Page 13 of Safe (King’s Heart #1)

Grant

My skin itches everywhere.

I hate being in this room. My old room. I wasn’t really thinking about where I was going. I just grabbed him and dragged him somewhere. Anything to make him stop.

I shouldn’t have done that. If I would’ve let it continue, he could’ve gotten an STD from Declan or something, and maybe that would’ve made him leave.

Leave the school. Leave the team. Leave me .

I just couldn’t stop watching them. Every time I managed to focus my attention on anything else, my damn eyes crawled back to the display. Desperate for any little sight they could get of him.

And then, Declan looked right at me and fucking kissed him.

I lost my fucking mind. I moved without any rational thought except to stop it.

And now, here I am—in the place I fucking hate… alone.

I stand there a few moments—catatonic as the memories from only a few minutes ago run through my head. How his skin felt against mine. How his sadness tasted—like something I want on my tongue all the time. Like something I won’t be able to forget.

And he called himself my pet. My pet. I liked that too much.

Maybe it’s just something innate inside of me. I like to control and own. Maybe it has nothing to do with him saying it.

But either way, it scared me—snapping me out of whatever entanglement we found ourselves in.

I had to shut it down, saying anything that would crush him, and from the salty taste of his tears still lingering on my tongue, I succeeded.

I look down at my crotch and glare at the erection tenting my pants. Reaching inside, I pull it up and tuck it into my waistband, shivering a little at the contact.

As good as it would feel to come right now, I’d rather my dick fall off than take care of it in this fucking house.

I’d barely had time to drink enough before Declan came and decided to fuck with me. That needs to be fixed right now.

I try to smooth my consciousness down, making sure I don’t look as wild as I feel inside and leave the room.

I walk through the hallway and down the stairs where most of the people are, making my way over to my chair, sinking back in, and throwing back a random shot that’s sitting on the table next to me.

I only get to sit a few seconds, watching everyone fuck up this terrible place, before a furious little twink stomps up to me. “Why did Landon just text me that he went home?!”

I shrug, keeping my eyes on a girl I don’t know who stumbles and knocks a priceless vase of my uncle’s off a shelf, sending it shattering to the floor. “I don’t know anything about you and your fucking pretty-boy boyfriend.”

I see him cross his arms out of the corner of my eye with what I’m sure is a smug look on his face. “Jealous much, Grant? You should call him pretty to his face. He might like it.”

There’s an odd jolt in my belly.

I slowly drag my eyes to his face while sitting up, my elbows resting on my knees. I was right. His expression is smug as fuck. “No.”

I grab a drink off a random guy walking by.

The guy immediately turns around like he’s going to tell me off until he sees who it is and raises his hands in surrender before scampering away.

I look back at Declan. “But, tell me, Declan, who’s going to tell him how much of a star you are?

He might not want a boyfriend who’s so… used . ”

He smiles sweetly at me, moving his hands to his hips. “Shut the fuck up, Grant. Your whole tortured-asshole schtick doesn’t intimidate me.”

I lean back and look at the chaos, suddenly feeling so tired and not drunk enough. I take a swig of Random Guy’s drink, which is definitely not strong enough, and wave Declan away. “Leave me alone before I text Javi and tell him you’re here. I saw him around earlier.”

That does the trick. He visibly backs down, speaking more softly to me. “You’re such an idiot. Landon is a nice guy. What exactly did he do that was so bad?”

I sit up again, retrieving my phone from my pocket and pulling up the messaging app. “Alright. I’m texting Javi.”

His hands shoot out for me to stop. “Alright! Jesus fuck. Fine. Fucking asshole,” he mumbles the last part as he turns and walks away from me.

Javi walks up almost immediately after he leaves. “What did he want?” he practically growls.

“To suck on my balls.”

He whips his head in my direction, anger marring his face.

I let out a little chuckle. “I’m fucking kidding, bro. He’s mad about Landon.”

Javi says nothing, pressing his lips into a flat line, searching the crowd for Declan.

“You have any weed?” I ask.

He absently nods as his eyes continue scanning the people in front of us. Pulling out a blunt from his pocket, he hands it to me.

“Thanks,” I say as I take the lighter he also gives me and spark it up. “I’ll pay you back. I just need a little something extra right now.”

He nods again, his eyes locked on something in the masses of people. “Yeah, no problem, bro. I’ll see you around.” And then he leaves me, his body weaving through the crowd with a clear target in mind.

I take a few hits of the blunt, feeling it start to soften the clarity of the night. A guy on the team throws a bottle across the room, trying to hit the guy from another school who has his arm around his girl.

He misses, but it shatters the window behind him. They both run at each other and start throwing punches, trying to take each other down. They knock over a lamp in the process.

I smile. This is what I need.

And then, right on time, he walks in.

The moment I see him, that urge rises up in me.

My mouth fills with saliva. I look down at my hand, flexing it, watching the dumbass barbed wire tattoo across my knuckles move with my skin.

I don’t love it. But it does its job. It was some back alley tattoo situation.

I was only fourteen at the time, so I had few legitimate options for someone to tattoo me.

And I just needed it there. I didn’t want any more reminders than the ones that already played in my brain.

When I look up at him again, he still hasn’t seen me. He’s too busy taking everything in. His head moves on a swivel as he takes a deep breath, then brings his hand up, rubbing at his forehead in annoyance.

He looks older than the last time I saw him.

His skin has a grayish pallor to it, and his hair barely wisps across the back of his head.

He even moves more slowly—each step a more labored task than it used to be.

The dark suits he always wears look so stiff on him.

Time is taking him. And I’m not sure how to feel about that.

His gaze finally catches on me. We stare at each other, even though it makes me want to peel my fucking skin off. I keep my face as impassive as possible. Just like I used to. Not showing anything.

He breaks our trance, turning and heading up the stairs.

It’ll be about sixty more seconds until he calls the cops, which means I have about ten more minutes before they get here. At least, that’s how it’s been the last few years.

I stand up, pulling up my rideshare app and ordering a ride back to campus.

I walk over to the stereo and press the power button, sending silence crashing over the guests.

“Time to go,” I mutter and start heading for the door. It’s actually kind of somber. Everyone stays quiet and follows suit, trudging through all the broken shit on the floor and exiting the house.

While I wait for my ride to pull up, I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s trashed. I did what I needed to tonight.

Landon briefly flits through my mind. His sad, teary eyes. The comforting color of cinnamon. His crushed spirit.

Hopefully I accomplished two things tonight, and that’ll be the last time I see him.