Cross (Dark Kings 3)

I was wrong.

“You gotta stick up for yourself here, Lex,” Jasmine goes on.

“Okay—” She turns and jerks me forward once again by my hand, cutting me off.

We make our way down a flight of escalators that don’t work and to an open area. It looks like it was once the food court, maybe. But now, a large bar runs along the right wall. A makeshift ring is to the right of it. People crowd around it like they’re waiting for something to happen.

“Legends Are Made,” by Sam Tinnesz blares from speakers that hang from the ceiling, and with further observation, I see black domes—security cameras. Well, that makes me feel a little better, but for all I know, they could be fake. Jasmine pulls us over to the bar, shoving others out of our way like she owns the place.

“Two shots of Patrón and two Long Islands,” she yells at one of the bartenders.

The guy with a ring in his nose nods at her and turns to start making our drinks.

“Why did you bring me here tonight?” I ask, placing my elbow on the bar top.

“Because you needed a night out,” she says simply with a big smile on her porcelain face. “You deserve it for as much as you work.”

I nod, unable to disagree with her. I’ve been trying to get a night off for weeks now. But when you own a business, you never stop. Not unless you want to lose money. And that is unacceptable if you ask me. If you want it, you have to fight for it. I’ve never had a problem with going after what I want. How will you ever know if you don’t try?

“Plus, when was the last time you got laid?” she asks.

I mumble, “Too long.” But I don’t want to make that mistake again.

“Exactly.” Bumping her hip into mine, she laughs. “Gotta get some D.”

I’m not here to hook up with anyone. Pretty sure no one here is my type anyway.

The bartender comes back over to us. “Here you go, Jasmine.” He calls her by name, and it just confirms that she comes here too often. He places our shot glasses in front of us.

She hands him her card. “Start a tab for me, please?”

“Got it, babe.” And he’s off again.

“I have cash …”

“Nonsense.” She waves me off before I can even finish what I was saying.

I sigh but don’t argue with her. Jasmine is the type of woman who gets whatever she wants. And going to war with her over a few drinks just isn’t worth it. I’ve known her for about a year now, and she’s one of my closest friends other than April. I’ve been friends with April since we were kids, but ever since she got pregnant, she no longer goes out. Her baby daddy is Grave—a Dark King. And he takes up all of her time. As it should be. She’s really happy, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.

Jasmine has introduced me to a couple of other girls, one who happens to be married to another King. But again, I don’t get to hang out with them much. I like to keep my circle small. Plus, when you’re always working, it doesn’t leave much time for a social life.

“Cheer up.” Jasmine turns to face me with a smile on her face. She’s gorgeous in that “I don’t have to try hard” way. She dyes her short hair red, and it really complements her bright blue eyes. “I promise nothing will happen to you here. I know the Mason brothers.”

“How well?” I challenge.

The Mason brothers’ reputation is about the same as the Dark Kings—you fuck with them, you’re dead.

Her red-painted lips pull back, showing off her white pearly teeth. “One of them I know extremely well.”

I laugh and clarify, “So, you slept with him?”

“Of course, I did. And if you saw him, you’d spread your legs too.” She winks at me.

“What are you girls doing here?” a man demands from behind us, cutting off my laughter.

We spin around to see two faces I recognize. They stand out in any crowd they walk through. Grave and Cross, two of the Dark Kings. You can’t miss them. All four Kings are over six feet tall and covered in ink. Not to mention their presence just screams get the fuck out of my way. If you caught yourself alone with them in a dark alley, you’d clutch your purse tighter while your pussy would do the same for its own reason. They’re dark, deadly, and extremely fucking attractive in a way that begs drag me to hell and show me what it’s like to burn.

If you knew my track record with men, you’d know that I can pick them. And a King would be at the top of the list.