The Rebel King (All the King's Men Duet #2) - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,98

to search for her. She’s in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher. Unnecessary, because her parents have staff who would do that, but Millie needs to feel useful. She never intended to practice law for long. Her purpose was intricately laced with my brother’s. With him gone, she seems adrift. She’s young, beautiful, wealthy with no need to ever work again. I’ll make it my business to protect her and the kids from predators.

It’s the least I can do for Owen.

“You okay, Mill?” I ask from the kitchen door.

Her back is to me. The slim line of her shoulders tenses and her hands go still in the sink.

“You know,” she whispers, “you and O don’t look anything alike.”

She glances over her shoulder, showing me one red, tear-stained cheek. “But you sound so much like him.”

I’m transfixed, my feet glued to the ground, and I can’t even go over to comfort her. No one’s ever told me that.

“Just now when you asked me that, and my back was turned,” she says, her voice growing more waterlogged, “for a second, it was like I had him again.”

She turns to face me fully, leaning against the sink, her face collapsing in tears. I force my feet forward and stride across the kitchen, pulling her into a tight hug. Her whole body shakes with the force of her grief.

“I’m sorry we haven’t talked much,” she mumbles into my shirt, now soaked with her tears. “I want you to know I’m proud of you for running, and I know Owen would be, too. You have my full support. It’s just . . . on the phone, it’s too much. You sound like him and I can’t see your face and it tricks my heart into thinking . . .”

She glances up, shadows painted under blue eyes dulled by pain. “I keep waiting for it to hurt less, but it never does. Every morning I wake up with this knife in my heart and no way to pull it out. I just bleed.”

She doesn’t say much else, and I hold her tight, and promise to never let go. I can tell from the solace she seems to take from me being here that Millie doesn’t blame me for Owen’s death.

But I still blame myself. I probably always will.

44

Maxim

By the time I make it back to Philly, I’m completely wrung out. Physically, yes, but I’m used to an unreasonable pace. I’ve done it all my adult life. I’ve engineered my diet and workouts to get optimal use from of this body, even though I don’t sleep nearly enough.

No, I’m wrung out emotionally. I don’t have a supplement or recovery shake for that. I’d take it if I did. No matter how stiffly I hold myself, I still feel Millie shaking, her sobs vibrating through every part of me.

In the hotel where the team is staying, a security guard trails me up to the top floor. I can’t remember what time we leave in the morning for Pittsburgh, but it’s early. Using the bus instead of flying everywhere takes longer, but Kimba and Lennix schedule all kinds of social media crap like live broadcasts on Facebook and Instagram while we’re on the road to make good use of our time.

Lennix.

I need her.

Tonight, I need her so badly I’m tempted to go to her room and risk her anger and being discovered.

“Good night,” I tell the guard, closing the door and leaving him to take the seat in the hall outside my suite.

The room is dark, only a small arc of light provided by one lamp. I stop in my tracks. Lennix is curled up asleep on the couch.

“Nix?” I sound hopeful, like she might not be real. Might disappear.

“Hey.” She stretches, walking over to me, reaching up to wrap her arms around my neck. “Are you okay? I knew it would be so hard seeing everyone today.”

“Yeah.” I slide my hand into her hair. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, but tonight . . .”

I trail kisses over her jaw and down her neck, back up to her ear. “I need it to be Tuesday, baby. Please.”

She pulls back, searching my eyes and then nods. I pull the tank top over her head, leaving her in that orange bra with the infuriating strap that kept sliding down her arm, tempting me while I was trying to concentrate on the pop-up questions today. I undo the front clasp of the bra, taking her breast into my mouth, groaning at the