King of Depravity: Chapter 10

This painting is the most fun I’ve had in a really long time. I mean, besides being in bed with Killian.

Throughout the day, he brings me food, so I barely need to stop.

I look back at my work, smiling.

The galaxy, done in shades of blue and purple sparkles in the late afternoon sun, I did mostly background work today, layer upon layer of paint, but I’ve begun to add the stars that make up the bright center.

I finally have to put the painting down to get ready for work. Killian insists on ordering me an Uber to take me home.

I know that Killian and I aren’t dating. This time yesterday, I was considering involving the police.

But him taking care of me all day, feeding me, watching me paint, I think that might be what relationships are actually like. But then again, maybe not. How would I know?

My mom was no help. Her idea of a good man was one who gave her an Amex card that had no limit.

Killian hasn’t had a shirt on all day so when he pulls me against his chest to kiss me goodbye, my hands land on his bare pecs. “I’ll see you later,” he murmurs against my lips, and then he places a kiss on my neck at the base of my throat.

“You coming to the bar tonight?” I ask, nipping at my lip. I don’t know how to tell him that I’ve started enjoying his presence there.

“I’m not sure. I might have to meet with Triston,” his hands have skated down to my ass. “Want to come over after you’re out of work and see my bed?”

“Why would I need to see your bed?”

“It’s like my cock, it’s really big,” he rumbles into my skin.

I shake my head, trying to decide if this is a good or bad idea. One day of hanging out, a couple of orgasms and I’m catching feelings.

“You could get up in the morning and paint.” He nips at my collarbone, kissing a path to my shoulder.

“Now I see why you offered your place for my painting. It’s another bargain.”

“You caught me,” he rumbles, squeezing my ass cheeks. “I’ll meet you at the piano bar at two to walk you home.”

“I thought you had to meet Triston?”

“We’ll be done by then no matter what. I don’t like you walking alone, anyway.”

I shake my head because I’ve been walking on my own for years. But his phone chimes that my Uber is here, so I head down the elevator and out to the car. It’s a quick ride back to my place, leaving me tons of time to get ready for work.

Daffodil is there, and she gives me a long look when I come out dressed in my uniform. “So…” she wags her eyebrows, “what’s the deal with the new man?”

Daffodil is a gorgeous redhead, and my favorite of my roommates because she never causes trouble, and she always pays her share of the rent on time. I shrug. “I don’t know. I think we’re just kind of hanging out.”

“He looked like he made a great pillow,” she starts, biting back a smile. “And considering the noises you made in the middle of the night, he does some other things even better than that.”

I blush to my roots, realizing everyone probably heard me last night. Small place…thin walls. “Right.”

“And he was really handy with the Sarah situation. Knows how to handle himself.”

I could tell her he’s rich too, from the best kind of family.

“He’s all that. He’s also just…” I sigh.

“A little scary when he threatens to turn a guy into a sex toy for the homeless?”

If she only knew just how scary. “Yeah. He lacks a filter, and he’s definitely got a hard streak.”

He is rawer than any person I’ve ever met. I thought it was a problem at first, but I’m starting to wonder if it actually makes me more comfortable. I never have to wonder who the real Killian is. He is always just himself.

Waving goodbye to Daff, I leave for work. I cut last night short, so I really need to make up the tips tonight.

But I’ve no more than entered when I see Alexander sitting at the Russians’ usual table with a man I remember seeing with them a few times, but I don’t know his name.

He gives me this leer that immediately sets my teeth on edge as I tie on my apron.

I’m relieved to discover that Callie has already taken their table and I don’t need to serve them.

Grabbing my tray, the hostess calls out to me. “Table eight.”

With a nod, my night begins.

It’s a fine crowd tonight, nobody grabs my ass, and tips are decent. I’d hoped for better, but this will at least give me food money when I pay my tuition on Monday.

My shift flies by, and a few hours into the night, I get my first chance to take a breath. I lean against the dark corner of the bar, Mike busy filling orders for the waitresses, while serving a group at the bar.

Leaning my head back against the wall for a second, my mind goes to my painting and to Killian.

I started with the colors of the sky, painting him in blues and purples but I’m going to add his body around the stars. It’s not just a painting of the man with his tattoo. For me, somehow, Killian feels like he could be as big as the universe.

A smile curves my lips.

“What are you smiling about, Printsessa?” My eyes fly open to find Alexander standing just a few feet away, the other guy next to him.

I push off the wall but I’m too late and they close in. I try to catch Mike’s eye, but his back is to me as he serves drinks.

Alexander pushes me back against the wall. “You’re not running off this time.” He clamps his hand around my upper arm, coming between me and the bar so my view is blocked. “And there is no Smith to save you.”

“This is the one that Triston’s interested in?” The other guy asks.

“Chloe, meet Preston Wingate. He was engaged to Arabella Kincaid before Gris Smith got in the way. Preston is not a fan of the Smiths.”

I know I’m in trouble as Alexander starts pushing me toward the bathroom hallway. The two of them mostly block me from the crowd and I’m trying to figure out how to break away. “Mike,” I call out, but he doesn’t turn. “Mi⁠—.”

Preston’s hand comes to my mouth, cutting off my call. They’re pulling me into the hall, and I know this is bad. I have no idea what they’ll do if they get me alone.

With a quick jerk Alexander’s not expecting, or maybe he’s too drunk to correct for, I pull my arm from his grasp.

Then I spin, making a run for the bar.

That’s when Preston grabs my ponytail and yanks. He sends me falling back even as his hand comes down hard against my cheek. I cry out as I fall to the ground, my back smacking into the wooden floor. “Consider that a warning and a favor,” Preston spits. “Stay away from the Smiths or you will pay.”

That’s when Mike appears. “What the fuck?”

“She fell man,” Alexander says with a shrug. “It’s those heels, I think.” Then both of them saunter back toward their table like they’ve done nothing wrong.

It feels like my cheek bone exploded, as Mike crouches down next me. “Did that guy just hit you?” he asks, looking from me to their retreating backs.

“It’s all right,” I say, slowly lowering my hand from my face.

“It’s not all right. We should call the cops⁠—”

“Don’t,” I shake my head. “I can’t afford to cause trouble.”

He’s looking at me like I’m crazy. “You should see your face.”

I curl tighter into myself. “How bad?”

“Bad. You gotta put some ice on that.”

He pulls me up and helps me behind the bar, dropping the scooper into the ice bin, he dumps a pile of ice into a towel and hands it to me.

I set it on my face, and wince at the pain. I turn toward the mirror behind the bar and gape at the sight that greets me. My cheek is already red and swollen.

My boss hustles behind the bar. “What are you doing—holy shit. What happened?”

“I fell,” I say, because this is not something I want to deal with publicly or privately, for that matter. I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but I can’t keep working here if Alexander is going to come after me every night.

He shakes his head. “I’m going to have to send you home, you can’t be out on the floor like that.”

I could cry, not from the pain, but because all the good my one night of good tips did for my budget is being eaten back up.

And for once, I’m not even sure I want to walk home. What if Alexander and Preston follow?

I grab my phone from my jacket pocket and hit the Uber app. I can’t afford the car, but I just don’t want to be out alone tonight. Gathering up my stuff, I turn to my manager. “Can I wait in your office? I don’t want to be seen.”

“Good idea,” he nods. “Any maybe you should take a few nights off until the swelling goes down? Looking like that will not be good for business.”

Inwardly I groan. I can’t take more nights off. But I don’t think I really have a choice. Holding back tears, I head to the back.

Luckily, my car arrives quickly, and I go out the back door, through the alley. It’s how the employees mostly enter and exit the bar. But even if we didn’t, I don’t want to pass through the front again.

I pick up my phone considering calling Killian. But then I drop it back in my pocket. I know he’s busy tonight. Besides, he’s not my boyfriend and this is not his problem.

I keep the ice on my face and I move through the alley and climb into the backseat of the car. What started off as an amazing day, has turned into a nightmare of a night.

Slumping down into the seat, I close my eyes.

I’ve found myself in the middle of some disagreement between the Smiths and the Russians, and I’ve no idea how to get myself out.