“And with pizza, no less,” the man said with a sarcastic, heavily annoyed laugh. “You get treated fucking better than some of the dogs in the King’s Men.”
He went silent, like he was expecting me to say something. I just kept my mouth shut, half out of fear, half out of complete uncertainty as to what to say. But every moment of silence that passed made me more and more convinced that if I didn’t say the right thing, it was going to be my head rolling and not the pizza box.
“Tell me, you’re the wife of that asshole.”
“Which asshole?”
“Asher.”
I gulped. So they knew a lot about us. Granted, we never hid our relationship, but for as much as Ash tried to keep us out of the eye of his club…for as much as he’d told me to stay away so they wouldn’t find out…
“Who are you?”
The man stepped closer to me. I could now see his eyes. Angry, haunted, sad, even. But not anything that would suggest things would end well for me.
“I am Crush, the sergeant at arms of the King’s Men,” he growled. “I am the one that inflicts the pain when the point doesn’t get made. And you…”
I waited to get hit. I wanted for the pain that he spoke of to come.
But…
Nothing did.
He looked almost conflicted as he looked at me. I looked back down, fearful prolonged eye contact would trigger him. But I couldn’t help but keep looking at him, and he seemed more and more conflicted.
“You don’t want to hurt me.”
It was the wrong choice of words. Crush grabbed a chair and threw it with stunning ease against the closest wall. It nearly bounced off and hit me.
“Oh, bitch, I most certainly want to hurt you,” he said. “If I hurt you, I hurt the Black Reapers. And after the last few years, nothing would make me happier than hurting the Black Reapers.”
He towered over me. He could have easily kneed me in the face as he could have taken another step. I closed my eyes and braced for impact.
But nothing came.
I didn’t open them for several seconds, convinced that this was just a cruel trick to get me to open them so I’d feel the full impact of a strike. But when I finally did…
Nothing happened.
In fact, Crush had backed up a couple of feet, but he’d done so very quietly.
“Fortunately for you,” he said, “I’m not the one tasked with hurting you right now.”
He headed to the door. I couldn’t help the next question that came out.
“And who is?”
Crush turned to me with a stare that frightened me, not because of how menacing or wicked it looked, but because even he seemed scared.
“Someone you don’t want to see,” he said before mumbling, “someone I don’t want to see.”
King.
But before I could say his name, Crush slammed the door shut on me, leaving me alone.
I was left with the slimmest of hopes and the biggest of worries. If Ash didn’t know where I was, I was fodder for the King’s Men. And as much as Crush might have shown mercy just now…
Disobedience or ignorance could only last so long before he’d take the more violent, obedient route.
