Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
A fter I finished my speech, Kingston drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Let’s get in bed.”
Once we’d settled under the covers, we lay facing each other in the darkened room. Pale moonlight streaked across our joined hands, falling over our partially dressed bodies. Tonight didn’t feel like a night for pushing past physical barriers but connecting on a deeper level.
And like everything with Kingston, I suspected that what waited at the end of that would be well worth the time it took for us to get there. As he started speaking, finally giving me the truth I’d been hoping for, I was sure of it.
His truth changed everything.
“When I was a boy, the first time my father allowed me to have a friend over, he brought home the son of one of his business partners. He said he would be my greatest ally one day. My partner in crime.” He glanced up from the spot on the bed, where he’d been staring between us, and smiled sadly as he met my gaze. “Literally.”
I wanted to reply with the quote I normally gave Gia when she misused that word. But Kingston had said language mattered. Words had meaning.
My smile vanished as his meaning sank in.
“My father said the boy would follow me to the ends of the earth, and he’d always be by my side.” Kingston dropped his eyes again. “My right-hand man. Even though, to the outside world, he must appear to be no more or less important to me than anyone else.”
“Because the Knights don’t have ranks?”
“That was what I thought he meant, too. But he also said it to teach me a valuable lesson.”
When I scoffed, Kingston squeezed my hand. “Drake D’Arthur has taught me many valuable lessons. Mostly in who I never want to be. As a leader, as a father, and as a man. And that one was no different.”
“What happened?”
“As soon as the boy became everything my father said he’d become, and as soon as I grew to trust and depend on him, my father gave him a choice between something cherished that my family had taken away—something he knew the boy coveted—and my friendship. Naturally, the boy chose door A.”
“Oh, god.” My heart ached for that little boy. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged, as if it didn’t carry the same weight anymore, but something like that had to leave a mark.
I wasn’t prepared to find out how true that was.
“My father said the boy could only have the item if he took the knife out of my father’s bag and dragged a line down my back.
Nothing major, but…he wanted them to leave a mark.
He told them when they did, they would get what he’d promised them.
And when it was done, my father told me the boy hadn’t been strong enough to be the right hand of a D’Arthur, and that we’d simply try again. ”
He cleared his throat, and I tightened my grip on his hand.
“Each time, the boy chose the item. They’d mark my skin, and then they’d leave. With their eyes on what they’d gotten, and barely a glance back at what they’d done to get it.”
My hand flew to cover my mouth, quieting my gasp.
“I never blamed them. I understood the point of the lesson, and they were small children being manipulated as much as I was. But even so, I…” His features tightened, face pained as the memory rose in his throat, and he swallowed deeply to get past it. “I waited each time, hoping one would say no.”
“Kingston…”
“And then, one day, one boy finally did. But, because of who my family is, my father had prepared for that. He offered the boy an even more valuable item. Something the boy had wanted much longer. And that time, the boy didn’t refuse.
Only one boy refused more than once...Eventually, though, they all had a price. ”
“How many…?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but couldn’t stop the question.
“Eleven sons.”
“Kingston—” Tears built in my eyes as I shook my head in disbelief.
“The last boy that came in had light brown eyes that reminded me of honey. The kind my mum would stir into her tea. And he observed me through my father’s explanation.
His head tilted toward the sound of my father’s voice, walking us through how he would become my friend.
The whole time, he never looked away from me. ”
I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of a young Landon Scott being as watchful as he was now.
“When my father’s explanation was done, the boy told him he understood, rose from the table, and waited for me.
Ready to leave the room but needing me to order it.
I didn’t know why he’d done it, but I gave the command he’d prompted and told him to follow me.
We went outside and ran through the yard, up by the lake until we were far enough away.
And when I asked him why he’d done it—why he’d stood to leave—he simply asked, Why wouldn’t I?
He’d seen that I wanted to get away from my father, but that I hesitated to do it, and he wanted to leave with me. So, he stood up for me.”
Kingston smiled slightly, a brief and sad expression softening his features before he lifted his eyes back to mine.
“If anyone else had seen it, what Landon had noticed that conveyed my discomfort, I would’ve regretted it.
I had to take great care to always conceal it.
My hatred of the man who raised me. None of the other sons picked up on it, and neither did my father.
But Landon had. He’d seen what I fought so hard to hide.
And he promised that he’d follow me wherever I needed to go.
He’d follow me until I felt safe. Until it didn’t hurt anymore. ”
My chest tightened, understanding because Landon had done the same for me.
“Slowly—very slowly—because at that point, my father’s exercise in team building had all but destroyed my willingness to let anyone in, Landon became exactly what my father said.
My greatest ally. My partner in crime. And everywhere I went, he followed me.
Watching me. Always watching...And always by my side. ”
I wanted to wrap those two boys in my arms and run away with them. Far away from here.
“What happened? When your father offered him the items?”
“He refused,” Kingston said simply. “And then he refused again. And again. No matter what they offered him, he never betrayed me. He never picked up the knife and stabbed me in the back. And I knew he never would. Even before he proved it, I knew. I felt it.”
He didn’t say it, but I couldn’t help thinking it. Landon had chosen Kingston over everything his father offered, his loyalty unflinching…
Until he’d chosen me.
My heart fell, even as it soared. The surety of being his choice bittersweet with what it meant for another piece of my heart.
“I—”
“No, Quinn. To this day, Landon has never betrayed me. Not by falling for you. Not by—” He shook his head. “The problems that have come from what I can’t share with him? The blame for those rests on my shoulders.”
I clutched his hand, and his thumb stroked over my skin, grounding us both.
“Landon will struggle with guilt over what’s happened with Elaine, but it’s my fault, and my fault alone, that things have gotten to where they are now.
Because he has always done what I’ve needed.
And…if I’d asked him not to let things progress with you, I don’t believe he would’ve betrayed me, then, either.
But a conversation he and I needed to have—one I couldn’t face—would’ve happened sooner, and we might’ve avoided all this.
I just…I didn’t handle it well. The thought of losing him. ”
Guilt and pain warred over his features, and I touched his cheek, wishing I could ease it for him.
“He’s your best friend, Kingston, and you went through so much to find him. The scars on your back...They prove that. Of course, you didn’t want to lose him. Or react perfectly or do everything right.”
“But I made everything worse. So much harder, in the end.”
I locked eyes with him, hoping he’d hear and believe me.
“We will figure all that out. Together. I understand it more now, why you’re all so hard on yourselves, with what I know about your father, but…
you’re human. We’ve all made mistakes, and we’ll keep making them, but we can find our way through those, too. ”
When he forced a smile, I tried to reassure him further.
“And you won’t lose him. Not ever. Not because of me.”
Kingston nodded, but his eyes shone with sadness, and the pain of losing something he thought would always be there. I wasn’t sure if he believed me, or if anything I might say could convince him.
“He shouldn’t carry the weight of my mistakes on his shoulders. Neither should you. I don’t—It’s like you said. It’s too much. And I haven’t even shared the worst of it yet.”
I frowned, thinking through what I’d said that led him to that conclusion and realizing it had been at the doctor’s office.
“Kingston, you are not too much. You know that, right? What you’ve had to go through?
What your father did to you? That was too much, but that’s on him.
That’s who he is. Not you.” I shifted closer to him on my side, the tops of our thighs brushing.
“When you say Landon shouldn’t feel guilty, I know you mean that.
But Landon sees how our choice affects you, and he sees the battle you’re fighting.
The weight on your shoulders. Just like I do. ”
Kingston’s eyes jumped between mine, searching for the truth as I kept going.
“He’s your best friend. And you’re his. He loves you, and he’s loyal to you. When someone cares for you like that, they never want to add to the weight you carry. That guilt…it’s because of how much you mean to him, I’m sure of it. And he might not let it go until he sees you at peace.”
His brow lined with tension at that thought. I didn’t know why it bothered him more, but I suspected that he feared he might not find that peace, and what that meant for Landon.
I couldn’t take that fear away while the threat still hung over our head. So, instead of trying to fix it further, I wrapped my arms around him. I hugged him as tightly as I could. Wishing I could bring him peace but unsure if I’d be able to.
Kingston’s arms came around my back, and he held me just as tightly. “I’m sorry.”
“I am, too.”
He shook his head buried in the crook of my neck, and I nodded back stubbornly. A small laugh left him, and he pulled back to smile at me.
“Alright, stubborn girl. You win.”
I smiled wider, resting my forehead against his.
Drained by the admission, Kingston didn’t offer more of their history, and I didn’t press him to keep going. He’d set out to explain the rivalry between the two of them and Max, but that didn’t matter right now.
It had to be connected to that memory, but I didn’t need the details right then. Not to understand the source of all the pain between them. It ran deeper than I’d imagined, having been carved into them as children.
As we lay there together, with our eyes locked, Kingston’s slowly fell closed. I stared at him long after he fell asleep, that invisible weight remaining on his shoulders.
It never truly left him.
And I might never be able to bring him peace, or heal the wounds his upbringing had caused.
But I was with him.
He slept, knowing, for just a moment, he wasn’t alone.
It felt like enough.