Page 55 of Volatile King (The Kings of Wayward Academy #6)

R en

How the hell had Nash talked me into this? To be honest, I wasn’t sure how he talked me into anything, but he always seemed to get his way. So now here I was, in the backseat between Myles and Blake while Liam rode shotgun next to Marcus. Theo had gone ahead to pick up dinner.

There were two armored vehicles in front of us and two more behind us. Through the tinted windows, I saw people stopping on the sidewalk to watch the procession pass by, like a royal was in town and the media had forgotten to alert everyone.

Opening my phone, I found the text message chain that had started at lunch.

NASHOLE: I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I owe you an explanation.

That was a strong start for Nash, considering. He was normally all Hey Princess, I know you’re mad, but let me fuck you and make it all better. Ha. Ha.

R: Actually, you’re wrong. I do want to talk to you.

NASHOLE: Really?

R: Yes.

NASHOLE: Hmm…this feels too easy.

R: Like a trap?

NASHOLE: Kind of, yeah.

R: Yeah, that feeling sucks. Kind of like the feeling of being lied to, taken advantage of, lied to again, and then forced to marry someone without knowing about it.

NASHOLE: Sooo…what you’re really saying is that room to breathe hasn’t helped, and you’re still furious.

R: Fucking right I am.

NASHOLE: Meet me tonight.

R: What? I’m not meeting you anywhere. It always ends in disaster, or the two of us in bed.

NASHOLE: Us in bed is not a disaster.

R: Nash! Take this seriously.

NASHOLE: Sorry. This location is safe. It’s my condo. Bring the guys, I don’t care. I just can’t talk to you in Edmundo’s house.

R: Why?

NASHOLE: Let’s just say it’s awkward.

R: Now you’re scared of my father. That didn’t seem to be a factor when you consummated our marriage, which I knew nothing about.

NASHOLE: Ren, please.

God, I’d been so tempted to tell him to go to hell, to go fuck himself, to jump off a building without a parachute, but I didn’t.

R: Fine. What time?

NASHOLE: Come for 8. Liam knows where it is.

There had been a long pause when I didn’t respond to his last text.

Little bubbles had appeared and disappeared, and I pictured him typing and then erasing what he’d written.

Good, feel uncertain you asswipe, asshole, assfart, ass…

something worse that I couldn’t come up with.

Eventually, he had given up because I didn’t get anything else, and for whatever reason, that had pissed me off more.

Reading and re-reading our text chain wasn’t helping my mood, so I locked my phone and put it away. Myles rubbed my leg, and when I looked over, he mouthed, It will be okay . I wanted to believe him, truly. But…all my walls were back up and firmly in place.

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up in front of a fancy condo building. Of course, it was the only one on the street that was black with gray accents. It was so Nash.

My confrontation with Nash was well underway in my mind as we were escorted out of the SUV and flanked by a wall of guards.

An elderly woman holding a little dog in her arms looked like she was going to faint when we marched inside.

I gave her a small smile, hoping she didn’t turn around and call the cops. That would be our luck.

The four of us, plus Marcus and another guard, loaded into the elevator. Liam pushed the button for the penthouse. Reaching out, I tapped the guard I didn’t know on the arm. He flinched like I’d hit him, before looking down at me.

“Hi,” I said.

He glanced at Marcus, like he wasn’t allowed to speak to me and was asking for permission.

“Hello,” he finally answered.

Myles bit his lip to keep from laughing, but Blake was doing a terrible job and snickered.

“What…is your…title…person?” I sighed and shook my head. “What is…your name,” I asked, slower, but correct this time. His eyes softened.

“I’m Massimo, but you can call me Mo.” He smiled, just as the elevator came to a stop.

“Nice to…meet you…Mo,” I said, stepping out into the hallway.

The little wall plaque showed four condos on this floor. We followed Marcus around the corner, and a guard stood in front of what I assumed was Nash’s home.

My stomach flipped, anticipating the fight. I had no idea what I was going to do when I saw Nash, but with each step, my anger rose higher. The guard rapped his knuckles on the door.

It opened, and there he was in all his stupid, sexy, asshole glory. Our eyes locked, and I reminded myself that I was pissed.

“Come in,” Nash said, stepping back and inviting us in. Marcus and Mo left once we were across the threshold, and I kind of wished they’d stayed. It would be so much easier to ask Marcus to shoot Nash for me. Just a flesh wound, but one he’d remember.

“Damn, you’ve been holding out on us,” Myles said, whistling low. “Why is this the first time we’ve been invited to yer pad?”

“So that I don’t find your ass on my couch every morning,” Nash teased with a smirk.

“Rude,” Myles said, following the scent of food like a bloodhound.

Theo waved from the kitchen and pointed to the bags and boxes of take-out. Despite the fresh aroma of pizza I couldn’t eat, not yet.

The large living room window looked out over the city. When I got closer, I realized there was also a great view of the mountain near Wayward. It was lavish and picturesque with the snowcapped giant in the distance.

The condo was much like the club with its sleek modern style, warm accents, and similarity to Nash’s personality. The hard- as-nails exterior grated on you, but there were small moments when he was…different.

The guys wandered around, looking in the fridge, inspecting the bar and the pool table in the corner, and trying out the long leather couches.

Nash stayed close, out of arm’s reach, but still close.

That was smart because I really wanted to hit him.

I felt his eyes on me and gave up trying to ignore him.

I slowly turned to acknowledge his presence.

“Do you like it?”

I nodded. “Yes…it’s very you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Still undecided,” I said, and he cleared his throat.

“Can we talk privately?”

Sucking in a deep breath, I nodded and followed him in the opposite direction the guys had gone. Walking—willingly—into his bedroom was probably a terrible idea. No…there was no probably…it was a terrible idea.

I brushed against him in the hallway and hated that he smelled delicious. Dark, sultry, and brooding. That was Nash, and I expected nothing less when we got to his room.

This space felt more like him, with more of his personality than what I saw briefly at his father’s house. I hadn’t really gotten the opportunity to look around that night before I was pushed up against the door.

A soft glow in the corner drew my attention.

The glass tank looked empty from where I stood, and my curiosity got the best of me.

I walked over but stopped short. What if there was a giant spider in there?

If there was, then I was fucking running out of this room and not stopping until I got in the SUV.

Instead of a horrible arachnid, I found a pure white snake with vibrant blue eyes.

“That’s Cora,” Nash said from right behind me. “She’s a Blue-eyed Lucy.”

“Lu…lu…leucistic ball python,” I said, proud that I managed to get that tongue twister out at all. She was stunning, and at another time I would’ve asked to hold her, but not tonight. We had things to settle.

“Yeah. Someone I know inspired the purchase when Velvet, my black snake, died last year.”

Nash had hardly shared anything about himself. I didn’t even know he had another snake. All I really knew was that he loved being in a pool and hated his father. Other than that, I had no idea what his favorite song, food, or color was, or if he preferred boxers over briefs.

Turning to face him, I crossed my arms and waited. He stared at me, saying nothing. The ball was in his court now. There was no way I was starting the apology, explanation, or whatever he had in mind when he asked for a private conversation.

“I don’t know what to say.”

He couldn’t have chosen anything more frustrating to spit out than that.

Before he could react, I slapped him so hard that the crack echoed in the room. Nash stumbled back, holding his cheek as I advanced on him.

He looked shocked when I pushed him in the chest and forced him back further. The anger I’d managed to keep in check all week was finally set free, and it had a target.

“Ren, stop,” he said.

Instead, I peeled off my bomber jacket and tossed it at him. When he reached up to grab it, I punched him in the side. Nash winced and groaned. Liam would’ve been impressed with that one.

“Princess, I don’t want to hurt you.”

That was the last straw. I went full rabid animal on his ass.

“Too…late,” I growled.

Every strike landed perfectly. We traveled around the room, but Nash wasn’t really fighting as he ducked or blocked my blows. That only pissed me off more. I wanted the fight. I wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt me.

“I didn’t set out to hurt you,” Nash said as he blocked a right cross.

“But you did,” I said and kicked at his knee, barely missing as he jumped back.

When I brought my leg up to kick him in the side, Nash grabbed it and pulled me into him, keeping me off balance. He moved me backward, and I hopped awkwardly. I put my hands up to protect the back of my head, preparing to be smashed into the wall.

Nash stopped just shy, gently pushing me up against it with his body and pinning me in place. Before I could scratch his eyes out, he dropped my leg, snatched my wrists in his hand, and held them above my head.

I was still fuming. My heart hammered inside my ribcage. My pulse was so high that it made me lightheaded.

“I hate you,” I said clearly.

“I know,” Nash said, and then he kissed me.