Page 26 of Reign of the Queen
“Some truth now, dicks. Would you still fuck Mia even after today if you could?” Finn looks at each one of us. “Because given half the chance, I’m still nailing her to the wall with my dick.”
“Not even a hesitation on my part; my dick dreams of Mia daily.” Mateo swipes the bottle back from me and takes another large gulp.
“Theo?” He’s so quiet; I’m unsure how to handle his behavior.The calm before the storm, maybe?
He rubs his hand across his forehead and lets out a defeated sigh. “I would fuck Mia into the ground with my bare hands firmly clutched around her throat till she begged me for mercy, which I would gladly deny her. I could get hard just thinking of strangling the bitch.”
We hear a door open and slam loudly in the hallway outside the den, then heavy boots echoing across the wood floor leading to the den. “Carter, you miserable fuck, where are you boy?” I hear the shout through the plasterwork.
The den door slams open, shoving Theo entirely out of the way and hitting so hard into the sidewall that it leaves an impression of the doorknob on the wallboard.
“Dad?” I jump up and take steps toward my dad, who looks like an enraged bull coming into the room, obviously looking for me, his prey. Finn gets up and moves closer to me, I see Mateo moving as well, and I shake my head for them to stay where they are. They will make the situation worse when he’s like this.
“Boy, what have you done now? I am getting calls from frightened and panicked parents at your school. Theo’s dad’s looking for him and furious. Mateo’s dad is on a plane back to the states, and Finn, you fucker, look at your phone. Your stepdad is trying to reach you.” He gives each of them a glare, which could frighten a Chupacabra into submission. Coming closer to me and grabbing me by the shirt, he hauls me into his physical space so I get the pleasure of breathing his rank, warm breath in my face.
“Not sure what you’re talking about dad….” I plant my feet to prevent him from moving me any closer. We are evenly matched in height now that I’m almost nineteen; he’s still got about sixty to seventy pounds on me, though. Mack Pemberton doesn’t look like your average titan of industry. He looks like a jacked-up, six-foot-one linebacker in a sharp suit with a perpetual snarky, angry face and rage issues to match the look.
“Let me refresh your memory, you cocky son of a bitch.” He cuffs me across the head with that massive paw of his. If I were anyone else, I’d be seeing stars right about now with how hard the hit is. I see Theo moving from my peripheral vision, and I motion him to stay put with my hand.
“Stratford. Does that name mean anything to you boy?” He finally lets go of my shirt. I don’t take a step back, holding my ground. A giant “fuck you” on my face.
“Hmm.” I pretend to think it over, ever the antagonist. “There’s a new girl that goes to our school with that name, I think…pretty little cunt.” I motion with my hands to show her hourglass figure.
“You think ha...you better listen, all of you little fucking shits. I heard what happened at that school this morning. I heard about it even before my plane landed on the tarmac less than an hour ago. You tried to school and manage that little wisp of a girl, and she gave you an ass whooping. Now you’re here, tails tucked between your mongrel legs, hiding out in my house.” He glares at each of us again.
“The message has been sent out nice and loud, a warning to all of us here in the community to rein in our sons and daughters, do not mess with that Stratford girl. That family is destructive and not afraid to take anyone on; that girl with her nastiness will take anyone down. And I am not about to have my family name and fortune ruined like the Dias Family this morning. Do you hear me, boy? I will bury you six feet under if you go near that girl!” The vein in his neck is currently doing jumping jacks, and his face looks molten with rage.
“Pray your momma doesn’t hear about this from her friends and returns from wherever this week’s spa visit is because I will put you through a fuckin’ wall if I have to deal with her on top of everything else.” He gives me a final look of disgust and storms out of the room, shoving Theo out of the way on his way out of the door.
The minute he’s gone, my body deflates from having to be in fight or flight mode. I look at each of the kings, and other than Theo, the other two won’t look at me. They all know what goes on in my house, that my dad’s a bully, combative, and physically abusive. My pageant queen mom is missing in action, doing a tour of every spa and masseuse in the country she can get her hands on so she doesn’t have to be in Casbury and near my father. I used to be embarrassed; shit, I used to be afraid he would hit one of the guys in one of his many fits of rage.
“Man, your dad is such a cunt.” Mateo is the first to break the silence.
He’s the only one out of the kings my dad never says shit to; he won’t even acknowledge him most of the time. I’m pretty sure that his mom and my dad had a thing behind each of their respective partner’s backs a few years ago. Mateo’s dad took a bat to my dad’s arms and legs when he found out about it. I remember him being in the casts and coming up with some bullshit story about being mugged while I was in middle school. My mom, of course, couldn’t have cared less. He might have gone ahead with the truth for all the notice she paid him. Their marriage is so whack, he cheats with anything walking around with a pussy, and she looks the other way and keeps away from his fists. It’s the shit version of happily ever after, I guess.
“My stepdad is blowing up my phone and demanding I head home; my mom and he are waiting on me.” Finn starts heading toward the den door.
“Hold up, what are we doing about Mia?” I ask, rubbing the back of my neck hard, cold sweat sticking my shirt to my back.
“I have to go; the Baron is demanding an audience.” Theo turns and heads out into the hall. “Mat, Finn, I’ll drop you on my way home. Move your asses.” He doesn’t even stop to see if they are following him out. When the Baron speaks, it’s as if God has spoken. Baron Vincent Saint-Laurent is the only thing scarier than my asshole of a dad. He even scares the hell out of my dad, and that’s saying something, and he keeps Theo on a tight leash.
I watch them all leave, my anxiety ratcheting up, and that feeling like my chest will explode is starting to overwhelm me. For as long as I can remember, my dad, this house, my missing-in-action mom, all of it has made me anxious as fuck.
I reach into the back pocket of my school dress pants and pull out the laced blunt I have hidden there. Heading to the balcony doors leading off the den, I spark it even before I’ve opened the doors and hit the fresh North Carolina late morning air, watching birds soar high in the beautiful, blue cloudless sky. I wish I was like them and could fly away from this hell hole, leaving all this shit and my family behind.
Nothing makes me feel better lately, but the weed helps to take the edge off, the alcohol numbs the pain, and the coke helps me to forget that I live in this messed up privileged world with expectations and demands that would cripple most world dictatorships.
FUCK, fuck...fuck! I repeatedly slam my hands on the Ranges steering wheel as I drive away from Finn’s house and down my long, gated driveway. The Baron really likes his privacy, everything gated, everything kept under wraps, neatly tied up (figuratively and physically speaking). I’ve been summoned to his malignant majesty’s presence, a demand I don’t take lightly. A chill goes down my spine, and my hands start to tremble. I clutch the wheel tighter and press hard on the gas.
Lately, the only time the Baron, my psycho of a father, wants to see me is to demand my unequivocal obedience. Prove that he is the devil incarnate, string me up in his room of horrors to watch someone be punished on my behalf or chew me out for not being the perfect spawn.
I don’t have the stomach or mental capacity to deal with his shit on top of what happened with Mia this morning, but I can’t precisely refuse an audience either. Who knows what the psycho would do or to whom if I did.
Mia…yes, Mia. My thoughts always seem to turn to her lately. That was a nice trick she pulled this morning. I got to give the girl credit where credit is due. She’s got balls made of steel to go after us on our own turf. Not only go after us but publicly give us that smack down and declare herself queen of our kingdom. The prohibition on fucking us kings was a nice touch too, I chuckle.
I feel my pants getting tighter at the memory of her blatant defiance, how she held herself tall and strong, unbending, not an ounce of fear evident on her face. Using the palm of my hand to shift myself in my pants as the memory makes my cock harder and harder. She was the hottest, most sexually satisfying image of power I have ever seen. Had there not been an audience and my crown on the line, I may have willingly bowed at her feet just so I could get a taste of her, however brief. I can imagine that taste too, once would never be enough.
What is it about this girl that is tying me up in knots, messing with my brain till I no longer know which way is up? Is it just because she’s drop-dead gorgeous, with that ethereal face, perfect lithe and toned form, juicy ass and tits, and sandy blonde mane? Naw, I shake my head in denial. I have dated and slept with models and even a Miss Teen Universe once. It’s not just her looks that would have kept mine and the other king’s interest this long. That certainly wouldn’t have made her a specter in my mind constantly.
