Page 76
Story: King of Depravity
Softly I begin to whisper promises about the future I’m going to give her. I’ve already wired millions into an offshore account. If I’m not around, there is no way Chloe is waiting tables and making herself more vulnerable to filthy men.
The buzzing of my phone draws my attention. It’s my regular phone, Triston’s name appears on the screen. I don’t pick up.
But Chloe still stirs. Her head lifts and her sleepy eyes open. “Who is it?”
“No one.”
She cranes her neck. “Triston is no one?”
“Right now, he is,” I return tightening my arms around her. She has no idea that Triston called her a problem, that he intimated I ought to make that problem disappear. I told him not to make me choose, but the truth is, I already have.
My phone stops ringing and the burner starts. “Pick up,” Chloe murmurs.
“My family is not our biggest supporters,” I rumble back.
“Of course they aren’t.” She burrows into me. “We’ve known each other for less than a week, I witnessed you commit murder. They don’t know who I am or what I’m about. And they are worried about you.” She lifts her head then, her eyes meeting mine. “I wish I had family like that. No one has ever cared about me enough to worry until you.”
My teeth grit together because I see her fucking point. They are trying to protect me even if they are mostly just pissing me off.
The burner stops and then starts again. This time, I pick up. “What?”
“Good morning,” Triston replies, sounding like the smooth fuck he is. “Get any sleep?”
“Like a baby,” I answer, rising from the bed. I’m naked, not that I care, as I open the bedroom door and head out into the kitchen.
Chloe doesn’t follow, I know she knows I need a bit of privacy.
“Jesus, Killian,” Triston rumbles. “Yesterday had to bother you.”
“Of course it bothered me,” I bite back. “That’s the thing about having a soft woman in your bed. She reminds you of what you’re fighting for.”
Triston is silent for several seconds. “Killian.”
There is a different tone in his voice. It concedes. Maybe even asks…
“What?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”
I pull the phone from my ear, staring at it. “Are you having me killed today?”
“What the hell? Why would you ask that?”
“Because you’re acting fucking weird.” I lower my voice, which has been rising with each word. “And because we both know you think I’m a problem and so does Mason Kincaid.”
Triston lets out a long breath. “I don’t think you’re a problem, Killian. In fact, I think you’ve been seeing several people and events with a lot more clarity than I have. This is me admitting I’m wrong and you’re right, just to be clear.”
Triston never admits he’s wrong. This entire interaction is just off. “Now I know you’re planning something.”
“I’m not…” He lets out a frustrated breath. “I spoke with mum.”
“Yeah?” my stomach sinks.
“She said if anything happens to you, she’ll disown me.” Triston scratches at the stubble on his jaw, I hear it through the phone. “And then I spoke with Mason, and I realized that you were right not to trust him. He’s had cameras on our houses this entire time.”
I hear my brother. I mostly believe him. But I stay alive because I always apply a bit of mistrust. “What do you want, Triston?”
“We’re meeting with the Russians tonight. I want you there.”
The buzzing of my phone draws my attention. It’s my regular phone, Triston’s name appears on the screen. I don’t pick up.
But Chloe still stirs. Her head lifts and her sleepy eyes open. “Who is it?”
“No one.”
She cranes her neck. “Triston is no one?”
“Right now, he is,” I return tightening my arms around her. She has no idea that Triston called her a problem, that he intimated I ought to make that problem disappear. I told him not to make me choose, but the truth is, I already have.
My phone stops ringing and the burner starts. “Pick up,” Chloe murmurs.
“My family is not our biggest supporters,” I rumble back.
“Of course they aren’t.” She burrows into me. “We’ve known each other for less than a week, I witnessed you commit murder. They don’t know who I am or what I’m about. And they are worried about you.” She lifts her head then, her eyes meeting mine. “I wish I had family like that. No one has ever cared about me enough to worry until you.”
My teeth grit together because I see her fucking point. They are trying to protect me even if they are mostly just pissing me off.
The burner stops and then starts again. This time, I pick up. “What?”
“Good morning,” Triston replies, sounding like the smooth fuck he is. “Get any sleep?”
“Like a baby,” I answer, rising from the bed. I’m naked, not that I care, as I open the bedroom door and head out into the kitchen.
Chloe doesn’t follow, I know she knows I need a bit of privacy.
“Jesus, Killian,” Triston rumbles. “Yesterday had to bother you.”
“Of course it bothered me,” I bite back. “That’s the thing about having a soft woman in your bed. She reminds you of what you’re fighting for.”
Triston is silent for several seconds. “Killian.”
There is a different tone in his voice. It concedes. Maybe even asks…
“What?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”
I pull the phone from my ear, staring at it. “Are you having me killed today?”
“What the hell? Why would you ask that?”
“Because you’re acting fucking weird.” I lower my voice, which has been rising with each word. “And because we both know you think I’m a problem and so does Mason Kincaid.”
Triston lets out a long breath. “I don’t think you’re a problem, Killian. In fact, I think you’ve been seeing several people and events with a lot more clarity than I have. This is me admitting I’m wrong and you’re right, just to be clear.”
Triston never admits he’s wrong. This entire interaction is just off. “Now I know you’re planning something.”
“I’m not…” He lets out a frustrated breath. “I spoke with mum.”
“Yeah?” my stomach sinks.
“She said if anything happens to you, she’ll disown me.” Triston scratches at the stubble on his jaw, I hear it through the phone. “And then I spoke with Mason, and I realized that you were right not to trust him. He’s had cameras on our houses this entire time.”
I hear my brother. I mostly believe him. But I stay alive because I always apply a bit of mistrust. “What do you want, Triston?”
“We’re meeting with the Russians tonight. I want you there.”
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