Page 55 of The Spare (The King Dynasty #2)

Chapter thirty-three

What We Are Together

I dare you to fuck him in one of the empty bathroom stalls, girl.- Kari

T he text comes through as I'm sitting in my study.

Since Melody's out I'm taking advantage of her absence, getting some things done for work and listening to some jazz, minding my own fucking business and just generally having a great time eating a hot cinnamon roll paired with ice cream when I open the message from Melody's friend Karissa.

I freeze when I read it, and my blood runs cold.

What the fuck?

I frown, confused, going over to Melody's text thread trying to figure out what the hell is going on. But I don't see anything from her. I debate on messaging her back; however, a minute later another text comes through.

Who cares? You're so young Melody. Live a little! Mason will never know. -Kari

I clench my jaw so hard a tooth protests, and I launch myself out of my office chair, calling Stephen.

"Yes, sir?" he says. A loud hip-hop beat filters through the phone making my blood pressure rise to what I'm sure is stroke-inducing levels.

I pull on my jacket, grabbing my wallet and keys and head out the front door. "Stephen, what the fuck is my wife doing right now?"

"She's talking with a few people at a table here at the club."

"Where's Karissa?" I snap.

"I'm sorry, sir," Stephen says, sounding hesitant. "I uh…I wasn't aware I was supposed to keep you apprised of her whereabouts when she isn't with your wife otherwise I would have called you, but she left the club about forty minutes ago with a couple guys she met here."

My phone dings with another text, and I pull it away from my ear to check it.

It's enough to let me know that I'm somehow getting texts that are meant for Melody, but they're being sent to my phone instead of hers for some reason. I have no clue what Melody's saying back.

Come on. He's rich . All rich men have a mistress, and then the woman gets her own lover to cope. Wouldn't it be so fun to beat him to the punch? -Kari

Stepping into the elevator I smash the down button and pray that God grants me mercy and steps in to keep my temper in check. "Who's at the table with her?" I ask Stephen. "Is there a man there?"

I shoot Melody a quick text.

Baby, you okay? -Mase

"There are three men here, sir."

I freeze. "Is she flirting with one of them?"

"No, sir, she's being her regular, friendly self," he says.

Melody? -Mase

The bubbles pop up immediately, but the trip to the ground floor feels like it takes two years off my life because it's so slow.

Hey, sorry I didn't respond by the way babe. I'm at the Lazy Tiger Lounge, what's wrong? Are you okay? -Mel

I step off the elevator and head to the parking garage.

"I'm on my way to come get her. Call me if anything happens," I say, hanging up on him and pushing through the door into the concrete garage. I pull out, seeing Dante trailing me.

The drive also feels like it takes forever, even though it's only half an hour to the club in Friday night traffic.

I hit every light, and by the time I park illegally outside of the club, I am seething, having read two more fucked up messages from Melody's trashy whore of a friend, along with a picture of her sucking off two men with jizz all over her face.

I bypass the line, ignoring the various party goers cursing me out and walk straight on in .

I clock Stephen right away, and he nods his head in the direction of the curtained off VIP booth. Melody's curly hair is the first thing I see through the flimsy gauze material, her silhouette unmistakable.

Making my way through the crowd, I push off a woman who runs her hands across my shoulders seductively, keeping my eyes on my wife. My chest tightens hard from being so pissed, but I keep my temper under check because as far as I know, Melody didn't do anything wrong.

But I'm not exactly going to sit around and give her the chance to, either.

I flick the curtains to the side, meeting her eyes immediately when she looks over in surprise. As do the other five people in the booth.

"Mason," she croons, getting a smile on her face. "What are you doing here? I thought you had some client business to take care of?" she says, turning her face up to me when I lean down to kiss her.

Though her lips are sweet as sin I don't deepen it, not wanting to embarrass her in front of whoever these people are. Pulling back quickly, my eyes roam down her body, seeing her legs crossed and her cradling her half filled drink in her hand.

"I decided to join my wife," I reply, sitting down on the cushion next to her. I lean back in the seat and cross an ankle over my knee. Pleased when her hand immediately goes to my thigh.

"Everyone, this is Mason, my husband," Melody says cheerfully, introducing me to an aspiring doctor, two lawyers, a wall street banker, and an engineer.

I'm sure there's a joke in there somewhere if I cared to look.

"Pleasure to meet you," I say in a clipped tone.

I give the bottle girl my order and make myself comfortable, picking up quickly that Melody is having a good time talking with them.

Noticing right off the bat she's asking way too many questions about their jobs.

I'm ready to haul her out of here so I can discuss the texts with her, but her talk with me about not being sure what she wanted to do with her career forces me to sit still and let her make connections.

But I'm still irritated with her friend, so I don't add anything to the conversation.

Twenty minutes in, the engineer looks at me curiously, leaning past Melody to catch my gaze. "Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Maybe," I say, swirling my drink in my glass. "Depends."

The wall street broker looks over. "Yeaahhh, I know you. You're Mason King. With King Dynasty financial. I've seen you walking the floor before at Wall Street." His eyes slide to Melody who takes a sip of her drink and keeps quiet. "You didn't say your husband was Mason King."

"Sorry, Lance, it didn't come up," she says simply, shrugging her shoulders.

Usually when people figure out who I am, it's party over so I stand, holding my hand out to Melody who takes it immediately, finally sensing I'm just not in the mood. "Have a great night," I say, waiting until she waves goodbye and puts her drink down to pull her firmly with me and out of the club.

"Mason, why did you even come?" she questions. "You didn't seem like you enjoyed yourself at all."

I click the fob on my car and watch it beep. Opening the door, I gesture for her to get in and then close it back. Rounding the vehicle, I snatch the parking ticket off the windshield wiper and slide into the driver's seat, waiting for Dante to flash his lights before I pull off.

"I came because of this," I say, letting more of my displeasure seep through my tone. I pull out my phone and open it to Karissa's texts and place it in her lap.

I'm met with dead silence as she scrolls through .

After a few minutes she puts my phone in the holder under the radio. "How did you get those? Are you having my texts forwarded to your phone?"

I frown, glancing at her quickly. "What? No," I snap. My voice is rough with irritation. "They just got sent to me."

She scoffs.

"You don't believe me?"

"It's just fucked up, Mason. It doesn't look good."

"No, that," I half yell, pointing at my phone. "That's what doesn’t look good, Melody. Why the fuck was she sending you those texts?"

Melody looks over at me with an uncomfortable expression on her face. "I don't know, okay? This is how she acts sometimes, she just…. she likes to play around."

"No, Melody," I breeze through a yellow light, forcing Dante to run a red. "That's not playing around. She's fucking bad news. What if all I had gotten was the picture of her and jizz all over her face and you saw it? Huh? You would have thought I was cheating with the bitch!"

"Okay, okay, I'll talk to her," Melody says, but I'm so unhappy.

I don't move to take her hand like I normally do, because in my head I'm making a decision that I know is going to test our relationship. She doesn't say another word to me.

She's quiet while I stew the rest of the way home in my anger.

And what's worse is the true reason as to why I'm angry. Because I had a friend once upon a time who almost cost me everything. And in the end, he didn't give two fucks about it. Guilt and betrayal that's four years old sours in my stomach as fresh as if it happened yesterday.

I need her to listen to me, because I don't want her feeling the way I feel .

She's quiet on the elevator ride up to our apartment. I clench onto the paperclip in my pocket until my fingers go numb. It's when I decide to break the silence between us, knowing I'm starting a fight.

"I don't want you seeing her anymore," I tell her quietly, watching her closely as she walks by me and through the front door into our home.

She dumps her purse on the side table against the wall, and instead of kicking off her shoes like she normally does, she heads straight into the den, ignoring me. I clench my jaw and place my wallet and keys next to her things before following her.

The lights illuminate our living area even on the dimmed setting.

The twinkling lights of the city shine through the expansive windows, but I can still see her reflection in the window.

I discard my jacket, draping it across the back of the couch and then sitting on the arm. I lean forward, placing my elbow on my knee, rotating a paperclip in my fingers. "Hey, Mel, am I talking to myself here? Did you hear what I said?"

"I heard you. I'm just wondering what the fuck me still hanging out with Karissa has to do with anything?

" she says, giving me an annoyed look and snatching up a bottle of vodka off the drinks cart.

She pours herself a shot, then makes me a drink, handing it to me and then stepping away to pour herself a chaser.