29. Rip #2
Fuck, I truly am stupid. How could I believe that was her? That would be one hell of a coincidence, and I don’t fully believe in those.
The pixie-cut woman and Xavier part ways, and then his eyes lock onto me. Before I can follow her and confirm my own foolishness, Xavier walks toward me. I look over his shoulder, but the woman gets lost in the sea of people.
Now Xavier is in front of me, telling me everyone is ready to film the entire reason we were invited to this snooze fest: the segment. Ignoring what he’s saying, I’m scanning the crowd, wishing that blonde woman in the yellow dress would show up again.
My throat is dry as a desert, and suddenly I’m ten years old, wondering when Mummy is going to come back. And yet, I can’t do anything about it. Not now, anyway.
Calm down, Rip. If she’s here now, she’ll be here later. A smooth exit from this mission comes first.
Everyone’s here when we gather into the empty room, and I’m immediately drawn to him. Kingsley.
I was considering the possibility that he wasn’t coming, but what is he doing back here? The segment is exclusively for the higher-ups, not their sons.
He avoids my eyes, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he presses into the wall, his jaw set firmly. Is he here to ensure we hold our end and resign after this?
It takes thirty different takes for us to get a somewhat decent video of the old men.
Jesus, I don’t know how people do this as their full-time job when people can’t follow simple instructions.
At least Kingsley was eventually nice to be around, so I could put up with him not being so smooth with the camera.
I’ve tried getting his attention with witty remarks, lame jokes, and even staring dead at him for minutes on end, and it goes unnoticed. He must have come into the room just to taunt me, because he’s not doing anything but observing. Congrats to him, it’s working.
Kingsley is ignoring me. I fucking loathe it when he ignores me.
“You’re right, Xavier. These boys know what they’re doing,” says the man with the gray, balding head of hair.
“You know I never lie,” Xavier says proudly. “Enjoy the rest of the night, boys. You deserve it.”
He’s out the door before I could even begin to say I was quitting. How could I when he just praised me?
The room empties, leaving only me, Thomas, and Kingsley. “We’ll resign before the end of the night.”
He keeps his eyes locked on the dusty floor, unblinking. “Your twenty-four hours are almost up. Do you really have the time to waste?”
“Can’t we enjoy the rest of the night before we break your dad’s heart?”
“My dad is the head of a deadly crime organization. You resigning will be the least of his worries.” He pushes himself off the wall, his body rigid and unyielding as he moves toward us. “But you already knew that. Just like you know everything.”
Tommy and I step back as he draws nearer, my hand automatically reaching for the hidden pistol at my waist. My mind knows Kingsley wouldn’t do anything, yet my body is on guard.
King’s gaze falls. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“We don’t know that,” Thomas states, his stance firm.
Kingsley’s shoulders loosen as he takes a step back, a peace offering. Thomas and I gradually eased our tension, our fingers inching away from our holsters and our defensive stances softening.
“Just be gone before morning.”
He turns his back on us and walks toward the door, about to vanish into the bustling crowd, impossible to find again.
I can’t let him leave. Not before I’ve explained myself.
“Kingsley,” I blurt.
When he glances back, our gazes lock, and a knot of dread tightens in my stomach. He’s got that same void of emotion, hollow look in his eyes as when we first met.
Kingsley was basically a living corpse months ago. I was the one who figured out how to awaken that dormant spark inside him. Now I’ve put him in his grave again.
This is my punishment for getting close to him in the first place. For falling so deeply.
“It was never a joke for me.” Fuck my defensive instincts. Drawing ever nearer, I close the distance to mere inches. “Things are complicated, but everything I said was real. All that I did, felt, was real. It wasn’t part of the job.”
His lips press into a thin line, like he’s biting his tongue. “We only had what we had because of your mission.”
I want to, but I can’t argue there. Without the job, I would never have pushed past Kingsley’s tall brick walls. Hell, without the job, we would never have met.
“Okay, so? I’d do it all over again if it means having you.”
But my words aren’t enough for him. “You’ve been lying to me for months. I’ve told you my deepest, darkest thoughts, and you tell the whole goddamn world. I can’t trust you, Rip.”
Kingsley shoves at my chest, and I react by grabbing his wrists and holding them tight. He tries to pull away, grunting and tugging, but my grip is too strong. Thomas shifts his weight next to me, ready to act if necessary, though the waver in his eyes says he doesn’t want to.
“You see who we are, Kingsley!” My voice rises, careful not to get too loud and draw attention. “You know firsthand the life we live. I didn’t do this because I enjoyed it. It bloody killed me to keep lying to you.”
Kingsley breaks free from my grasp, his eyes glaring daggers my way. “It didn’t kill you enough. Had I not caught you, you would have kept going until you fucked over my entire family.”
A flush of blood rushes to my cheeks. “What did you want me to do? Go against my own family for you?”
As the words escape my lips, King’s expression falls in immediate dismay. His gaze rakes over me, his wide eyes a swirling storm of pain and disgust that sends a shiver down my spine.
“You mean what I’m actively doing for you?
” he asks, tone low and cold. “I stopped Shawn from throwing you and Thomas into the cellar the moment he figured out who you really are. I haven’t told my family that I’ve been sleeping with the mole who is threatening the organization my ancestors built from the ground up.
I have been jeopardizing my reputation as the heir to the Crown for you. ”
My chest goes cold when his words finish. His jaw tightened, suppressing the inner rage and bringing back his usual composed facade.
When he puts it like that, I sound like a proper selfish prick. No, I don’t just sound like one; I am one.
But I don’t know what else to be.
I care about Kingsley more than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time, but to fully put him before myself is a foreign concept.
My hands fall at my sides, defeated. “I’m sorry, okay? Regardless of everything, believe me. Believe what I say about how I feel, because I’ve never lied about that before.”
His eyes are shiny, like he’s going to cry, but no tears fall. He’s quiet, like usual, when he doesn’t see a point in sharing his thoughts.
“Of everything I’ve lied about,” I add, taking his hand in mine, “I’m not lying about this.”
But he snatches his hand back, and my palm goes cold. “It doesn’t matter. What we feel doesn’t matter because I’m never going to see you again.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that,” I press.
“Think logically about all the time we’ve spent together.
Do you honestly believe I was making it up?
I can’t leave with you thinking I never cared, like I wouldn’t break the neck of anyone who even breathes in your direction the wrong way.
The thought of you being with someone else puts feelings inside of me it shouldn’t, Kingsley. Don’t you get that?”
“You murdered Sylvie!” he shouts.
My eyes dart around the room. The music in the other room should be overpowering our voices, thank fuck.
He jabs me in the chest. “You murdered my fiancée, Rip. You should be dead for that alone.”
I turn to my brother, who looks as though he’s seen a ghost. That wasn’t me, but revealing that information won’t make this any better. All it does is prove that I’ve lied again.
“Fine. Then I—”
“I killed her.”
Kingsley snaps his head to face Thomas. They hold each other’s gaze, both taken aback but not unprepared.
“Rip didn’t kill Sylvie, Kingsley,” he repeats. “I did it, not Rip. He wanted to take the blame for me.”
Kingsley doesn’t flinch. He gnaws on his lip, not saying a word, taking it all in.
I can’t react fast enough when I hear a gasp. In the doorway, Odette has her hand over her mouth, stunned. Shawn is beside her, a smug grin on his lips, the bastard. Why is he even here?
And then the door slams, and Odette’s got a gun pointed at Thomas. I try to grab mine, but Kingsley slaps it out of my hand and shoves me against the wall. He’s got me pinned, and if his sister’s gun wasn’t aimed at my head and Thomas struggling to take on Shawn, I’d put up a better struggle.
So much for leaving unnoticed.