King’s (The King Trilogy #1)(38)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Thirty minutes later, I was finally at my parents’ door. I rang, and they buzzed me in.

“Here goes,” I mumbled to myself as I made my way upstairs to their living room, but no one was there.

“Mom?” I called out.

“We’re in the kitchen, honey.”

I noticed the sound of laughter almost immediately, and when I entered, I couldn’t believe who I saw.

What the hell is he doing here? My jaw dropped.

My mother’s blue eyes lit up. “Oh, Mia! Honey.” She popped up from the kitchen table and gave me a hug, but my eyes didn’t move from the exquisite man in the expensive black suit with the hypnotic light-gray eyes sitting at her table, enjoying a cup of tea. “It’s so nice to see you, baby.”

“Uhhh. Nice to see you, too,” I said.

“Mia,” she turned toward the intruder, “this is Mr. King. He works with your brother’s organization.”

What the hell was going on? I almost lost the strength in my legs. Was this yet another dream?

“I go by King. Just—King,” he corrected her.

“Oh. Kind of like Madonna or Cher?” I said, fuming. How dare he be here!

King shot me a look.

Just then, my father entered the kitchen, wearing a blue golf shirt, holding a bottle of scotch. “Ah. Here’s the good stuff.” He looked up and saw me. “Mia, good, you’re here.”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

My father was the first to chime in. “I think you should sit, Mia.” He hitched up his navy blue slacks and cleared his throat.

I looked at him, then my mother, and finally King, who had a smirk in his eyes. Yes. In his goddamned eyes, of all things.

I sat, trembling every inch of the way.

“Mia,” my father placed the bottle at the center of the kitchen table, “I know this will be a shock, but your brother has been lying to us.”

King had told them? “Yeah, I know,” I replied.

My mother smiled. “You do? Oh, honey. I think it’s great. What your brother is doing for his country is…well, we couldn’t be prouder.”

I blinked. “I think I’ve missed something.”

King cleared his throat. “Mia, my name is King. I came here tonight to tell your parents about your brother’s work with us.”

“You did?” I asked.

“Obviously, the fact that he’s been working with the government is not to be shared, but we thought you and your family needed to know why he’s been out of touch for so long.”

I swallowed down a glob of rage in my throat. “Wow. That is a shock.” What the ever-loving hell is going on?

King flashed a glance at his watch—or had he just looked at the tattoo on his wrist?—and quickly rose from the table. His imposing stature and authoritative presence filled my mother’s kitchen. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting Justin’s family.” He threw a business card on the table. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call. However, Justin should be in touch in a few weeks.”

I scooped up the card immediately and shoved it in my jeans pocket. I had questions. Lots of questions. Such as, what the hell was he doing at my parents’ house, serving up a giant, heaping pile of bullcrap?

“Oh, but I thought you were going to stay,” said my father. “I really wanted to hear more about these drug cartels.”

King flashed one of his signature charming smiles, and I could swear I saw my mother catch her breath as if entranced by the beautiful man.

Oh my God. King was using one of his little mind tricks on them. That’s why they were so happy to swallow his story.

“Perhaps next time. But I have an important meeting to attend.” King dipped his head. “Pleased to meet you, Mia.”

I rose from the chair and was about to follow him out, but my mother wasn’t having it. “Just where do you think you’re going, Mia? You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I, uhhh, was going to show King to the door. Be right back.”

I followed King down the stairs, ready to unleash a fury, but as soon as we stepped onto the front porch, he swung around and grabbed my wrist. He firmly held his palm over my tattoo. “Before you commence, Miss Turner, what I anticipate will be a colorful display of unhappy words, I want you to listen.”

Son of a bitch wants me to listen? I’ll kill him!

“Mia.” His voice was low as he stared deeply into my eyes. “Just listen.” He released my wrist, and I instantly felt my control return.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Stopping you from making a big mistake.”

“What?” I barked.

He held out his hand. “I know what you were going to tell your parents tonight.”

“How did you know?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I think you are aware, Miss Turner, that some of the abilities I’ve acquired do not come with a ‘how,’ they simply are what they are.”

More of his creepy bullshit. I wondered if his ability to listen to my conversations was linked to my tattoo. Why the hell not? He was able to track me with it and evoke a hypnotic-like suggestive state in me just by touching it.

“Mia!” I heard my mother call.

I sighed. “Why are you here, King?” I whispered.

“Because telling your parents the truth, when you do not know the truth, would only cause them suffering. And I cannot afford to have you distracted, thinking about their well-being, wanting to be by their sides to console them when we have work to finish.”

“You mean finding your stupid Artifact.”

“Mia!” my mother called out again.

I sighed. “I need to go.”

King’s lips twitched into that little half-grin he made sometimes, and his eyes flashed to my lips.

“What?” I asked.

“I find it fascinating that you’re afraid of your parents, but not me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why’s that fascinating?”

“Because I terrify the hell out of everyone else. And they are right to be afraid.” He turned and made his way down the short flight of steps leading off the porch onto the sidewalk. “I will send Arno to your friend Becca’s home in two hours. Pack light.”

No. Not again. “I think we’re pretty much done.”

“We are not done until I say we’re done.”

I glared. “Is that all you got?”

His eyes narrowed for a moment, and then he scratched his chin. I think he was debating his next move. “Did you not just come to my office and ask how you could help?”