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I’d purchased this bathing suit months ago when it first started to get warm, but I’d gained weight recently—mostly in my butt and thighs—which Rowdy loved and hated since I still tried to squeeze into my old clothes that were now a size too small.
The bikini bottoms were digging so far up my ass that it might as well have been a thong. The tiny triangle tops barely covered more than my nipples, but it still wasn’t anywhere as racy as the suits I knew those bitches hoping to catch his eye would be wearing.
“Make sure you keep that shit on all day,” he ordered when I tied my cover-up around my waist.
I rolled my eyes as I followed him out of our bedroom, downstairs, and into his car, but I didn’t argue. It would only end with him destroying yet another piece of clothing of mine, and I really liked this suit.
Today was the last day of the Pride of Kings festival. It was an annual weekend-long birthday bash for the Kings that both raised money to buy school supplies and clothes for low-income minorities around the way and stroked the Kings already inflated egos.
The festival was how I’d found out that Rowdy, Joren, Roc, and Golden were all Leos, which explained the matching tattoos.
Since their birthdays were so close together, they’d decided that it was easier to have a collective celebration than a huge and expensive party every week for a month. The festival was always held during one of the Kings’ birthday weekends, and this year was Roc’s.
Rowdy’s thirty-sixth birthday—which he’d spent alone with me like he wanted—had come and gone, leaving the gap between our ages even wider.
My twentieth birthday was less than three months away, but I knew that even then, it wouldn’t silence the whispers and constant judgment.
Of all the available women, the lion of Idlewild had chosen a teenager. It didn’t stop the men from worshipping the ground he walked on or the women from wanting to take my place, but it gave them stones to throw nonetheless.
I was beginning to understand why Rowdy had kept everyone except his parents, the other Kings—and now me—at arm’s distance.
Sometimes, not even that was enough, and he was forced to extend that radius to however far his gun aim allowed.
It was a thirty-minute drive to the Idle Lakes. The last party of the weekend was in full swing by the time we arrived at the huge lake house. It was more of a staging area, really.
There were people lined up near the shore, waiting their turn to be taken out on one of the motorboats to the huge platform in the middle of the lake. From here, I could just make out a DJ booth, bar, and water slides at both ends that the drunken partygoers were riding down and into the lake.
Hilltop, the heavily guarded territory of the infamous yet rarely seen Nine Hills gang, was perfectly visible from the deck overlooking the water.
The mountains had looked so beautiful during our balloon ride in the sky. I had asked Rowdy days later if he could take me up there one day, and he told me under no circumstances should I ever cross the boundaries of the Battery unless I wanted the entire city at war. Apparently, outsiders who wandered where they didn’t belong had a habit of never being seen again.
“I see you two finally made it.” The deep voice those words belonged to were drunken and familiar.
I turned my head and spotted Joren stumbling up the wooden stairs toward us and wrinkled my nose before I could remember to play nice. Unfortunately, he’d been looking right at me, so he hadn’t missed my disgust and glared right back.
It had been several months since I started working at Pride of Kings, and Joren and I still hadn’t warmed up to each other. In fact, things had become even more tense since I started dating his boy. Rowdy tried to keep out of it and not take sides, but I could tell he was becoming annoyed with us both since neither Joren nor I had no cause to dislike each other.
Golden was now speaking full sentences to me on a regular basis, but Joren, who thought the sun rose and set on his bald head, couldn’t be bothered.
I didn’t know what it was, but I couldn’t stand his ass, and the feeling was mutual, so we stayed out of each other’s way.
“It ain’t even noon yet,” Rowdy snapped from beside me. “How the hell you drunk already, and the party just started two hours ago?”
Good question.
Joren waved him off, which made him lose his balance, sending him tipping forward. He would have fallen on me if not for Rowdy’s quick reflexes. He lifted me out of the way, leaving Joren to collapse on the blue and white striped couch, where he ended up lying face down and snoring seconds later.
“Dumb ass,” Rowdy spat at his friend’s unconscious form.
Usually, I would concur, but I was starting to suspect that there was more to Joren’s drinking. Whatever it was, judging by Rowdy’s reaction, I’d also guessed that Joren hadn’t shared his woes with his friends.
I still didn’t like his ass, but I could empathize, which was more kindness than he’d ever shown me. Joren hadn’t been cruel necessarily, just indifferent. I couldn’t understand why it grated on me.
Nevertheless, I knew what it was like to walk through hell and feel like there was no one or nothing to turn to except your own self-destruction.
The very reason I’d been reckless enough to follow an anonymous note into this lion’s den. I’d left everything behind to find the Kings, and I still didn’t know why. I stopped caring months ago, and I wasn’t the only one.
I haven’t heard from Unrequited since their warning.
