my head around to her. “What?”

″Valium.”

″You’re taking pills? Christ, Haley. What happened to not wanting to be like your mother? Where did you even manage to get them?”

Her jaw drops as I turn on the tall lamp across the room. She tosses back the comforter, getting up hastily and stomps toward me. “You haven’t a clue what the fuck I’m going through.”

″Don’t I? I just killed a man for you. Meanwhile, you’re getting high on pills and mixing them with liquor. I hoped you were doing better without me.”

She snorts, shaking her head. ”I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol until today. Not even my typical wine with dinner in weeks. Your little slut on the plane knew who I was. She brought it on board with her. As far as I’m concerned you should be the one to blame. My pills were prescribed by a psychiatrist who knows damn well about my issues with alcohol and my mother’s pill abuse.”

My eyes dart back and forth between hers, searching for the truth. That flight attendant was supposed to be fired and barred from ever setting foot on our plane. The jet may be owned by the family, but we outsource the employees.

″She wasn’t supposed to be on the flight. And I told them no alcohol. Whoever is responsible will have their consequences,” I say.

″I need to hydrate and rest,′ she huffs. “Between the jet lag and the substance abuse, I feel clouded. Can we talk tomorrow?”

″Of course. Lay down and I’ll get you some water and ibuprofen.”

Haley turns around, heading for the bed as I leave the bedroom to find a first aid kit with medication. When I return, she’s passed out, curled in fetal position with her mouth open and her hands tucked under her cheek.

I force her awake so she can take the medicine with a sip of water, then head for the bathroom to shower. I want nothing more than to curl up beside her, but first I need the scorch of hot water to burn my crimes from my body.

I may be the devil, but I still have a conscience. Jason Parkin’s death is by my hands and I know that. I’m at terms with it as well as every other one of my kills. But something inside me needs to be able to sleep at night. And the spray of the shower makes that a little bit easier.

Chapter thirty-eight

Drinkingontheplanewas the dumbest fucking thing I could have done. I knew that when I took that first sip, and I know it now, as my head slices in two. I wince, rubbing my temple.

Freshly showered and changed, I glance toward the bed, Callum still asleep. I’m not sure how I managed to climb out of bed and shower with a raging hangover while he continued to sleep. Callum’s a light sleeper, and on a normal day, he’d have woken the second my feet hit the floor.

I guess murdering a child molesterreallytakes it out of him.

I tip-toe to the door. I should be able to catch a flight from Seattle to Napa Valley before he realizes I’ve left, if I’m stealthy enough.

As much as I know I can’t tell Andi what the fuck happened last night, or even what happened with Kirkland, I need my best friend. And I need to hold her sweet little girl in my arms. Hugs from Charlotte always have a way of making me feel like everything is right in the world.

My hand presses against the doorknob when I hear his gravelly voice penetrate my ears. “Where are you going?”

″Home.”

″The jet isn’t ready yet,” he says.

I roll my eyes, jaw tight as I turn on my heel. “Not to Boston. To Andi.”

″What? Why?” He climbs out of bed, stomping towards me, and I don’t move. I can’t move. His presence is too much for my sex-deprived brain to handle.

″You think that I’ve just forgiven you and all is well?” I ask.

″I don’t have to think anything. You sure kissed me last night like you forgave me.”

″I was high and drunk. I’m thinking much more clearly now. And murdering a man who groomed me is not going to excuse the fact you’re a controlling asshole who thinks he can do whatever.”

He steps back, his jaw dropped. His hand smacks his forehead so dramatically that it’s almost impossible to refrain from the massive eye roll that wants to escape. “What are you going on about, lass? Control you how?”

″Are you forgetting that you refused to let me in on what the fuck is going on with the Russians? That you wanted to hold me hostage in your penthouse? You refused to fuck me when I came on to you. You denied me my sexual needs and told me I couldn’t go back to work. You, Callum Murphy, are not my fucking keeper.No onecontrols me.”

I run my hand through my hair and roll my shoulders in an attempt to shake off the rage fluttering through me, then reach out to touch Cal.Men are so fucking stupid!My finger digs into his bare chest, and I ignore the desire to kiss him. He doesn’t get sweet Haley today. “I don’t want you. I don’t want to be around you. Last night changes nothing between us.”


Tags: A.N. Stauber Erotic