Page 83
Story: King of Depravity
“Or a god. Which is weird,” Rush says with a shrug.
“It’s the best a man can hope for,” Gris scowls at our youngest brother. “You’ll understand someday.”
“I doubt it,” he fires back.
But I hold the canvas in my hands, knowing that it’s time for me to go get my girl. “Question,” I say, done with brotherly bonding. “How likely is Mason to allow me to use his jet?”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
Chloe
The plane ride,a red-eye, leaves me exhausted. I’ve barely strung two nights of decent sleep together and I hardly know French, so in the end, I muddle through getting a taxi, by just showing him the slip that Killian gave me with an address.
Once I’m there, I drag my suitcase up to a door, studying the colorful frame. This doesn’t appear to be a hotel, but a private residence.
I lift my hand to knock, the door immediately opens, a woman in a smart uniform on the other side.
“Miss Clark?” she asks with a smile, her English perfect despite her French accent.
My brain is so addled by the lack of sleep that it takes me a full three seconds to realize that she’s using the name on all documents that Killian gave me. “Yes.”
She gestures for me to come in.
I step through the door and immediately gasp because the view through the back of the house is stunning, the house right on the ocean.
“Are you hungry, ma’am?” The woman asks as she dips into a curtsey. I turn back to her. Is she here to cook for me?
“No. Thank you. Just tired.”
She gestures for me to follow her up the stairs. I do, carrying my suitcase up the wrought iron staircase and down a long hall with a picture window at the end. Turning into one of the doors, I find myself in a stunning bedroom with a Killian-sized bed.
The sight of it makes my chest ache.
Is he all right? What’s happening back in Vegas? I came because I knew in my heart that leaving helped him the most, but I hate being here.
All right, under different circumstances, I’d love being here. But nothing feels right without Killian.
Heading into the large bathroom, I shower, brush my teeth, and then crawl into bed. As I close my eyes, visions of Killian fill my head, and despite being exhausted, it takes me forever to fall asleep.
When I wake, the entire day has passed, the sun setting. I push up from the bed, looking out the large picture window with views out over the water. The sky is bathed in shades of orange, pink, and red.
I just watch for a second and then grabbing my phone, I head down the stairs and out the door to put my toes in the sand and watch the sky change.
The lapping of the water relaxes my shoulders as I turn my face up to the sky. “Please be all right, Killian,” I say into the light breeze, my arms wrapping around my middle. “Please come back to me.”
“I already did.”
Spinning, I gasp. He stands behind me, a cocksure grin on his face as he opens his arms.
He looks exactly the same and somehow different. Lighter. Brighter than I’ve ever seen him.
For a moment I just stand there, overcome with emotion and then I close the distance between us, as he pulls me off my feet and into his arms.
I’m wrapped around him before I’ve even said a word, my legs about his waist, my arms circling his neck. “You came.”
“I would have been here sooner, but I flew into England and then had to take the Chunnel.”
“England? Were you visiting family?”
“It’s the best a man can hope for,” Gris scowls at our youngest brother. “You’ll understand someday.”
“I doubt it,” he fires back.
But I hold the canvas in my hands, knowing that it’s time for me to go get my girl. “Question,” I say, done with brotherly bonding. “How likely is Mason to allow me to use his jet?”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
Chloe
The plane ride,a red-eye, leaves me exhausted. I’ve barely strung two nights of decent sleep together and I hardly know French, so in the end, I muddle through getting a taxi, by just showing him the slip that Killian gave me with an address.
Once I’m there, I drag my suitcase up to a door, studying the colorful frame. This doesn’t appear to be a hotel, but a private residence.
I lift my hand to knock, the door immediately opens, a woman in a smart uniform on the other side.
“Miss Clark?” she asks with a smile, her English perfect despite her French accent.
My brain is so addled by the lack of sleep that it takes me a full three seconds to realize that she’s using the name on all documents that Killian gave me. “Yes.”
She gestures for me to come in.
I step through the door and immediately gasp because the view through the back of the house is stunning, the house right on the ocean.
“Are you hungry, ma’am?” The woman asks as she dips into a curtsey. I turn back to her. Is she here to cook for me?
“No. Thank you. Just tired.”
She gestures for me to follow her up the stairs. I do, carrying my suitcase up the wrought iron staircase and down a long hall with a picture window at the end. Turning into one of the doors, I find myself in a stunning bedroom with a Killian-sized bed.
The sight of it makes my chest ache.
Is he all right? What’s happening back in Vegas? I came because I knew in my heart that leaving helped him the most, but I hate being here.
All right, under different circumstances, I’d love being here. But nothing feels right without Killian.
Heading into the large bathroom, I shower, brush my teeth, and then crawl into bed. As I close my eyes, visions of Killian fill my head, and despite being exhausted, it takes me forever to fall asleep.
When I wake, the entire day has passed, the sun setting. I push up from the bed, looking out the large picture window with views out over the water. The sky is bathed in shades of orange, pink, and red.
I just watch for a second and then grabbing my phone, I head down the stairs and out the door to put my toes in the sand and watch the sky change.
The lapping of the water relaxes my shoulders as I turn my face up to the sky. “Please be all right, Killian,” I say into the light breeze, my arms wrapping around my middle. “Please come back to me.”
“I already did.”
Spinning, I gasp. He stands behind me, a cocksure grin on his face as he opens his arms.
He looks exactly the same and somehow different. Lighter. Brighter than I’ve ever seen him.
For a moment I just stand there, overcome with emotion and then I close the distance between us, as he pulls me off my feet and into his arms.
I’m wrapped around him before I’ve even said a word, my legs about his waist, my arms circling his neck. “You came.”
“I would have been here sooner, but I flew into England and then had to take the Chunnel.”
“England? Were you visiting family?”
Table of Contents
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