Page 130 of Wanted

Rawlins was at an impasse. He couldn’t kill the protestors because he didn’t want to alienate his wealthy friends. He wanted his sex island to keep an elusive flair, not turn into a blood bath.

“I don’t want to go,” Kamila protested. Dressed in a turquoise dress with no makeup, she stood by the door with her arms crossed in front of her chest. “I. Don’t. Want. To. Go.”

Her eyes were bloodshot. I’d familiarized myself with torture until Kamila waltzed into my life, testing all of my theories. I was desensitized to pain. It didn’t mean much to me. I even found pleasure in it. I hurt the little queen because I got a kick out of it.

Witnessing the little queen hurt by somebody other than me genuinely messed with my ego.

She grieved the loss of her mother’s murderer. She didn’t speak of Alex’s absence. She struggled to find a solution to help the people who were suffering outside of the palace.

Kamila didn’t play anymore.

“We’ve been here before,” Jordan said, glaring at us. He’d lost the beanie. Now, his hair was braided, and his beard was back. “You have to do this.”

She muttered something at Jordan under her breath, but he ignored it. The little queen stormed out of her house, past the guards that were still stationed on her property.

Why wasn’t I the source of her distress?

I had earned it. I had failed to protect my little queen. I’d committed a horrible mistake, yet she wasn’t angry at me.

Alex was. He hadn’t spoken to me ever since he landed in Indianapolis. Eight weeks were far too long to exist without Alex’s warm, prying nature.

Two months ago, once the earthquake was over, my favorite set of Katantians left their bunker in the palace. My little queen was too stunned by the destruction. You see, she thought we were the same, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Kamila shuddered at the sight of suffering while I reveled in it.

Kamila was distraught by the aftermath of the said earthquake. She didn’t notice that her father had miraculously produced a gun to shoot his daughter.

Spencer’s guards stormed in, ushering the brothers away before I could mess with them for harming my little queen.

When I arrived, Travis was bleeding out at my little queen’s feet. He couldn’t have found a more suitable way to die. I envisioned my final breaths the same way.

However, I didn’t want Kamila to cry over me. I’d tell her to smile and kiss me goodbye, for I’d finally reached the end of my miserable existence on this horrid earth full of deceit.

Once I caught up to Kamila on the street to the palace, she grabbed my arm. I didn’t mind being seen in public when she was near. We hadn’t discussed the touching part. One day, she started touching my arm for support. She found comfort, knowing I was close. If she had been looking for punishment, she didn’t receive it. Jordan didn’t allow kinky play in Kamila’s house, and I obeyed him. I’d drugged his son with a syringe full of drugs that knocked his 6’9” out. For the rest of my days, I’d sleep with one eye open.

“Do you miss him?” I asked Kamila as we strolled toward the palace. She took my breath away in her cherry red waves of hair and her turquoise dress. She had asked for a lot in life, but looking this effortlessly electrifying hadn’t been on her wish list.

“Can we not discuss him? Please.”

Once upon a time, I couldn’t stop her from blabbering. Now, I found myself begging for her pretty lips to move and reveal all her secrets.

“Your husband misses you as much as you miss him,” I told her. She shook her head.

“Stop it. I don’t care who misses whom more. Can you hear this?” She gestured with her slender arms. I followed her movements, mesmerized by her flawless skin. Her delicate fingers were long, and the cubicles were chewed on. She’d forgotten her royal etiquette, and it wasn’t a product of my repugnance of her roots.

“My country’s in shambles. They’re suffering, but nobody’s listening to them.” I ignored the chants from the crowds outside. Their time was coming.

“And?”

Her dry laugh made my scars itch uncomfortably. “I can’t do this for much longer. The pretense has to stop. People have died. Homelessness has risen by twenty-five percent. Guess who the frontrunner is? Women.”

I found out the true meaning of joy when Kamila finally started growing into her role of my little queen. Nonchalantly, I repeated, “And?”

“Aram and his measly big brother can go fuck themselves!” My heartbeat stopped for a moment. She didn’t even notice it because she was trapped in her cell of worry. I didn’t fit in there at the moment. “They’re letting their people suffer. They’re waiting for all of this to blow over. Spencer’s stupid aircrafts have been waiting empty at the airport because nobody wants to leave their home behind. Katantia isn’t just a sex island. It’s a way of life, and you can’t just kick people out. Spencer has no right to remove those that want to rebuild. Watching Katantia burn and hoping that it won’t backfire is the most idiotic decision my father’s ever made.”

Inertly, I sighed in satisfaction. “Agreed.”

Quickly, I added, “What do you want, Kamila?”

She rolled her eyes at me. A gesture that she’d pay for one day when the game was back on. “It doesn’t matter what I want, Fylox.”