I roll out of bed, joints popping, and catch sight of my reflection in the full-length mirror mounted on my closet door. I look like shit. Dark circles frame my eyes, one cheekbone isshaded purple, and dried blood crusts my split lip which refuses to heal. I look less like a King and more like something dragged up from the grave. I suppose the effect is the same either way– people stay the fuck away.
Breathe. You’re in control.
I wrench open the closet door, drag on a black t-shirt and jeans, and yank a hoodie over my head to keep the world out. Shove my laptop into my backpack. I’m out the door a second later, already coiled tight enough to snap at the first idiot who crosses my path.
The kitchen is a crime scene of dirty dishes and abandoned beer bottles– a testament to how fucking messy everything’s gotten around here lately. Wes is perched on the counter, legs spread, scrolling his phone with one hand while shoveling dry cereal into his mouth with the other. Ford’s slouched at the table, arms folded behind his head, staring out the window at the hazy, piss-soaked morning like he’s got a bone to pick with mother nature.
Neither of them looks at me as I enter, and Ava’s nowhere in sight.
I glance at the kitchen clock, then Wes. “You wake up the Doll yet?”
He shakes his head without looking up. “Nope. Figured you’d wanna do the honors.”
I clench my fists. Something’s off. Even when she’s pissed at us, Ava’s always up early, eager to get to class. Either reading at the table or pacing in that nervous, haunted way of hers. I glance back down the hall toward her door, a strange feeling of foreboding creeping up my spine.
Ford finally lifts his gaze, eyes lazy but sharp, clocking how tightly wound I am. “She hasn’t come out of her room all morning,” he provides, yawning. “Probably still pissed about that pic I sent my brother.”
“What pic?” Wes asks, blinking at him.
Ford unlocks his phone, flips to a message thread, and tosses it at Wes. He catches it one-handed, and his gaze darkens as he stares down at the screen, attention locked in.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, teeth sinking into his lower lip to stifle a groan. “This at the charity gala?”
“Yep.” Ford grins, clearly pleased with himself. “Senator Ford slipped her his hotel key, so I slipped it between her thighs and left a souvenir on his pillow.” He reclines back again, lacing his fingers behind his head. “The friction was top tier, even better than titty fucking her. She came all over my dick. Ten outta ten recommend.”
“Jesus,” Wes breathes, tossing the phone back over.
Ford catches it, and my jaw tightens as I fight the urge to glance at the screen before he pockets the damn thing. Whatever amusement they’re deriving from this is already wearing thin. “Just go get her, Wes,” I grumble, jerking my head in the direction of the hall.
His gray eyes snap up to meet mine. “Uh, we’re… not exactly on great terms either.”
I frown. “Explain.”
He winces, dragging a hand through his hair. “Sorta made her blow me in the hallway yesterday.”
“Atta boy,” Ford snickers.
Wes shoots him a look. “It wasn’t like that. It was fucked up. I caught Travis trying to cop a feel and lost it.”
My jaw clenches so hard I almost crack a tooth. If I wasn’t tuned in before, I am now– my spine goes rigid, every muscle snapping taut.
“Travis Stoker?” Ford snarls, all lazy amusement gone. “Hope you put his ass in a coma for touching Kings’ property.”
My eyes stay on Wes, hands slowly curling into fists at my sides.
“Should have,” he mutters. “I beat his face in pretty good, but Ava was hysterical. Hard to finish the job with her screaming. I went to look for him after, but the piece of shit bolted. Fled campus like the pussy he is.”
“Why didn’t you bring this to us right away?” I growl.
“Did you even leave your room yesterday?” Wes fires back, scowling.
Fair point.
I huff out an irritated breath, checking the clock again. “Fine. I’ll get her,” I say. “We’ll discuss how to deal with Travis over lunch.”
Ford’s mouth splits into an eager grin, already savoring the promise of violence.
I drop my backpack and head back down the hall, boots heavy against the floor. I pound twice on Ava’s door, then twist the handle and shove it open without waiting for a response.
