The King - S.R. Jones Page 0,89

He’s about the scariest man, other than Konstantin, I’ve ever seen. If Popov shot him, that makes Popov terrifying.

“In the leg. Tried to kneecap me to be precise,” Andrius says. “Or, his men did. Fucker is so useless, though, he can’t even do that right, or his men can’t. Took the wrong woman to hold hostage too.”

Then he cracks up laughing as if kidnapped women and bad kneecappings are funny. I look at my sandwich and feel sick. I can’t eat it now.

“It doesn’t fucking matter, Andrius. A war was coming anyway. We know this. All Cassie did was fire the starting pistol. So, she gets to live, and more than that, she gets my protection. Understood?”

Andrius frowns. “She’s at no risk from me. I don’t hurt women. Plus, I like her. She puts beetroot in her sandwiches.”

With those crazy words, he takes one of the beers and walks out of the room.

“He scares me,” I whisper to Konstantin.

“He can hear you, and he’s only staying a couple of days,” Andrius shouts from somewhere down the hall. “Got a new baby and a gorgeous wife to get back to.”

Oh my God.

“Great hearing,” Konstantin says. “Like a wolf to go with his eyes, no?”

I nod, unable to think of anything to say.

“He won’t hurt you, and he’s soft as shit these days.”

He is?

“Since he fell in love with Violet, and she changed him, he has mellowed. He’d do anything for her now, and that includes getting out of this game. He’s only here as a favor to me, and to you actually, so you don’t have to worry, okay?”

“He’s almost as scary as you,” I say quietly.

Konstantin laughs, then he sobers as he looks at me. “Cassie, what am I going to do with you?”

“I don’t know,” I tell him. “What are you going to do with me?”

“I really don’t know.” Then he’s gone, taking the other two beers with him.

If me and Konstantin were together, acting on our attraction, would it last? Would I want it to last? Maybe if I weren’t a prisoner and could go visit my grandparents, staying here wouldn’t be so bad. I don’t think I’d feel safe out there. Once he’s dealt with Popov, will Konstantin send me home? But what then? Liza and Denis are still out there. Vasily, who hates me, might decide to simply get rid of me if I’m no longer under his boss’ protection.

I’ve learned how scary the world is. It’s full of predators. Wolves like Andrius, and big, stupid bears like Denis. Ruthless sharks like Konstantin. But if I’m with the biggest predator of all, that makes me safe.

I want to be safe. Never have felt it, not really. I’ve always been waiting for the ground to be pulled from under me. Maybe because my mum did just that to me so many times as I was growing up? My formative years were decidedly unsafe.

Would Konstantin let me stay? Would he be my protector? If I slept with him, would I be someone he kept around for longer than his previous conquests? Would that be enough for my heart?

I sigh and look at the sandwich, and then I grab some cling film from a dispenser against the back wall, wrap it up, and put it back in the fridge. My appetite is gone.

**

Another night of sleepless, lust-wracked turmoil stretches out before me. It’s already two in the morning, and I’ve not had a wink of sleep.

I’ve masturbated, but it’s barely taken the edge off. That’s the thing with me; I might not have had many lovers, but I’ve got a high sex drive. I love sex—watching it, reading about it, masturbating. It’s just … the real thing has always been something of a let-down. I’m not a goody-two-shoes. The reason I’ve not fucked around is because I’ve always thought it would be kind of disappointing. If sex with Tim, a man I thought I loved, wasn’t all that great, then I had little hope it would be much better with anyone else. Michael’s friend, whose name I forget, was proof of that.

The best sex I had was, in fact, an encounter with a man who I met one night at university. He was in his late twenties, and an artist. An actual artist, who made a living from painting the most incredible portraits. He had a sensitivity to him, and his body was beautiful, in an entirely different way to Konstantin’s. He was tall and slim, with lean, long