Page 22 of The Kingpin’s Omega Lover (River City Omegas #2)

“You know my parents separated when I was six,” King said, hoping he could relay the facts of the matter without falling into the painful emotions.

“My mother had been unhappy in the marriage, and as a child I didn’t understand.

Before the separation, we were wealthy, we were safe, we lived in a beautiful home.

She attended parties and had fancy dresses and diamond necklaces.

I didn’t grasp what my father did for a living, or why the inherent danger would cause her so much distress. ”

“You had no way of knowing that as a six-year-old.” Bishop leaned back in his chair, attentive and open. “You’ve never talked about your parents’ divorce before.”

“That’s because it was a nightmare. I remember the yelling, the screaming, the threats from both sides.

And unfortunately for my mother, she signed a pre-nup, and she left the marriage with nothing except joint custody of me.

She brought nothing into the marriage, because she’d been poor.

Much like Kensley’s mother, she was someone who needed a boost out of poverty, and she put up with almost anything from her husband. Until it was too much.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that was on you.”

“That wasn’t the worst part. After the divorce, she started drinking heavily and doing drugs, and when my father learned of all the strange men coming and going from the house, he took her back to court.

That ended with her only getting one weekend a month with me.

He wouldn’t even let her come to my eighth birthday party. I saw her two weeks after.”

King picked up his ink pen and began twirling it with his fingers, something to channel the nervous energy that arose on the rare occasions when he thought about the next two years of his childhood.

“I remember it was mid-December, freezing and snowy. Her apartment was so cold we ate canned soup in front of the open oven door. She got a phone call, and she told me we had to go out for a while. She had to meet a friend for business, and she needed me to sit in the car, because she couldn’t find a babysitter.

She told me it was an Arctic adventure. So, I took a blanket and a chapter book, and off we went.

To a run-down motel. She parked under a light, so I could bundle up and read my book while she went into one of the rooms.”

“Damn, brother.” Bishop sighed, his face creased with an intense frown. “Small kudos to her, I guess, for not leaving an eight-year-old home alone, but damn.”

“I’d have been better off if she’d left me home.”

Bishop tilted his head slightly to one side and studied King, while his bright mind sifted through everything they’d spoken about. King saw the moment the pieces began sliding into place, forming a clearer picture of what King had yet to say. “Fuck.”

King nodded. “I fell asleep waiting for her. Didn’t really wake up when someone got in the car and started driving.

I assumed it was Mom taking me home. I had no idea it was a man who would lie to me about my mother giving me away, that I had to do everything he said, or I’d be punished.

” Bile scorched the back of King’s throat, and he flung his pen across the room.

“That I would be sold. For almost two years. To the absolute worst. The vilest men on the planet. That I would be tricked into thinking both my parents hated me, when my mother was being used the exact same way, and my father was sparing no expense to try and find me.” King’s vision blurred, and he blinked hard, annoyed by the tears.

“So yes, I understand Malori’s pain too much not to move heaven and earth to give him his vengeance. ”

Bishop’s eyes shined with grief, horror, and fury, and he was clutching the right arm of the chair so tight the leather creaked. “Did your father punish the people who abducted you?”

“I don’t know. I doubt it.”

“What!?”

“I repressed those memories for years, Bishop. My father refused to talk about it, told me therapy would only make things worse, bullied me into ignoring all that pain, and it…clouded over. He’d remarried, and then Kensley was born, and I had a baby brother.

My mother never recovered, and she ended up in an institution for the rest of her life.

He wouldn’t let me visit her. Ever.” He’d once told Bishop that partial truth, but he’d said she was institutionalized because of psychosis from too many years abusing drugs.

Not that it was a combination of alcoholism, drug use, and years of being trafficked to feed her habit.

“But when my father divorced Kensley’s mom and I lost my baby brother, I was so angry with him that I started working for one of his competitors. And I met you.” Teenage hellions who wanted to feel seen and useful, and they’d bonded immediately. “You remember my first kill?”

“Of course. You were pretty torn up over it for a while.”

“It wasn’t just killing Harley, but what he’d done to deserve it.

The trauma of those two years started coming back.

I was sixteen when I finally asked my father what he’d done about my abuse.

Had he done anything in my name? Do you know what his response was?

” King snorted hard. “He smacked me in the mouth and said to never bring it up again.”

Bishop inhaled a sharp breath.

“Father told me to shut up about it, that real men never admitted such things happened to them, and I needed to grow up and move on. Forget it ever happened, or else I’d never amount to more than a common street thug.”

“Fucking hell, King.” Bishop’s face was bright red, and his chest heaved with short, angry pants. “I always knew you hated your father, but fuck. No wonder you made it your life’s mission to destroy the evil fucker.”

King nodded, a slow up and down. “If my father did one thing for me with that little speech, it was give me the fuel I needed to take control of my life. I didn’t forget the pain, I used it.

I put him in the ground with it.” His eyes burned again, but he wasn’t shedding any more tears today.

“I wish my money could have saved my mother. Or saved Kensley’s mother from him. ”

“But if you’d done that, you wouldn’t have a brother, and I wouldn’t have my charus.”

“True. And wishing changes nothing. It just keeps you up at night, wondering what might have been.”

“You know I get that.” Bishop ran his right hand through his hair, then scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to say. I know what you don’t want me to say.”

King’s lips twitched; he hated pity.

“Have you told any of this to Kensley or Malori?” Bishop asked.

“I don’t want to tell Kensley about any of it,” King snapped. “He doesn’t need the additional stress right now. Maybe once the baby is born, and we’re all somewhere else, away from this life…maybe.”

“That’s fair. I’ll do my best not to slip in front of him.”

“Slip?”

Bishop glared at him. “My best friend in the world, a man I’ve known for almost twenty-five years, told me something horrific that happened to him when he was a defenseless kid. I’m going to need time to process that, pal.”

“You’re right. I didn’t consider that, and I’m sorry. I took a pretty big emotional dump on your lap just now.”

“It’s okay. I’m proud of you for talking about it. Thank you for sharing your pain with me. I mean it.”

“You’re welcome. I should have done it a long time ago, but it was easier to keep it all compartmentalized, in a place where it couldn’t affect my everyday judgment.

But ever since the Farm, all that shit has gotten stirred back up.

I see so much of my own pain in Malori’s eyes, and it eats me up inside. ”

“I understand. Did you talk to Malori about it?”

“A little. I was vague, but he knows I was trafficked. If he asks more direct questions, I’ll answer them. But I haven’t asked him about his experiences. Sometimes you don’t have to talk about things.”

“I respect that.” Bishop leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, and steepled his fingers. “I have one request going forward.”

He expected nothing less. “Ask.”

“If you ever start to feel like your emotions on this subject are clouding your judgment, seriously clouding your judgment, come and talk to me. We’ll figure it out.”

“You’ve been by my side for years, Bishop, and I value your opinion, your trust, and your friendship. I also appreciate your ability to challenge me when you believe I’m off track, so yes, I agree to your request.”

Bishop nodded. “Thank you.”

“Of course. You, me, Kensley, and Malori? We’re family. I will protect my family.”

To the death, if necessary.