Kingdom Come

Several orgasms later, I said, “I wish I could stay, but I have to go. Unlike you, I have work to do.”

Her scowl was cute. “I work.”

“You do? Yet you called me to fuck in the middle of the day.”

“Maybe I had an itch,” she said.

“I’m all for scratching,” I said, giving her a lopsided grin.

A part of me wondered if a certain email conversation had gotten my girl horny. I had to figure out a way to bridge the two worlds we were building. Then again, if this was just a fuck as she said, what did the truth matter?

I parked my car in the King Enterprises garage. My father would blow a gasket when he saw I was wearing jeans and a tee. I’d planned to dress the part for today’s meeting, but I’d chosen fucking the blonde over making my father happy. Maybe I was more like my brother than I thought.

“Hi, Connor,” the receptionist said. “Your father will see you in his office.”

I nodded and walked in that direction until I stopped short in front of the office designated for me. One I never used.

“Connor.” Just inside the door stood Charles, my father’s right-hand man and lawyer.

“What are you doing here and in my office?”

Was this a new trend I was missing? Blindsided twice in my workspace.

“Connor.” And for the third time my name was called, the voice had a familiar Irish lilt.

I brushed past Charles and into my office to find my mother standing there with her hands fisted. “I have nothing to say to either of you.”

What could I say to the two people betraying my father in the worst way? His best friend and wife were fucking.

“I think he knows,” Mother said to me, probably worried because the prenup she’d signed would leave her with nothing if she were caught cheating.

“Of course, he knows. You think you could keep that a secret for that long?”

“Did you tell him?”

I chuckled, but it was dark and lacked any resemblance to humor. “Why would I do that? Your shit-storm would take me under too—because he’s my actual father, right?” I pointed at the man standing by the door.

“Keep your voice down, boy.”

I glared at Charles. “Don’t you call me boy. You’re either the man who stood by and let another man raise your son or you’re the coward who sleeps with his best friend’s wife because he can’t get his own. Or maybe both.”

“Listen here,” the old man said. I bet he wanted to stand up to me, but he was a few inches shorter.

Mom got between us. “Stop.”

I just glared at her.

“I promise you, Connor. Royce is your da, but”—she glanced at Charles.

Da was what my mother had called my dad when I was growing up. Do what your da tells you. Don’t argue with your da. It was an Irish thing, and my mother had been born and raised in Ireland. She moved to America when she married my father.

“I’m done with the both of you. When I come back, I don’t expect to see you here.” Mom grabbed my arm, and I pulled away. “Don’t act like you care. I was nothing but a way to make him marry you. As soon as that happened, you shipped me off to boarding school. And we both know how that went.”

I stormed out, afraid I may say something I’d regret. As I walked, I realized I had no one in this world. My brother and I barely knew each other. He’d been raised by his mother in Scotland. We’d only met a couple of years ago and he wasn’t exactly welcoming. He had Griffin, and I had…

“Connor.”

I glanced up to see Royce King walking to his office. The man who may or may not be my father. He waved me in, but his smile quickly disappeared when he noticed I wasn’t dressed for work.

“Can you at least show me some respect?” he said, scorn filling his face.

“I don’t work here.”

It was the wrong thing to say, but Charles and my mother had spoiled my mood and I was looking for a fight.

“You should. You should be the future of the company. Not your brother.”

“We’ve talked about this. A nine-to-five job isn’t my thing.”

“Your thing?” His mouth opened, but he clutched his chest. His face grew redder by the second.

“Dad,” I said, reaching for him as he collapsed to his knees. I caught him in time to lower him to the floor. “Call 9-1-1!”

You never really know how you feel about a person until you’re about to lose them. As the seconds churned into minutes and a blur of activity flew around me, flashes of holidays and Dad showing up to baseball games filled my mind. Yes, he’d been absent for most of my life. But when he was there, he was always fully present.