King Maker (King Maker 3)

“But will you be safe?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I’ll never know if I can take care of myself if I don’t start now. And I can’t have you hurt because of me.” I closed my eyes to hold back the tears. I had no idea if I was doing the right thing. “Go. Live and love. If we are meant to be, we’ll be. But don’t hold yourself back from finding someone who can make you happier than I can.”

The sounds of waves and sidewalk traffic were the only noises for long moments.

“I think I need a beer.”

I laughed and cried. “Me too.”

He’d taken it better than I thought as we found a pub that served beer, burgers, and chips, which were actually fries.

We drank and drank to the point the next morning I was throwing up something awful.

Turner was there to hold my hair like the good man he was.

“Tell me it will end,” I complained.

He laughed. “You’re a lightweight.”

“Since when were you not?”

Then my stomach revolted again. It killed my desire to eat over the next few days, which was sad, but we tried to make each other smile.

One thing that kept us busy was trying to find Turner appropriate clothing for the heat when we’d been living in winter in America. He found a few things, leaving me the rest of his clothes to make space in his small bag.

“You’re really going with only that?” I asked.

He laughed. “We’ve lived on less.” We had. “The places we go, we may end up walking. I’ll have to travel light. The group will have all the supplies we’ll need. Plus, we’ll pass through larger towns from time to time.”

When the day came, he wouldn’t let me ride with him to the airport.

“I’ll never leave if you’re there,” he’d said.

So I sat on the balcony looking at the ocean while wearing his shirt, one I might not ever wash so I could hold on to his scent.

“Did I do the right thing?” I said for the millionth time to Lizzy, whose face filled my computer screen.

“Yes. Because if you loved him that much, you wouldn’t have let him leave.”

“I let Kalen go.”

“He’s an ass. Have I said that enough?”

She wanted me to laugh, but I couldn’t. Weariness weighed on me. All I did was sleep, cry, and I didn’t eat very much. I’d caught a stomach bug or maybe the flu the way I’d slept much of the past few days away.

“It just doesn’t make sense.” I’d said that a hundred times as well. “I can’t believe he lied to me all those other times.”

“And what if he was lying this time? He obviously needed an excuse not to be in a relationship. He’s a little bitch.”

I rubbed my puffy nose, which, thanks to modern technology, I could plainly see in the thumbnail of our video chat.

“I still love him.”

That only made me cry harder. How pathetic was I?

“Come home,” Lizzy begged.

“To what? I don’t have a job. And you said they are still talking about me, and my name is still in the news.”

I still hadn’t received official word about my job, but it was just a matter of time.

“You don’t need a job. Come work for me. And they don’t mention you as much. Give it another week and they’ll have forgotten you.”

I shook my head. “I can’t work for you. I meant what I said to Turner. I need to stand on my own.”

“It’s on Kalen’s dime. I’m stuck in this beautiful apartment in Soho all alone. We could find a way to stick it to him.”

I laughed. “That’s even more reason to stay away. I don’t want him to know where I am.”

“And you think he doesn’t?”

It had been a few days. “He hasn’t come looking. Besides, how could he have known I’d run into an Irishman with a plane and a friend with an Airbnb? Seriously, there’s no way.”

“Whatever you tell yourself.”

I was done talking about that man.

“What about Hans?”

“Hans… beautiful, pretty Hans… Hans with the penis the size of lipstick.” I didn’t mean to snort, but I hadn’t expected her to say that. “Did I ever tell you he has the oral skills of a god? I mean, the guy can eat pussy like no other.”

Only she could make me laugh when I still felt like crying. The change of subject also helped.

“I guess when you’re working with such a small package, you have to have other skills,” she babbled on.

“You’re terrible.” I covered my mouth so I wouldn’t splutter from the hilarity of it all. “Is it that bad?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.” She sighed. “We tried alternatives. I was never an anal girl, but honestly, I thought it could work for us considering.”

“TMI, TMI,” I said between guffaws.

“I’m telling you, Bails. Anal isn’t that bad when the guy isn’t packing a Smith & Wesson .500. I mean, he doesn’t even have a .22.”