Page 9 of Tormented Kings
I’ve spent my life resenting Collin and his perfect little life. I despised him for having his sweet mom, who loved and cared for him, on top of the fact that he didn’t have to live at our father’s side.
Carol had made it clear, more than once, that I was always welcome over, that their home was my home.
Yet, I avoided this place like the plague. Why? Because I was jealous that this wasn’t my home. I was the child conceived through adultery, the one who put a black spot on the Killian name.
I have no right to be here. Still don’t. Yet, I get out of the car and head for the front door, Grayson and Declan following behind me.
I’m surprised it’s not the help who answers the door but Carol herself. To say she’s shocked to see me is an understatement. I thought she would still be at the charity event, but I guess that would be over by now.
“Preston!” Her face lights up with a kind smile. “I’m a little shocked to see you here. Come in.”
“Thank you, Head Mistress Killian,” I mumble, stepping into the house. I immediately feel out of place.
“Grayson, Declan, come in, come in,” she says, and the other two follow, voicing their thanks as Carol shuts the door. “And none of that Head Mistress stuff. It’s not school hours, and I prefer Ms. Killian anyway.”
I give a firm nod before my eyes drift to take in the place. There’s nothing special about it. It looks like most of the mansions around here, only this place has a different feeling to it. It’s not cold and lifeless. That much I can tell just by standing in the foyer.
“Ahhhh... is Collin here?” I ask, bringing my attention back to her.
“He is. He’s in the basement office.” Carol continues to talk, waving us after her. “I must warn you, he’s not in the best mood. He won’t tell me what’s going on, but maybe you three could be of help.”
“We‘ll try.” Grayson gives her a forced smile.
Carol points to a door, and we thank her before heading down.
We’re greeted with shouting as soon as we hit the bottom of the stairs and follow the loud yelling to an open doorway.
“I don’t fucking care!” Collin roars. “Find out where the photos came from, now!”
Rounding the corner to what looks like to be an office, Collin stands behind a desk, leaning over it with his hands on the table. His chest is heaving, head bent down.
“No need to worry about that. I know where the photos came from,” I state, crossing my arms as I lean against the door frame.
Collin’s head snaps up, eyes wild.Shit, he’s fucking pissed.
“Where’s Sadie?” he demands, hitting the button to end the call. Of course, she’s the first thing on his mind.
“Safe at home,” Declan answers.
“Drunk off her rocker, too,” Grayson mutters.
“What?” Collin growls. “How the fuck did she get alcohol and drink enough to get drunk since I last saw you? It’s only been maybe forty minutes.”
“She’s a lot more determined than we thought.” Grayson shrugs, moving over to the chair before sitting down and leaning back, lifting his feet to rest on the desk, earning a glare from Collin.
“What the fuck are you doing here? And what do you mean you know where the photos came from?”
“Sadie told us,” I inform him and that has him straightening up.
“Who?” His voice is low, demanding, and dangerous.
“Who's the one person in our lives that gets off on making our lives a living hell?” I cock a brow. “Come on, big brother. Is it really that hard to guess?”
His lip peels back in a snarl. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“Preston already took that privilege away from me. But honestly, I don’t care who kills him as long as he is fucking dead,” Grayson spits.
“He tried to pay her to leave, Collin,” Declan emphasizes, stepping deeper into the room. “That bag, it’s filled with money. He told her to get out of town.”