Chapter 21 Kingston
Kingston
The smell of burning flesh still branded my nostrils as I began digging the six-foot-deep grave.
I had managed to put out the fire last night and ensure it didn’t spread, but it took hours for it to completely die.
I passed out on my bed inside the barn for a few hours before returning with a bandana tied around my face to help with the smell.
Rage pushed me each and every time I dug into the soil, ensuring the ash was cleared away from the body. But no matter how much debris I cleared, it was still smoking and charred.
Fuck. I didn’t like Adrian, but Presley cared for him, and she’d already lost him. She didn’t need salt poured into her open wound like this. Scotty was going to pay for doing this to her, which was the very next thing on my list to attend to.
I pulled out my phone, tossing the shovel aside.
The body would need to cool completely before I could properly bury it.
I’d already planned to get a casket here and wrap his body up, so he could be laid to rest respectfully in a proper grave.
Unfortunately, instead of Italy, he’d be laid here, where his body would remain connected to Presley’s future.
Navigating over to my text thread with Henry, I shot him a message.
Me: I want the manor security system completely gutted.
All the locks, all the cameras. Every keypad inside and out.
The gates. All of it. Replace everything, and make sure you swap out the armory locks as well.
I want it all changed, and I want men stationed around the perimeter, all of Scotty’s men need to be disposed of.
I want them all dead, every single one of them.
Dots were already bouncing around before I finished my text.
Henry: Consider it done.
If Scotty wanted to test the nature of the beast we’d resurrected, then fine. He thought we were heartless before; he had no fucking clue what he just unleashed.
I punched out one last message, going with a hunch I had. I couldn’t prove it, but that image I saw on Presley’s screen and her ire toward her uncle told me there was a connection to Markos that we were missing. I wasn’t entirely sure, but I decided I’d go with it anyway.
Me: I want the bodies of all his men sent to Italy. Dump them in front of Adrian’s home with a message inked into each forehead.
Henry: Inked?
I glanced up at the smoke still rising from the body.
Me: Yes, inked. I want you to tattoo the bleeding black heart of El Peligro into each and every forehead. I want him to know we’re not just coming for him; I want him to know we’re coming to end him.
It was later that afternoon when I first saw Presley again.
A car made its way up the mile and a half drive that was rarely used.
We typically just crossed the field between the manor and the farmhouse, but there was an actual driveway that was accessible.
Her dad’s Range Rover rolled to a stop in front of the house, and Rylie exited the passenger side while Presley came out through the back passenger door.
Her parents tipped their heads back, taking in the view of the house. A tiny kernel of pride and anxiety swarmed my chest as I watched them inspect it. Rylie began gushing over the finalized details, and Kyle even seemed pleased as he tested the strength of the handrail leading to the porch.
Presley, however, seemed completely unfazed as she rounded the car and lifted the back hatch. She immediately grabbed a box and started jogging up the steps.
She was moving in.
Why did that realization send butterflies and knots throughout my stomach? This is exactly what I wanted, and yet the fear that only Gio would have this with her still poked around in the back of my mind.
“Kingston!” Kyle called for me, seeing me near the barn.
I pulled my gloves off and walked over. I smelled like smoke and had ash all over me, but I had enough respect for him because of Presley, not to just ignore him. Once I was close enough, he tentatively placed a hand on my shoulder.
“I wanted to thank you for finishing this house for her. I think she needs it now more than ever.”
Presley returned to grab another box, shooting me a glare. I guess we were back to hating each other.
“I’m glad it’s something she can feel at home in,” I replied, trailing after Presley’s dark hair that had lifted with the breeze.
She’d jogged up the steps, and I knew my brother was going to kick his own ass for missing the opportunity to help her unload all her shit in the house.
He’d been going crazy over how to get her to return to how things were.
I didn’t know how to tell him that was likely never going to happen… especially after last night.
Kyle gave me one more pat on the shoulder before saying, “It means a lot to me that she has you boys. I know things are complicated between you, but deep in my bones, I know you’ll always protect her, and for that, I am eternally grateful to you.”
My eyes found the ground, still feeling ashamed of the threat I’d made to Presley a year ago.
Hopefully, he really believed that I would have never hurt her and would have shot myself before I would have ever allowed a single hair on her head to be harmed.
Somewhere inside, I really needed him to believe that.
Thankfully, Kyle moved on, joining in to unload the car for Presley.
I decided to give them some space, so I walked back to the barn, grabbed some clothes, and made my way back to the manor to shower.
I’d never had to put out a fire that had a burning body inside of it before.
I’d never smelled burning flesh in a way that it seemed to coat my tongue and skin.
I wanted to scrub for days until the smell left me, but as soon as his body cooled, I’d go right back to smelling like death because he’d have to be buried.
It was just one more thing I’d make Scotty pay for.
Hours later, after I had checked in with Henry and Gio regarding Scotty’s men, I headed toward the barn. It wasn’t super late, but I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep.
I didn’t even have the energy to slip out of my clothes before I pulled the blanket over my body. My face hit the pillow right as someone walked inside the barn.
“Why are you sleeping out here?” Presley asked, sounding irritated.
Opening one eye, I watched as she crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for me. She wore a pair of leggings with a cropped T-shirt, revealing her toned stomach. Her hair was down and the pouty look on her face made me instantly uncomfortable in the position I was lying in.
My mouth was half mashed into the pillow, but I managed, “Because this is where I live.”
Her lips pressed together while she took a few steps closer. “I thought you had decided to sleep in the house.”
“No. Just that one night.”
Hurt flashed across her features, making her lip tremble the smallest bit. I decided to sit up and clarify. “I thought you were pissed at me again, anyway.”
“I am, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want you in the house.”
I stretched and lay back down on the bed. “Tough shit. I’m not one of your sex toys you can pull out when you want to get off and then toss back in the drawer when you’re done.”
Anger gleamed in her bright blue eyes. Her fingers dug into her arms so tight she was starting to leave white indents. But still, she leaned forward and smiled while she replied. “Rather a toy to be used, than a heart to be broken. Suit yourself, I’ll gladly fuck Gio. He’s bigger anyway.”
She turned around and slammed the door on her way out.
She knew exactly what to say to get under my fucking skin.
I should have just stayed in bed and let her go.
I should have ignored her barb, because I knew she didn’t give a fuck that Gio was bigger; we were both massive, so him being bigger than me wasn’t her suffering in any fucking way.
Still, her words scraped like talons down my mind and over my heart in invisible gashes.
I tossed the covers off and stormed out of the barn, stomping across the gravel drive way and up the steps to the farmhouse.
The door was still unlocked as the automatic bolt hadn’t slid into place yet.
I angrily turned the knob, pushed it open, then slammed it behind me.
It made Presley jump while on her way up the stairs.
Her eyes were huge when she registered my expression.
“Kingston…I was just—”
I pulled my shirt up over my head and pushed my jeans down. My boots flew off as I kicked them and then I ran.
“Wait…I’m,” she yelped while darting toward her bedroom, “I’m sorry!”
I ran up the stairs after her and placed my palm up, stopping her door from slamming. “You will be.”
“I was just trying to get under your skin,” she admitted while backing up toward the bed.
“News flash, mi reina, you’ve been under my skin since we were kids. Since you first brought me a jar of warmed dirt. Since you helped me grow things, and you weren’t afraid that I seemed to ruin them. Since your freckles made me smile.” I continued walking toward her.
Her eyes watered as I drew closer, but then she glanced away like these words hurt her.
“But tonight, you didn’t try to get under my skin. You tried to get out from under it, and I won’t allow that.” I tugged her hair back with one hand and gripped her by the throat with the other, before slamming my mouth to hers.
Our teeth and tongues clashed together in an angry wave of passion.
I continued to pull her hair, while her nails angrily traced my skin and clung to my neck.
We moved backward when I finally released her and spun her around.
Pushing her face down, I was about to explain what I was going to do to her, but my brother walked into the room.
“What’s going on?”
He was only wearing a pair of boxers, his hair was wet, and his expression was completely blank.