Cruel Infatuation (Underground Kings 3)

“Really, anything. Whenever you want to talk about what happened,” he says.

“Thank you.” We don’t say much else as we drive down the wet, foggy road. The twists and turns surprise me, but the views don’t disappoint. I can’t stop looking out the window and seeing the canopies of the trees disappearing into the thunderous clouds. There’s a gray hue on everything because of the storm coverage, fog, and rain, but I know these forests are just as green as Isaac—Grayson—said they were.

If Isaac doesn’t want me, I’m going to live in these woods for the rest of my life. I’ll never have to worry about someone hurting me or using me again.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s the best place to be. Our little town is a hidden gem, and I want to keep it that way. Don’t go telling all your friends.” Officer Howard shakes a finger at me playfully as he pulls off to the side of the road.

Why are we stopping?

My backpack is between my legs, and I can try for the gun, but I know it won’t matter. He’ll probably be a quicker drawl then me.

“Okay,” he says. The car jerks as he puts it in park, and he turns in his seat to look at me. “Sorry, I can only go this far. There driveway gets a bit rough when the weather is like this, and I don’t think this car will make it out of there.”

I blow out a trapped breath and laugh. I’m an idiot. There’s been no reason for me to doubt the cop in front of me. He’s been nothing but nice.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just a memory. Thank you, Officer Howard. I appreciate the lift.”

“No problem, ma’am. Just doing my job.” He gives me a small salute as I shut the door. My feet slosh in the wet ground and mud, and the tires spray water on me as he does a U-turn, but it’s nothing too severe.

He rolls down his window and waves, vanishing into the smoke of the storm. With my heart in my throat, it turn around and stare down the dark driveway. On either side there are woods, and the road is big enough to fit a truck through. It looks like they have to trim away branches because the trees are too close.

Well, the driveway is too close to the trees. I’m going to take a wild guess

and say the trees were here first. This is it.

This is either the road to my sanctuary.

Or the next place I’ll call hell.

Chapter Nine

GRAYSON

It’s early in the morning, and the waves are crashing vehemently against the cliff, sending foam to the thick glass barricading the windows. It’s what I love about living on a cliff. The waves can get so unpredictable, sometimes they engulf us, but we are safe inside. It’s a wild sight. I love sitting near the breakfast nook, drinking my coffee, and watching a storm rage. Everything around us turns into a symphony. The trees bend and the leaves rustle, the rain pelts against the ground and the waves roll and rock, lightning cracks and thunder growls.

It’s fucking beautiful.

“How’s Dillion?” Jaxon asks as he pours himself a cup of coffee. He’s still waking up. His hair is messy, and his eyes are barely open. He must have slept hard because he has a pillow crease imprint on his cheek.

“He’s still asleep. I’m worried. He passed out at like eight last night. It’s nearly seven in the morning. Do you think it’s his cancer? What if he isn’t sleeping?” I stand quickly and knock my mug over from tilting the table, but I don’t care. “What if he is in a coma?” I scrub my hands down my face and begin to walk out of the kitchen when Jaxon grabs me.

He throws a rag against my face, and I catch it before it falls and hits the ground. “Clean that up, and no, it isn’t his cancer. There’s a time difference. He went to sleep eleven his time. He’s just exhausted. Give it a few more hours before you start worrying.”

I chuckle as I clean up my mess. “Stop worrying? It’s all I’ve done is worry. I didn’t sleep a wink last night. I’m afraid he’ll stop breathing, man. I have a kid, and he’s sick.” I scrub the floor harder, taking my anger out on it instead of using someone’s face.

Jaxon squats beside me and stops my hand from attempting to dig a hole. “I know. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I want us to celebrate that he’s here. Whatever happens, we’re in this together, okay? You aren’t alone. You feel overwhelmed? You feel angry? You feel sad? Come to me. We aren’t going to let this win. Right now, don’t think of him as a sick son. Think of him as a son. I know the chances of him surviving this are ten percent, but you know what? We’ve made things happen on less odds. He can beat this.” Jaxon wraps an arm around my shoulder and gives me a side hug.

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

“I know,” he says, sipping his coffee loudly.

The buzzer rings, and Jaxon and I look toward the door. He presses against a secret compartment door against the bottom of the table and pulls out a gun with a silencer attached. Damn, I forgot that was there.

Weapons are all over the house like that now that I think about it.

“I’m getting really tired of that damn doorbell ringing,” he speaks as we stand in unison.