Page 29 of The Spare (The King Dynasty #2)

"I'm going to go pick her up, and I would appreciate it if none of you call me for a while."

The party effectively ruined, I tear my eyes away and make my way around them to the front door where I climb into my car and take out into the night. I look in my rearview mirror, seeing Dante tailing me. His headlights flash just as my dash lights up with a message.

She's at Bar One, sir. -Stephen

The location pops up, but I ignore it, calling Dante instead.

"Yes, sir," he answers.

"Dante, I need you to call the maintenance guy at Melody's dorm, and let him know we're coming and need to be let into her room. We're moving her out while they're partying so we'll need to stop by the store and get some boxes."

"Yes, sir, I'll call him now."

"Thank you, Dante. Let Stephen know to inform me when they're about to head on their way back. "

"Yes, sir."

I hang up, seeing my phone light up with a text from Isobel.

Mason, are you okay? -Izzy

I throw my phone in the console, irritated. Turning my radio on and ignoring my phone pinging repeatedly as I speed my way back into the city.

"Here," I huff. Piling a small box housing her makeup on top of the stack by the door, I tape it carefully.

"I think that's almost everything, I just have to clear out her nightstand, and I'd rather do that myself.

Go ahead and start taking these to the car," I say to Dante, dusting my hands together and looking around the small room.

"Yes, sir. I'll start loading mine up first," he says, grabbing the first two boxes and backing out the door.

I fold my arms for a second, taking a slight break. Not quite believing that I'm getting ready to take her to my home.

To our home.

I hope she likes it. It's a lot different than this bachelorette pad, that's for sure.

She had way more stuff than I'd originally thought.

Kettlebells and yoga mats stashed under the bed, a small collapsible treadmill, and so many tennis shoes and workout clothes I thought I was going to go crazy after I folded the thirtieth pair of leggings.

I grab a box and make my way to her nightstand, getting a half chubby at the prospect of finding a sex toy or two in there. She'd just got one a few days ago .

I open the drawer, disappointment filling me that all I see is a few pens, some sanitary pads, and sticky notes. A necklace I'd given her for her eighteenth birthday is still nestled in its velvet box.

My eyes go back to the sanitary pads.

I've found several of these all over her side, but no tampons.

I wonder why. I begin to load the contents of her drawer in the small box, making a mental note to remember the necklace is in here and wondering if I should ask her about her preference of pads over tampons.

Or, is this even a man's business? I don't know. I'll ask Teresa.

I glance over at her pillow, wondering if she stashes her toy there. I run my fingers under her pillow, pausing as I hit something hard. I flip her pillow, seeing a small leather journal. I look back towards the door, hearing Dante come back in and grab two more boxes and leave again.

I sit on the small bed, holding the journal and feeling such a connection with her because I journal as well, and neither one of us knew that about the other. It burns in my hands, begging me to open it and read it.

It's a horrible invasion of privacy, but really, is it any worse than moving a person out of their home without permission?

Rifling through their clothes and intimate things?

I flip to the first page, seeing her first journal entry was almost four years ago around the time when she first met me. Curiously, I begin to flip through the pages only focusing on the dates at the moment. The dates are sporadic, she isn't an everyday writer.

The journal spans three and a half years.

Her handwriting is a beautiful cursive, with cute flourishes.

I go back to the first entry, just needing to know.

September 20th

I met King's brother today, he's so handsome.

Darker skin like mine, Spanish. Thick curly hair, full lips. Smooth as hell accent. Eyes that seem to see into the depths of my soul. He put his hand on my leg and I was so flustered I didn't know what to do.

He's twenty five.

I wonder if he knows how shy I am? How nervous. Or if that even bothers him? I've never even had a boyfriend before. I can't believe I feel this way about someone almost ten years older than me.

So stupid.

xoxo

The joy I felt at her mentioning me dampens at how disparagingly she talks about herself. I frown, turning to the next page and feel my heart squeeze realizing she documented the time Isobel was kidnapped.

Guilt swamps me, and my fingers shake as I try to keep the journal steady.

October 7th

Izzy's gone. Someone took her.

I won't be anything without her. She was my everything.

October 19th

Mason made me eat today. I threw it up almost immediately.

October 29th

They still haven't found her. The only way I'm able to sleep is in Mason's arms. I don't think I'm ever going to see her again. I don't want to run anymore. I don't want to do anything .

I don't want to be here.

The guilt begins to eat me alive. I drag a hand down my face, cupping my jaw for a minute remembering we'd almost had to sign her into a rehab. That was the longest day and night of my life, her pleading and begging not to be sent away.

The next page is a journal entry depicting me getting her the diamond necklace I'd just packed up. I flip and flip, seeing her feelings on not going to the college she originally wanted in California because Isobel and Hendrix wanted to keep her close. As did I.

She was so upset. The page looks a bit stiff in spots from tear stains. I remember the day they told her she had to stay in New York for her safety. I was so torn. I told Hendrix I'd move to California with her to keep an eye on her, but that was shot down, too. He didn't trust me, he'd said.

I tilt my head, my lips curling in amusement at the sight of our names combined together. I run my fingers across the lines, my skin going hot.

Mason Antonio King and Melody Rachel King.

I stare at our names together far too long, thinking they look perfect. I'm glad she scratched out her maiden name, she wasn't going to be allowed to keep it anyway.

The next journal entry Melody speaks about her first boyfriend disappearing, thinking something happened to him.

Then by the third boyfriend, she'd begun to believe she was the problem.

That they were running from her. Rejecting her.

All journal entries after that depict a Melody that I'd personally never seen before.

One who's deeply insecure, and very unhappy with herself.

I look up, thinking.

This is also the time she'd started to wear a lot of makeup .

I flip the next page, inhaling sharply at the depiction of an incredibly detailed sex dream she'd just had recently about me. My cock jerks against the tight confines of my pants, and I groan quietly, putting a hand to the ache and squeezing. Trying to get myself in check.

"Jesus," I mutter.

Hearing Dante come back in, I close the journal and shove it into the box with her things and tape the box shut. I check my phone, seeing it light up with an incoming text, and my blood runs hot with anger as I read the contents.

Headed to you now, should be there in fifteen. I just want to let you know, they stopped by his house for about thirty minutes before making their way back to the university. Her blonde friend left to go to her boyfriend’s, so they were alone. -Stephen

Why the fuck didn't you call me and let me know? -Mason

I swear to God he's getting fired.

I did, boss. You didn't answer. -Stephen

Frowning, I scroll up and see he'd also texted me to let me know as well as called me three times, but my phone was on do not disturb because of the incessant ringing from my family members. I shake my head and force myself to take a deep breath.

When I'm wrong, I'm wrong.

I'll admit it.

Sorry, Stephen. Thank you. -Mason

I pocket my phone and grab the last three boxes, shutting the dorm door behind me.

A student lingers in the hallway giving me a side eye as she sits on the floor on her phone.

I ignore her, stepping over her legs and make my way to the stairwell where I make the short journey to my car and shove the boxes in the backseat.

I try to call Melody, but her phone goes straight to voicemail. Not wanting her to see me, I park further down the street and wait.

About ten minutes goes by before a dark green SUV turns a corner then parks next to the sidewalk. It's her and Leo. A minute later headlights shine in my side mirror before dimming. I look, seeing it's her bodyguard parking behind Stephen's car. Dante pulls out, headed to take Melody's things home.

Melody doesn't get out.

I watch them, seeing what they're about. I don't want to make my move in front of Leo but may have to. My heart begins to beat faster, the blood rushes in my ears, and my skin dots with goosebumps. It's finally time. I strum my fingers on the steering wheel, forcing myself to be patient.

I waited four years, surely I can wait a few more minutes.

I clear my throat. Looking at my watch, wondering what the fuck they're talking about. Ten minutes pass. Then twenty.

Her window lowers and I see her arm dangle out the car, looking like she's getting mighty comfortable at almost midnight.

Leo turns in his seat to face her better, and the brake lights go off as he turns the car off. My lips curl with displeasure as my patience finally comes to an end. I'm not going to sit here and watch them get chummy. I pull out my phone, calling Stephen.

"Sir?"

"I'm about to grab Melody. I need you to make sure Leo doesn't call the police or get in my way. Pay him off, whatever it takes," I say simply.

"Yes, sir. "