The Broken Puppet (The Elite King's Club 2)

“Fuck!” He pauses, catching his breath. I count to five in my head, attempting to slow my erratic breathing—and hormones. Closing my eyes, he leans his forehead against the wall beside my head, my sex pressing against his stomach and my legs still wrapped around his waist.

“We can’t do this—and I can’t fucking believe I just said that, because God fucking knows I want this with you, Mads.” He places soft kisses on my collarbone.

“How long?” I whisper out.

“How long what?” he replies, his lips brushing over my shoulder and his lip ring leaving a cool sensation in its wake.

“How long have you been in love with me?”

He pauses and squeezes me tightly. “Longer than you know.”

I pull in a breath. “Nate,” I warn. “I know I feel something for you too. I mean, I always have. And I’ve always fought it—but love? I mean I love you. I love you so very much, but in love? That’s not something I know.”

He steps back, placing me back down to my feet slowly and picking up my towel again, wrapping it around my body. He tightens the front and smiles a sweet smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Placing a small kiss on my forehead, he whispers, “I know.” Then he walks out the bathroom and into his bedroom, and just like that, everything is back to normal.

Did I just imagine that? He came into my bathroom like a tornado, leaving a massacre of feelings behind. Fucking Nate Riverside. Fucker. But I love that fucker, very much, but if I were to compare the two feelings—Nate and Bishop—they’re oh so different. Both intense, but incredibly different. Now I’ve just got to figure out what means what. Like a love puzzle of mass destruction, only we don’t know who will pull the trigger. I slide under my sheets, and then twist and turn for hours until I finally get some sleep.

I got shit for sleep last night, and I haven’t been able to stomach any food all morning. The hangover of doom awaited me with the sun this morning, and now I don’t want to live, let alone adult. Throwing on some sweatpants and a loose white tee, I walk downstairs, twisting my hair up into a messy bun.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Elena greets. She’s chopping up all sorts of fruit and putting them into the blender to make one of her godawful smoothies.

“Morning.” I, on the other hand, head straight for the pot of coffee, praising the gods when I see it’s full.

“Sleep well?” she asks, putting the lid on the blender and unleashing hell upon my ears.

“Actually,” I yell over her intrusion that comes compacted in green slime. “I slept like shit!” I yell, only she cut off the blender just in time that I didn’t just yell; I sort of screamed.

“Wow.” Nate grins, walking into the kitchen with dark sweatpants and no shirt on. I quickly avert my eyes, guilt washing over me as I think back to what happened between us last night. “I would have thought you slept like a baby, sis.” Instantly, I cut my eyes to his and growl under my breath. He did not just “sis” me after we were seconds away from doing the deed not long ago.

“Well, I didn’t,” I snap at him, sipping on my coffee and making my way to one of the barstools.

“Oh, well that’s unfortunate.” Elena bounces around the kitchen in her running gear, slurping on her green juice. “I have some flaxseed oil that might help you with sleeping, Madison. It has a good history, and—”

“Thanks,” I interrupt. Usually I’m not so rude, but I have a pounding headache from Hades, and horns are starting to grow out of my head. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I offer her a little smile, leaning on my elbows and massaging my temples. Elena walks out, leaving Nate and me together in the kitchen alone.

“You all right?” He grins at me, leaning against the counter and sipping on a mug of coffee. Something so natural but looks way too smoking coming from Nate. I need to get out of here.

“Fine!” I clear my throat, standing to my feet.

“Where you going?” he yells from behind me as I take the first step upstairs.

“Going to shoot shit.”

AFTER I’VE PACKED UP MY guns, I load them into the back of the Range Rover and slip into the driver seat before making my way to the area my dad and I used to shoot when I was a kid. I remember it vaguely, and it’s a bit of a drive away, but I need some time away from my house and everyone in my life. I’m starting to get cabin fever, or people fever, so I think hiding out where I have good memories as a kid is the best way to ground myself again.