Cross (Dark Kings 3)

“I don’t now … I did when I found her in my bed with him … and we were engaged at the time.”

I did my research on her. Social media told me that she was once engaged, but he cheated on her? With Rachel? Knowing both of their track records, I’m honestly not that surprised. “I’m sorry,” I say.

“Are you?” she questions, licking her lips.

There’s no telling how much she had to drink while the Kings and I were down in the basement. It took longer than I expected it to. “Of course …”

“Because if he hadn’t cheated on me, I wouldn’t be here with you right now.”

“Good point. No. I’m not sorry. I lied. I take it back.”

She laughs softly. “Rachel told me that you fired her because I’m insecure. I never once asked you to do that.”

“It needed to be done,” I say.

“Because of me?”

“Yes and no. I was with you. I only wanted to be with you, and she wanted something that I refused to give her.” I reach over and grab her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing her knuckles. “I didn’t want any additional problems in my way to getting to you.”

“She said that you’d go back to her just like Mitch did.”

I sigh, lowering her hand to my lap but keep ahold of it with mine. “She was feeding you lies, and you ate them up like you were starving.”

“No. I wasn’t.” She snorts. “I was a little drunk and a lot pissed. I couldn’t care less about Mitch, but you … I care about you.” She lowers her voice. “I love you, Cross.”

“I love you too, gorgeous.” My thumb gently rubs over her knuckles while resting on my thigh.

“I’m so tired.” She yawns.

“And also drunk,” I add with a laugh.

We pull up to the private back entrance of Kingdom and exit the car. Making our way up the stairs and into the double doors.

She leans into me, her head rolling across my shoulder. I reach down and slide my arm behind her knees and pick her up, carrying her into the elevator.

Once I get her up to the Royal Suite, I help get her undressed and into my bed. She opens up her pretty green eyes. “Get some rest.” I lean down and kiss her head.

I go to walk away, but she reaches out, gripping my shirt. Looking down at her, she blinks, her drunken stare trying to focus. “Did you kill whoever it was?” she asks, letting go of my shirt, running her fingers over the dried blood.

I expected to have this conversation tomorrow once she’s sober and pieces together all of tonight’s events. “Yeah. He’s dead,” I tell her.

“Why? Did he hurt you?” she asks through a yawn.

I kneel next to the bed, reaching up to push her bleach-blond hair back off the side of her cheek. “No.” He threatened to hurt those who I love.

The road to being a King is paved with dead bodies. Eventually, our sins will catch up with us and demand a payment for all the carnage we leave behind. They can have my Kingdom, but they will never touch my Queen. I will set fire to the world and watch it all burn, me included, before I let her pay for my sins.

She closes her heavy eyes, and whispers, “I love you, Cross.”

I kiss her forehead once again. “Love you too, Alexa.”

Walking into my bathroom, I get undressed and start the shower, needing to wash off before I can lie down with her and finally crash.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

ALEXA

“WHAT THE HELL happened last night?” April asks, holding her face in her hand while we sit at a booth in Empire.

“We got fucked up.” Jasmine laughs, cramming pancakes into her mouth. “Derek had to drive me home.”

“My brother?” I wonder.

She nods. “Yeah, he came with me.”

“But I thought he left us.” I don’t remember seeing him after Cross and the Kings disappeared.

“Damn, you were fucked.” She laughs. “How do you feel after the fight?”

“Like shit.” But it’s not from the fight. After I woke up alone in Cross’s bed, I managed to crawl my way to a shower, where I then threw up in it. Thankfully I was already sitting down, and the drain washed it away.

“Grave was … well, is so mad,” April adds. “I guess my brother ditched his fight last night after he found out we were there. Now he owes the Mason brothers again.” She knocks her fist on the table.

“Is she alive?” I ask, looking at Emilee. She has her arm fanned out across the table, her head resting on it, and her dark hair is covering her face.

“I’m resting my eyes,” she says in a rough voice.

We laugh.

“I’m pretty sure she’s still hammered. I’m not sure she ever went to sleep last night.” Jasmine wiggles her eyebrows. “If you know what I mean.”