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

“Why?” she snaps back at Nate.

He exhales, folding up the blanket and tossing it onto the chair. “Let’s start with, it’s none of your fucking business, and finish with, you’ll just end up pissing off both our best friends.” Nate stops, raising his eyebrows at her in challenge.

She squares up. “How about… your best friend is a piece of shit, because while my best friend, AKA his….” She looks to me, and then looks to Nate, and then looks back to me again. “What are you two anyway?” she whispers.

I shrug. “Not something, but not nothing either.”

Tatum’s face drops. She’s not impressed. “Madi, no, that’s not a good place to be with a guy, because they have no rules and no boundaries. Men are simple creatures. They need lines. Simple lines.”

“Well it works for us right now,” I answer, pushing myself up off my bed. When she doesn’t reply, I look at her. “Honestly, it really works for us right now. Whatever we have, it needs to be built slowly. We’re too explosive. We wouldn’t just blow each other up if this goes wrong; we’d take you all down with us.”

Tatum mulls over what I’ve said and then walks back toward Nate. She spins around. “Okay, fine!”

“But…,” I add.

Nate tosses the pillow on the other side of the room. “I knew it. I fucking knew this was coming.”

“Fuck you,” I snicker at him before looking back to Tatum. “What was it you saw?”

She searches my eyes then looks to Nate, and I brace myself. Brace myself for what everyone does when Nate, Bishop, or Brantley are in the room. It would probably happen if any of the other Kings were in the room too, but I just haven’t been in the position. Tatum tilts her back as laughter erupts from her. Sarcastic laughter, but still laughter. She clutches her stomach, bringing her glare right back to Nate. “Naaw, Natey, I don’t owe you or your pack of wolves shit. My loyalty is to Madison.” She pauses and looks to me. “If I go missing, check their houses first.” Then she slices to Nate. “She is my best friend, so fuck you and fuck Bishop.”

“Fuck me?” Nate grins, and I fight the urge to massage my temples. “Well, you sure did, baby girl. Last night, in fact.”

“Oh, gross, with me in the same room? Really?” I look at Tatum, because I expect more from her, though I really shouldn’t.

She giggles. “My bad.”

Rolling my eyes, I tilt my head up to the ceiling. “You were saying, Tate?” Bracing myself for the worst, while having an internal argument that whatever Bishop does is none of my business, Tatum opens her mouth.

“He had her up against the wall. He was… he….”

I don’t need her to finish. I already know what she’s going to say, and though I hate it, my heart sinks a little, and it’s like sand has been siphoned down my airways every time I swallow. “He fucked her,” I whisper through a clenched throat, swiping at the stray tear that has fallen down my cheek. Why do I care? I have no right to care. We’re not together; we’ve never been official. This is probably why he didn’t want us to go official, because he wanted to be a slut, and sluts don’t like relationships.

But he’s also told me things, things you shouldn’t tell people unless you want them to grow feelings for you. My blood starts to boil a little before I start imagining what they were doing while I was in the hospital bed, what they—

“Madison!” Tatum snaps at me, clicking her fingers. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, girl! You really know how to zone out and get lost in that brain of yours.” She has no idea. “As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me”—she looks at me pointedly—“he had her up against the wall… by her throat.”

I pause, blinking and catching what she’s saying. So what? Bishop chokes me out during sex to the point of blacking out. What’s her point?

She laughs, shaking her head. “No, you stupid cow. As in he was about to kill her.”

Nate stills. “For the record, this is why we don’t tell you anything. Remember this moment when you’re throwing a tantrum about how you don’t know anything.” He tugs on his hoodie, zipping it up. Walking toward me, he presses a kiss to my head, hooking his finger under my chin to tilt my face up to his. “I’ll go get the house ready for you, okay?”

I nod. “Thanks, Nate.”

“Anytime.” He smiles at me softly before glaring at Tatum. “Shut your mouth, Tate. Watch what you say if you like breathing.”

She rolls her eyes and sits on the bed. Once Nate is out of the room, I look toward Tatum. I can see she’s a little upset about the way Nate has been acting all morning. “For the record,” I note, “I totally said you and Nate sleeping together would be a bad idea.”