The F King: A Bad Boy Romance (Still a Bad Boy Book 3) (12 page)

T
he first tendril
of reality to snake its way into my consciousness was the smell of Sarina’s hair. It enticed me towards the light like the scent of heaven itself.

Before I even opened my eyes, I took a moment to inhale deeply and take note of the way we were utterly entangled with each other. Her single bed didn’t allow for much spreading out but, even if it had, I would have wanted to wake up like this anyway.

Her head was resting on my shoulder with that arm wrapped around her tightly. My lips were touching her forehead, which explained why the aroma of the shampoo she’d used last night when we showered was coming through so clearly.

She was turned towards me, and had her leg and arm draped over my body. The pussy she’d shared with me alone was resting against my thigh, just below my hip, and her breasts pressed against the side of my torso. My hand was resting on that smooth thigh of hers, almost as impossible to resist stroking as it was for those ancient sailors to resist the call of the sirens.

Tentatively, I opened my eyes and pulled my head back to see that Sarina’s face was turned up to mine. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was in the slow rhythm of a peaceful sleep.

I blinked a few times to get the sleep out of my eyes and bring her beautiful features into focus. To tell the truth, “beautiful” was too ugly a word to describe her.

She was, in fact, so stunning that looking at her made me
ache
, not only with the need to fuck her, but the need to simply be as near to her as I could be. Giovanni Acardi had complained about how I was being paid a king’s ransom every month, but all those wads of cash were worthless by comparison to the treasure in my arms right now.

Slowly, I lifted my hand off her thigh, trying not to disturb that slumber with any sudden movements. She’d wake up soon, no doubt, but in the meantime I wanted to revel in this perfect little moment. It was the kind of calm bubble in an otherwise fucking crazy life that I could tell I’d want to remember forever.

Freeing my hand from the blanket, I gently brushed a strand of hair away from Sarina’s face and tucked it behind her ear. Silky smooth, I remembered how I’d thought her hair looked like liquid in the club on the first night and touching it now did nothing to dispel that notion.

I stroked her hair again, and Sarina’s breathing broke rhythm in the form of a deep breath that puffed out of her nose on to my chest, before resuming its previous pattern. What did I do to deserve a girl like her dropping into my life?

As I stroked her hair, there was no answer to that question that I could think of. I hadn’t expected it, hadn’t ever really thought about it before, but there was something between Sarina and I that was already more true and tangible than my ever-growing stranglehold on the Acardi empire.

That was a fucking terrifying thought, because it meant that at some stage I was going to have to either rip my heart out and let her go or show her the real world underneath the gloss of Highston. My world.

Then what? What if she wanted to stay with me despite everything? Could I bring this perfect princess through that world? Could I even go through it myself without her, knowing now that she was out there? Could I… turn my back on everything I’d been building?

I shook my head in surprise at what my internal monologue had just blurted out. I’d worked so hard, put up with so much
shit
from the Acardis that the idea almost felt like it came from somebody else’s voice inside my own mind.

Lucky for me, Sarina’s eyes were still closed. Those
eyes
of hers, they were the cherries on her seductive sundae, and the kind of sight that could make a man make some stupid decisions.

As if on cue, her eyes fluttered open and looked at me dreamily, before clearing and locking with mine.

“I love you,” I said.

Oh fuck.

Stupid fucking decisions like telling the truth. Sarina’s eyes widened and she looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

I was hit by the sudden certainty that I’d just ruined everything, but my stuttering backpedaling was drowned out and cut off by Sarina bursting into tears. She buried her face against my chest.

“I love you too,” she said through the sobs.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t know!” She looked up and smiled despite her tears. “I guess this is what I do!”

We laughed and she blushed and hid her face against me again. She was so pure and innocent, yet I’d seen that badass side of her too, she never ceased to surprise me.

Using a combination of my chest and the heel of her hand, she gradually wiped her eyes clear and got herself under control. She was so quiet that I almost thought she might have fallen asleep again when she spoke quietly.

“Nobody ever said that to me before. None of my foster parents. I thought I wasn’t worth it.”

“You are.”

No wonder she cried. How could a woman like
her
have slipped through the cracks like that? I’d only heard the words from one more person than Sarina had, but what a difference that person made. I’d heard them early, and often.

I loved Sarina. It was a wonderful truth. But there were a few truly terrible truths she’d have to find out about if that love had any hope of surviving. Maybe today I could let her in on one of those truths and balance things up a bit.

It was time. The more I thought about it, the more I desperately wanted to bring Sarina today. The thought of going alone made me
tired
. The thought of feeling tired made me feel
guilty
, but the idea of bringing Sarina made me feel like I’d be walking on two legs instead of one.

“Hey, could you come somewhere with me today? It’s kind of important.”

“Where?”

“The “where” is easy… the “why” is a bit more complicated. Um… could you bear with me and just let me show you?”

“Uh… well… yeah, I guess so. When do you wanna go?”

“Right now.”

Sarina raised an eyebrow, but then shrugged her shoulder. “OK, sure.”

She sat up with a quiet groan, before reaching her arms towards the ceiling in a big stretch. I rubbed her back until she stood up, allowing me to get to my feet as well.

Sarina was blissfully ignorant of how enjoyable it was watching her bounce her way into her tight jeans. It made me want to take them right off her again. But instead, I dressed myself from the bag of clothes I’d given to Sarina when we had planned for me to stay in her room after the Halloween party.

Shortly afterward, I led the way out of Sarina’s door and waited while she locked it behind us. A group of people were hanging out down the hallway, and a cheer went up as they noticed us.

I smiled and waved as we walked towards them. Sarina jogged a couple steps to catch up with me.

“What are they cheering about?” she asked.

“I told you the walls were thin here.”

Sarina’s brow furrowed, then her eyes went side and she looked down at the ground, shielding her face with her hand as the blood rushed to her cheeks. She must have had
some
idea of the kind of noise she made while she was getting fucked good and hard, but possibly not the full picture.

If I had needed any feedback about just how much she loved it when I was powering my cock into her, the way she came like an air raid siren would have done it. It was music to my ears, and I wondered if Badass would have a new nickname by the time she returned to her dorm this afternoon.

I
f a wider range
of emotions had ever been packed into ten minutes in my entire life, I had blanked it out. The instant I opened my eyes, Ryan told me he loved me and the waterworks started.

Twenty five years.
Twenty five fucking years
I heard those words in movies, I heard them said to other people, read them in books, and I waited. Why not me?

Now, the first time I heard those words spoken to
me
, he thought he was talking to somebody named Sarina Bell. I wanted to ask him to say “I love you, Sarina Beckett,” but that would raise some questions, to put it mildly.

Part of me hoped to hear some kind of doubt in his voice, or to hear the cocky edge of a player telling a girl whatever he thought would get him more pussy. I didn’t hear that. When he said it, I believed him.

Most of all, the rational part of me wished that I didn’t love him so much too. Once Ryan said the word, put a label on this almost tangible connection between us, there was no way to construct even a flimsy argument against it.

I was in love for the first time, and I had to live with the knowledge that we were almost certainly doomed. What possible way was there for it to work out?

Even if I renounced everything I had made out of myself in my so-called real life and ran off with Ryan, the authorities would find me, and then he’d find out what I was. He’d hate me for that betrayal, he’d think it was all the lie that it was
supposed
to be.

But it was real and, in its own little bubble, it was perfect. The best thing for me to do was to push forward with the investigation, get as much information as I could on people upstream of Ryan’s supply chain, and divert as much of the heat away from him as possible when it came time to crack down on the F operation.

Our relationship already muddied the waters a lot, in terms of any charges that might be levied against Ryan in the future, and I’d divert as much as I could too. It was the only chance we had for either of us to end up with the equivalent of a slapped wrist rather than going to prison, and the only chance for him to, maybe, forgive me.

Last night, after all that sex, he’d seemed impressed when I handed over a bundle of cash that paid Ryan back for the F he’d given me. That was why, when Ryan said he had something important to show me, my ears pricked up with the thought that maybe he was going to take me to meet his source of F.

In undercover cop terms, the investigation had been moving at light speed, but this would be the first breakthrough that would point the finger at somebody other than Ryan. My heart leapt at the opportunity, though it was brought crashing down pretty quickly by the brief but intense wave of shame in the hallway.

I wasn’t
that
loud, was I? Just how thin
were
the walls in Cumberland, anyway?

I didn’t have to feign the embarrassment that kept me quiet as Ryan drove the car, but the reasons for Ryan’s silence were a mystery to me. From the glances I stole at him as we went, he was definitely nervous about something.

Was his supplier dangerous? Another one of those Cannibal thugs? Just somebody who’d hate to see a new face like mine turn up during a transaction?

The questions only deepened when we pulled into the hospital parking lot. Was his supplier a doctor? A nurse? Anybody else who had access to the stockpiles of drugs in a hospital? Was Ryan also a middleman, bringing ingredients for the manufacture of F?

All those questions melted away when we entered the elevator and Ryan pressed a button for the tenth floor labeled “Private Wards.” He looked pale, like all his strength was being sapped away from him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, leaning in and slipping my arms around him.

“I hate this place.”

“Why?”

“Some days are better than others, but she should be relaxing at home, enjoying her retirement. Some days are bad.”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. We walked out slowly as he rested his arm over my shoulders, almost leaning on me.

“Wait… your mom?” I asked. “Is your mom here?”

Ryan nodded after a few seconds. Holy shit. He was introducing me to his mom. My heart jolted like a monster had just jumped out in a horror movie. Would she grill me about my intentions with her boy? What were you supposed to do when you met your boyfriend’s mother?

I blinked a few times and composed myself. However startling it was for me, it looked like this was a lot tougher for him. For most people, I could have understood that this was a daunting milestone in the relationship, but Ryan had always been so immensely self-assured that it was scary to see him looking so embattled.

“Is there something I need to know?” I asked.

Ryan took a deep breath, then let it out as he rethought his wording before starting again. “Well, like I said, you’ll see when you get in there. I want you to meet her. I want her to meet you. But…”

“But what?”

“But I would never bring just anybody here. I don’t know how much longer I could stand coming here alone. I need help.”

“With what?”

“It feels like everybody around here has given up. Even her. They’re just counting down the days and I’m the only one fighting anymore. I love you, but I still probably couldn’t handle bringing you here if I didn’t know you were a fighter too. I need you here to fight
with
me.”

I reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. He squeezed back, and I could almost sense him trying to draw energy from me while he steered me down the hallways as if he knew them all too well.

Outside a room marked “Crewe,” he paused, took a few more deep breaths, and contorted his face into a cheerful mask before leading me around the corner into his mother’s room.

The clinical lines of the hospital had been disguised by what looked like the evidence of a long stay. The standard bedding was replaced by colorful covers, a huge flat-screen television on a stand made the one suspended from a bracket on the ceiling look like a toy, and flowers adorned a set of drawers next to a standalone wardrobe.

Sitting in the bed, propped up with pillows and wearing a bandana, was a woman who looked supremely tired. Though she was pale and thin with dark circles under her eyes, I could still see more than a spark of Ryan in them and she carried herself with a quiet dignity.

Those eyes found the energy to light up and I saw a flash of the beautiful woman under the illness when she saw Ryan and I walk in.

“Excuse me, Miss California, I’m looking for my mom, have you seen her?” Ryan asked.

“Shut up, sweetie. So this is her?”