Page 31 of The King's Boy

"It's just him, his mom, and his kid sister. His old man died back before his sister was born. Mom works as a cleaning lady, but they are barely scraping by, so I let him be, but told our guys he wasn't allowed to run anything that would put him behind bars."

"So, why did he call you then?"

"He was doing a lunch run for some of our guys in the warehouse down there when he spotted some guys he didn't recognize hanging around the warehouse, so he hid and watched for a few." He let out a small chuckle. "Kid has good instincts. You might want to think about recruiting him when he gets older."

That still didn't answer my question.

"So, there are some guys hanging around that he didn't recognize. So what?" Little Jamaica was overpopulated like the rest of New York City. There were bound to be people hanging around.

"Libano called when they broke into the warehouse and he heard gunshots."

Well, damn.

Chapter Ten

~ Spencer ~

I knew within the blink of an eye when I woke up that I was somewhere I had never been before. Not because I really remembered anything—my memory was a bit fuzzy at the moment—but because I felt as if I was lying on a soft billowy cloud. This bed was so soft I sank into it.

The black silk sheets were nice, too. They caressed my skin with every move I made. Must have a high thread count.

I lifted up on my elbows and glanced around. I recognized nothing. Not the tall floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the massive room. Not the double doors that led to what looked like a really nice balcony. Not the white and black marble fireplace on the other. None of it.

Yeah, I'd never been here before.

I didn't even know where here was.

When I flipped back the blankets, I felt an immediate brush of cooler air blow across my skin. As soon as I looked down and realized I was naked, the memories came flooding back.

King.

I should have been pissed at his high handedness, but all I could do was smile. It had been a really great night, one I wouldn't mind repeating. Kind of hard to do when there was no King to repeat it with.

Just where was that man?

I could have cared less that I was naked as a jaybird as I got up and roamed around the large bedroom suite, checking behind every door as I looked for King.

Pretty sure I had died and gone to mobster heaven when I found the bathroom. Seriously, it should have been called a spa, not a bathroom. It looked nothing like any bathroom I had ever seen and I had stayed in some pretty high-end places in my travels.

King could just bury me in the gigantic, jetted spa tub.

The walk-in closet was nothing to sneeze at either. I would question why a man of King's stature would need a closet bigger than my first apartment, but that seemed pretty hypocritical. I'd need one twice this size to fit all my clothes.

A wicked grin spread my lips wide as I started looking through all the hanging clothes before moving on to the massive amount of dresser drawers. I picked out a few items here and there and set them on the counter situated in the middle of the room.

My outfit the night before had been to die for, but I wasn't looking forward to putting it back on until it got washed. I liked the frills that went with my clothes, not the stench.

Once I had my haul, I carefully looked it over. It would need a few tweaks here and there to look just right, but I had faith in my designer skills. I just needed a pair of scissors, a needle, and some thread.

The scissors were easy enough to find. There were some in the bathroom drawer. The needle and thread were another story. I wasn't sure where I would find any of them.

I grabbed some silk ties, a belt, and the stuff I had pilfered and then I got to work. By the time twenty minutes went by, I had a reasonable outfit.

Well, reasonable by my standards anyway.

The black lounge pants would look a little strange with my black boots, but they were long enough—even if I had to roll them up—to hide most of that. They were also flowy and loose at the bottom, which would also help.

All of King's shirts were white button-up dress shirts. Seriously, the man needed some color in his life. White was okay, but all white was boring as shit. Had he never heard of the phrase "Don't wear white after labor day"?