“Clearly,” he agreed firmly. “But marriage isn’t something that you just end on a whim, Cressida. We’ve been together for eight years. Everyone says we are the perfect couple and we are, can’t you see that? Doesn’t that mean something to you?”
“Unfortunately for us both, it doesn’t mean much,” I admitted softly. I knew he wouldn’t agree with me.
I turned to my mum who was wringing her hands in front of her and darting her eyes back and forth between King and Zeus. Honestly, I got it. I’d never seen them side by side and I was grateful that they were behind me because they were a distracting duo. Of course, my mother was probably imagining all the ways they could kill her while a normal woman would be driven to distraction by all the ways they could do her, but it was kind of the same thing.
“I would love it if you wanted to stay and get to know my new friends but I understand that this is hard for you. I’ve been dependent on you my entire life, even when I was with William, so I can give you the time to adjust if you need it. That said, I need you to understand that this ‘pile of kindling’ and these ‘bikers’ are my life now and I. Am. Happy. In fact, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. So, if you need to go then please do, because they are staying.”
I crossed my arms and, like a boy band following the lead singer, the Garros crossed their arms in unison behind me.
My family hesitated a beat too long because King lunged forward, snapping his teeth and barked at William, “Beat it before I beat you.”
As one, my parents and William collected their belongings and headed out the door without a backwards look. I watched from the window over the sink as my mother hesitated by the car, her hand on my father’s shoulder, probably wondering if it was safe for me to be alone with criminals. Whatever it was, my father closed it down and they got into the car and took off.
“Fuck,” I whispered brokenly as soon as their car disappeared up the steep drive.
Immediately, King pressed against my back and his arms looped around me tighter than rope. “I got you,” he murmured.
I turned into him and burst into tears.
Dimly, I was aware of Harleigh Rose and Zeus moving into the living room to give us a modicum of privacy, but I was too busy soaking the front of King’s tee to mind.
“They don’t deserve your tears, babe, but if you gotta cry, do it now and get it out. Don’t want you to do it alone,” King murmured.
I cried harder.
What in the world had I done to deserve a man like him?
And what in the world had I done to deserve meeting him as his freaking teacher?
“Okay, time to stop now,” King ordered after a good five minutes.
“Okay,” I sniffed but didn’t take my head from the front of his shirt because I had snot trailing from both nostrils.
With firm but gentle hands, he pried me from his shirt, stared down into my disgusting face and then leaned over to rip off a piece of paper towel. I took it from him and blew my nose slightly turned away from him. When I turned back he was smiling at me and I knew he was going to tease before he said, “’S a good thing I slept with you last night and you showed me how sweet you can be between the sheets, otherwise I’d probably be out the door after the fuckin’ Stepford family standoff.” He shuddered dramatically. “Don’t know how you lived with ‘em for so long, babe.”
“I was one of them, King,” I acknowledged. “I still kind of am. I’m so beyond grateful to your family for white knighting me out of that situation but there’s still a part of me that they reared that says you guys are criminals and it’s scary for me to be a part of that, especially after my brother went to prison when I was eighteen.” King’s face widened then creased in surprise. “And there’s another part of me that William created that doesn’t even understand why you’d be into me in the first place. You’re eighteen years old with your entire life ahead of you. You are so smart and gorgeous and charming… Why in the world would you choose to hitch your wagon to me?”
“Maybe because you’re fuckin’ adorable when you say things like ‘hitch your wagon’ and ‘for Pete’s sake’ like you’re from 19th century England,” he joked.
When I only smiled weakly, he raked a hand through the hair I’d tousled myself only that morning and hoisted me onto the counter. He spread my legs with his thighs and put his hand in its place on the back of my neck.