King of Me (The King Trilogy #3)(8)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“And the Seer bitch thinks I am a monster…Me!” Vaughn chuckled.

The man actually believed he was a nice person compared to King? Psycho!

“Yes. I do think you’re a monster,” I spat.

“Perhaps I am, but you are blind. Blind about King, as you are about your f**k of a little brother. That’s the beauty of it all. You sacrifice everything to save someone who would leave you to be violated and mutilated by a group of thugs.”

“You’re lying.”

“I have no reason to lie.”

Of course he did. He wanted to watch me suffer. I’m sure it wasn’t anything personal; he simply got off on it. Even now as his body gave out and blood flowed from the wound, he enjoyed this. The sick bulge remained in his stained pants.

I couldn’t take it anymore. This had to end.

I picked up the knife and stared into his eyes. Then I sliced his throat. “Who’s getting off now?”

“Mia?”

My head turned toward King, who stood in the doorway behind me, shock covering his face. “What did you do?”

I looked at my bloody hand, having to think about it. Was this a dream? “I think I, uh, slit the bastard’s throat.” I dropped the bloody knife at King’s feet as I passed him.

CHAPTER FOUR

Later that afternoon, after a long, long run to ward off an imminent mental breakdown—yeah, Mia Turner is officially a murderer—I strolled along the empty beach, focusing on the sensation of the warm white sand sifting between my toes. Sadly, it did little for me. Neither did the sound of crashing waves—something I normally found soothing.

Cold hands shoved deeply into my jeans’ pockets, I stopped to gaze out across the endless stretch of blue ocean, the wind whipping my face. To be frank with myself, I wasn’t sure what felt more disturbing about the morning’s events: the weird and very real vision I’d had of Vaughn hurting my mother, the ease with which I’d killed him, or the relief and satisfaction I’d felt afterward.

Definitely, the lack of remorse. Because, holy hell, it felt goddamned euphoric knowing this world had been rid of Vaughn. Now, if I could only get my hands on the rest of 10 Club.

You’re going to go on a killing spree, Mia? Really?

No. But I wanted to, and my mind didn’t know what to make of it. These were not the emotions of a decent person, but of a ruthless criminal. And if it weren’t for my confusion over that fact, I would be off looking for King. Sadistic pig. I bet he got a kick out of locking me up with Vaughn.

“You look like you had a rough day,” said a deep male voice.

I turned my head to find Mack, King’s right-hand man and personal pilot, staring with a warm, boyish grin. Mack’s messy blond hair, big blue eyes, and unshaven face gave him the appearance of a rugged, sweet, all-American guy. Handsome as hell, too. On the inside, however, lived a deadly, ex-military-something, and a damned pit bull—as fiercely loyal as he was ferocious. There wasn’t anything Mack wouldn’t do for King. Anything. Including throwing me under the bus, lying to me, and placing me in danger. All because King had freed him from being the whipping boy of another 10 Club member—Vaughn’s psycho wife—Christ—widow. In any case, I didn’t trust Mack and never would.

“Hey, Mack.” I jerked my head.

“You still mad?”

Mad? I assumed he referred to all of the lies—too many to count—he’d told me over the last few months.

“This isn’t about being mad.” I walked away from him and the ostentatious estate.

“Of course it is,” he called out.

“Idiot,” I grumbled under my breath, just as Mack caught up and stood in my way.

How dare he? “Move.”

His blue eyes narrowed, and with the bright sun shining over us, I noticed the red highlights in his dark blond hair and a few white whiskers sprinkled throughout his stubbled jaw.

“We need to talk,” he said in a cold voice that reminded me of King.

“No, we don’t.” I tried to step around him, but he pushed me back.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” I barked.

“I need to talk to you.”

Feathers fully ruffled, I stared for several moments. A guy like him wasn’t going to leave until he got what he wanted, and I desperately needed to be alone. “You have ten seconds.”

His eyes focused on my white tee shirt, which I now noticed had splatters of blood on it, along with my jeans. “Christ, Mia, you did kill Vaughn.”

I hissed, “That’s what you want to talk about?”

“No, actually. I was only curious about that—it’s not like you.”

I shrugged. “Yes. I did the world a giant favor and ended him. Your point?”

“You really have become a cold-hearted bitch. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t heard you say it.”

I lifted my brows. “Are we done now? Because this ‘bitch’ isn’t in the mood for small talk.”

“No. We’re not done.” He glanced over his shoulder back at the house. “I need to tell you something, but it’s not safe to talk here. Someone might hear us.”

I shook my head. Obviously, he wasn’t worried about any Spiros sneaking up on us; we could see those “someones.”

“You mean King,” I stated.

“Yes.”

“I don’t have time for this, Mack.” Anything he had to say would only serve to advance some twisted hidden agenda of King’s. I turned to head back toward the house, only to be yanked by my arm.

“Mia,” he growled, “I know you don’t have a reason to trust me, but I swear on my life that I’m trying to help you.”

I stared into his vivid blue eyes as he towered over me. “What are you up to?”

His gaze moved to my lips as if he were contemplating doing something he shouldn’t. I instinctively stepped back.

“Fine,” he said. “If you won’t come with me so we can talk privately, then I’ll tell you here. Just know that if he overhears, I’m dead.”

Again, I didn’t believe a word the man said, so I shrugged.

“You really have changed, haven’t you?” He shook his head.

“You sound disappointed.”

“I liked the old Mia. As annoying and whiny as she might’ve been, she genuinely cared.”

“You’ll get over it.”

He scratched his chin, and the wind picked up, pushing his blond hair back. “Already am.”