Kings of Blood and Money (Underworld Kings)

“I’m sure that wouldn’t make the news.” I snort.

“Does your father even care if you go home?” she asks. It’s not to be spiteful, but it stings, nonetheless. Releasing a shuddering breath, I think about the man we both call Father.

It’s been eleven years, and calling that man Father still causes a reflux in my throat, as if my body rejects the notion. Even though he’s the man who’s taken care of me, paid my tuition, sent money for clothes and anything else I’ve needed, he’s never really played a father role. He’s never hugged me. Never told me he loved me. Never said he was proud of me. I don’t know why he kept me. And now, I’m on my way back to him…to them.

Them.

Images of Noah’s cold stare paralyze my chest. As if reading my mind, Ivy asks, “Do they care?”

Noah and Remi.

Thoughts of the boys who share a face cause a soft headache over my eyes. My stomach vaults, nausea stirring my breakfast around. Those two are a wreckage I left behind and try desperately not to think about, but it’s impossible to forget the boys who affect the very fabric of my soul. Dark and light, equally impactful.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly as I turn on my lights, the clouds above darkening the roads.

“Well, I do envy you getting to be around those fuck me right now male forms.” She moans. “What I wouldn’t give to sit on those faces.”

“You’re terrible. Haven’t you found someone to take those frustrations out on yet? You’ve been home a week.”

“Yes, but he’s packing a power tool and has zero clue how to wield it. It’s heart breaking.”

“You could teach him.” I clutch the steering wheel as a car passes me too freaking close.

“I’m trying, Frey, I’m really trying.”

“What a service you’re doing for his future lovers.” I chuckle, picturing her cussing him out mid thrust.

“Are you ever going to invite me to your house? I could extend my services to those stepbrothers of yours—or you could,” she huffs. I’ve never thought to invite her because I highly doubt I’d even be allowed. It isn’t my place to invite guests.

“One, they’re not my stepbrothers. And two, I repulse them, so there’s that.”

Her bark of laughter pierces the quiet around me, startling me. “Bullshit.”

“It’s the truth.” Well, maybe not Remi. I never have told her they hardly notice when I’m even there. I’m not part of their family. Not really. I’ve never thought of them as my stepbrothers, but I suppose she’s right. On paper, they technically are. If only they felt that way. Instead, whenever I walk into a room, dark clouds follow, a storm in their sunny life.

“Freya, you’re the hottest girl I know. You’re stupid beautiful. Seriously, sometimes it makes me want to punch you in the damn face just to cause a blemish to make you more like the rest of us.”

She’s crazy. Her face and body are straight out a magazine. “Have you been snorting your mother’s medication again?” I tease.

“How old are they now? They may not even be there.”

I hadn’t thought about that. Doing the math, I murmur, “Twenty-two.”

“Damn, they could have their own places, girlfriends, kids.”

My stomach clenches, ice shooting into my veins. “I doubt they’ve had kids since the last time I saw them, Ivy.”

What if they do?

“Which one was it who always had a girl over?” She shuffles around, and the clear sound of her crunching something in her mouth makes my stomach growl.

Remi.

That boy is insatiable. He has girls lining up to quench his thirst.

“Remi,” I moan, coming to a stop sign and slowly easing out onto another road.

“Remi, that’s it. And Noah is the one who makes you turn green whenever I say his name.”

“I do not,” I snap defensively. But she’s right. He incites such a response, my body goes into fight or flight and loses both.

“You do so. That’s a trauma response, Frey. Maybe you should confront him while you’re there. Clear the air. Might make life more bearable.”

I’m not the girl I was when I left there last summer. His cruelty hardened me. I’m not going to live in fear or shame any longer. Their father is the one who kept me. Took me there and made me be part of their family. I’m done being Noah’s punching bag. My foot pushes down on the gas as memories swirl in my head.

“Frey, you still there?”

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right,” I whisper.

“Babe, I’m always right. How long you got until you’re there?”

I flit my eyes to the navigation, groaning. “Three hours.”

“That sucks. I have to get ready for a family dinner, but I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“Okay. Have fun.”

“I’d have more fun sticking pins in my eyes. I love you, bitch.”

“I love you too.”

The phone goes dead, and the silence feels deafening. Three hours to think about the boys who are now men.