King of Hearts Page 63


Without thinking, I nodded. Then I simply stared at him, absorbing everything he’d just said. A silence fell between us. Memories bombarded me, all the things that King had been through in his life.

Jay’s voice was a soft whisper, his eyes flittering over me, studying me like I was a book and he was straining to see the words. “Jesus, Alexis, what the fuck happened to him?”

My face went sad. “So much and too fast. I have a feeling he still doesn’t know that he didn’t do what he thinks he did.”

“What does he think he did?”

I wasn’t sure what it was about this guy, but he had a way of pulling all the information right out of me. My voice was a whisper when I replied, “He thinks he killed someone.”

Jay absorbed this quickly, his posture stoic. “But he didn’t?”

“No, he didn’t. He should have. If anyone deserved to kill that bastard, it was King, but he didn’t.”

“Christ.”

“Jay.”

“Yes?”

“Take me to him. Please.”

“Okay, darlin’, okay. Come on,” he said, and threw his arm protectively around my shoulders. He led me farther from the circus tent and towards a cluster of mobile homes camped out nearby. In the centre of them was a large open-air gazebo with tables, chairs, and a few gas cookers. There were a couple of people milling about, but not many. My eyes scanned the space frantically, desperate for a glimpse of King. Jay stopped walking, and so did I.

That’s when I saw him.

He was so changed, I wasn’t even sure how I recognised him, but I did. My heart would know him anywhere, in any guise. He sat on a bench, his body slumped over the table, his fingers clasped around a bottle of liquor. His hair was long and dirty, his face heavily shrouded by a beard. He wore filthy, unkempt clothing, a grey jacket with a woollen jumper beneath, worn jeans and muddy boots.

I couldn’t believe this was the same man who once sat in his office overlooking the Thames, a ruler of his own universe, the best at whatever he set his mind to. Now he was reduced to a homeless drunkard, completely unrecognisable. I really didn’t understand how the world worked sometimes.

At thirty-three, he’d been at the top.

Now thirty-nine, almost forty, he was at the bottom.

And yet, his very presence still made my heart pound, still made my lungs fill up with too much air. He was alive. He was breathing. And I didn’t care what form he took, so long as I could have him back. My legs gave out, but Jay steadied me. I couldn’t take my eyes off King, and he didn’t even know I was there.

A small commotion sounded from nearby, and I turned to see a tall blonde woman come running up to us. She was followed closely by Jack and another woman, a short brunette. She stopped in front of us, hands going to her hips as she tried to catch her breath. Her beautiful grey eyes danced as she took me in.

“You’re here,” she breathed. “I can’t believe you came.”

I stared at her, taken aback, but I knew instantly that this had to be Lille. She confirmed my assumption when she threw her hand out and introduced herself. “I’m Lille, the one who wrote you the letter.”

Slowly, I reached forward and shook her hand, feeling shy and out of place. “I’m Alexis.”

She nodded, smiling, and replied loudly, “Yes, I know.” She was clearly excited.

“Quiet the fuck down,” a broody, scratchy voice demanded from nearby, and every hair on my body stood on end. His voice, so changed, yet so the same. I couldn’t help closing my eyes, blinking away another tear. I’d turned my back to him when I shook hands with Lille, and now I heard hard boots crunching on the ground. I turned back around as he neared. His blue eyes, once so bright and sparkling, were now dull and reddened.

I sucked in a breath.

He stopped in his tracks.

Time slowed down, the world became as small as a grain of sand, as we stared at one another. It was a moment I’d never forget. The bottle he’d been clutching like a life raft fell from his grip. The harsh sound of glass shattering shot through me, making this all so real. King didn’t even notice he’d dropped the bottle. He reached up, rubbing at his eyes to the point that it looked painful.

“Stop it, stop it, stop showing me. I don’t want to see her anymore. No more.”

He was hurting himself, and I couldn’t watch. I stepped forward, my voice lighter than air. “Oliver,” I whispered. I stood mere inches away, the smell of him hitting me. He stank of booze and dirt. My heart cracked in two. It was a physical pain to see him like this.

“No!” he screamed, hands flying out and pushing at me. I stumbled backwards but managed to find my feet before I fell. Grumpy Jack strode forward, his size formidable, and gripped King by the shoulders. “Calm down, friend, calm down.” His words seemed to soothe something in King, whose body slumped forward. Jack’s eyes wandered to his girlfriend, who stood frozen in place.

“I told you, I fucking told you, Lille.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think….”

“That’s just it, you didn’t think at all,” Jack fumed, eyes now flashing accusingly at his brother. “Neither one of you did.” There was something in the way he spoke that made me feel like this was personal to him, like he was truly angered that Jay and Lille had brought me here to King, who clearly wasn’t in a fit state to see me. Again, my tears came. I felt like my heart, my very soul, was being torn in two. I didn’t want him to be like this. I just wanted the old King back.

Prev Next