I nodded, relieved that he hadn’t asked any more about Hill. “She was. We were tight.”

  He was smiling when he closed the door behind me.

  I studied the interior of the car while I waited for him. Everything—from the leather seats to the console—was a brick color. I’d never seen anything like this. It was far superior to Hill’s Mercedes. This was another level of luxury. Even the leather seats were softer, smoother, like butter.

  Sebastian opened his door and slid inside. “Well, this will mean little to you, but this is a custom 2024 Porsche Panamera 4. I designed it myself. Ice-gray metallic exterior, barrique interior, all the bells and whistles.” He stopped and patted the top of the steering wheel. “Haven’t named her, but now, I feel as if I should.”

  I laughed, and he winked at me before starting the engine and backing up.

  “Want to take it for a spin before we go to the house? See just how fast it can go?”

  I was tempted, and for a moment, I almost agreed. But what if a cop pulled us over? That would be bad.

  I shook my head. “No. That’s okay. I think just going to the ranch is all the fun I should have tonight.”

  He shrugged. “Very well. But you’re missing an experience.”

  “I’m sure I am, and I will regret it for eternity,” I replied.

  When we passed Maeme’s, I caught myself looking for King’s truck, and when it wasn’t there, I felt a stab of disappointment I had no business feeling. I wondered if he was going to keep his distance from me now. My chest felt heavy at the thought, and I wished it didn’t. I wished I didn’t care at all.

  “How are you related to Maeme?” I asked him.

  He turned into the massive arch that read Shephard Ranch, then glanced over at me. “That’s an interesting question. You see, we aren’t technically related. The Shephards and Salazars have been in business together for a very long time. Before even our fathers were born and their fathers.”

  That was odd. “In business with the horses?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, among other things. It’s like a corporation, if you will. Our families and the Jones and Kingstons are all inside the same one. There are a couple others as well, but they don’t have homes in Madison. They’re in other parts of the South. But here, it’s our four families that run the Georgia side.”

  I sat up straighter in my seat. “What things do you own?” I asked. “I mean…if it’s not my business…”

  I felt my face warm. I was being nosy, but I wanted to understand their dynamic. Why they all came to Maeme’s on Sundays and acted like one big family. It was strange yet nice at the same time.

  “It’s okay. I don’t mind,” he assured me. “We own a couple of restaurant chains, hotels, casinos, A few malls, corporate buildings. Quite a bit of corporate real estate.”

  That explained the stables then. They were billionaires. The kind Hill did business with. He handled corporate real estate in Atlanta. I wondered if they knew him. They had seen the news, so if they knew of him, then wouldn’t they have mentioned it? Maeme would have said something, surely. I decided against bringing it up.

  “I’ve been overseeing things in Vegas for a few years. One of our casinos and handling the purchase of another one. But I’m thinking it’s time to come home. That life was fun for a while, but when I go back, I start missing this place almost immediately.”

  I could understand that. Even if they weren’t all blood, they might as well be. Having a family that big must be incredible. I wouldn’t want to leave it either. You’d never feel lonely or lost. Someone would always be there for you when you needed it. If this had been my family, then I’d have had someone to call the first time that Hill had hit me. They would have saved me, and I wouldn’t be in this mess.

  The lights outside caught my attention, and I turned to look at what we were approaching. It was phenomenal and lit up like a castle. The stone exterior matched the stables, but it was all just more. Much more. There was even a turret on each end of the mansion, making it appear even more castle-like.

  “Whoa,” I breathed as he pulled the car around to the side of the house and down into what appeared to be an underground parking garage. There were at least ten other vehicles parked under here. “And I didn’t think it could get any more impressive,” I muttered as he pulled into a parking spot.

  He cut the engine and opened his car door. “We like cars,” was all he said.

  I stepped out of the Porsche and looked at the other expensive vehicles of all kinds. Sports, SUVs, convertibles, all luxury. Shaking my head in amazement, I turned back to see Sebastian standing there, watching me with his hands tucked in the front pockets of his jeans.

  “Ready?” he asked. “Or we could take one of these for a spin. Your call.”

  I laughed and started in his direction. “No, that’s okay. I think staying here is the best idea.”

  “All right,” he replied. “This way.”

  We walked over to what I thought was a solid stone wall until I heard a click, and a door slid open to reveal the inside of an elevator. I wanted to laugh at how insane this was getting, but I didn’t. I stepped in behind Sebastian, and he pressed a code instead of one of the buttons, and the doors closed.

  “How many floors is it?” I asked him.

  “Four,” he replied. “And a basement.”

  The doors opened back up, and a wide hallway with a marble floor stretched before us. He waved for me to go out, and I did, doing my best not to gawk, but finding it almost impossible.

  “This way to the kitchen,” he said and started to go left.

  We walked through two different hallways, through a large sitting room with a roaring fire in a fireplace bigger than I had ever seen, then down another hallway before we reached what no one I had ever met would call a kitchen. It was much too elaborate to be labeled as such.

  “Minna made a Mexican spread.” He went to the buffet set out with silver covers over serving dishes that were sitting over warmers. “Fajitas,” he began, looking under one, then continued, “enchiladas, refried beans, tamales, mole,” until he took off the last cover. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “That is for two people?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “More or less. Some of the guys might stop by later and eat. Never know for sure. What’s not eaten Minna will pack up and take home with her. She hates to cook for her family since she cooks here all day, so she takes the leftovers.”

  That made a little more sense. At least this food wasn’t wasted.

  “She’ll have the cold stuff in the fridge, trayed up for us,” he said and walked over to open a commercial-sized refrigerator that had been camouflaged to blend in with the cabinetry. He pulled out a long silver tray and set it on the island bar. “This should be it. Grab a plate and fill up,” he said with a smile.

  What kind of world had I walked into?

  • twenty-one •

  “Okay, so maybe I let her have too much.”

  Rumor

  I licked the salt from my lips that had been on the rim of my margarita glass, then giggled. Sebastian was critiquing Ocean’s Eleven and what they should have done differently while I drank my third margarita because he kept filling my glass without asking if I wanted more. It seemed he got funnier the more I drank.

  After we had eaten our dinner in the kitchen, he had taken the pitcher of margarita left by Minna and led me to a theater in their house. It had five rows of long brown leather sofas that were made up of reclining seats. We sat in the second row, and he pulled down a divider between our seats that had holders that fit our glasses. There was a table that came under the seats and popped up in front of us, where he put the pitcher, along with tamales. He had said he might get hungry again.

  I was not getting hungry again. I was stuffed. But I figured he might.

  The last time I had been to a movie theater was when Hill and I were dating. He’d taken me to many places. It had been part of his grand scheme to get me to marry him. Just so he could beat me and control me. I shoved that thought away. I was having fun. I hadn’t had fun in a very long time. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had fun. I was sure the margarita was helping me with this, but I did not care.

  “There you are,” a deep voice said, and I startled, sloshing my margarita, but not spilling it—thank goodness. “You didn’t answer my text.”

  I looked back to see Thatcher walking toward us and blinked, realizing my vision was a tad bit blurry. But the moment my eyes locked on King, they seemed to clear up quickly. He was scowling, and I wondered what had happened to make him look so unpleasant.

  “You found me,” Sebastian replied, barely glancing at the other two. “What do you want?”

  Thatcher walked into the row and sat down on the other side of Sebastian. “Nothing. Just curious. Well, King was the one who was curious. He couldn’t find Rumor, and you were the last one seen with her.”

  I frowned. Who had seen me with Sebastian? Did he mean at the stables? And why had King been looking for me? A shadow came over me, and I tilted my head back to see King taking the seat beside me. I took a drink from my glass and studied him over the rim of it, then found myself laughing again. I didn’t know why exactly. He was still scowling and looking all mean, but it was funny.

  “How many of those have you had?” he asked me, reaching for my glass.

  I moved it back away from him. “I don’t know, but you can’t have it,” I informed him.

  “Three,” Sebastian said. “Give or take. Mostly give.”

  King held out his hand for my glass, as if I would give it to him. “That’s too many. Minna makes those strong. Hand it to me, Rumor.”

  The way he spoke to me like I was a child should make me mad. I should tell him to kiss my ass. But I snickered and took another drink, watching as his brows drew together.

  “Now, Rumor.” His tone deepened.

  I swallowed the salty sweetness and shook my head. “I am not one of your little…obedient females. I don’t…don’t have to do anything you say.”

  I heard a deep chuckle behind me, but I didn’t turn around to see which of them was laughing at me.

  “Okay, so maybe I let her have too much. But she was relaxed for a change,” Sebastian said.

  I nodded. I was relaxed. I agreed with him.

  King reached for my glass again, and I tried to snatch it away, but he took it from me too quickly.

  “Give it back!” I demanded.

  “No.”

  “You are not my daddy!” I informed him.

  He paused and raised an eyebrow, then set the drink down on the other side of him without taking his eyes off me. “No, I’m not.” His voice sounded husky as he studied my face.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed, then turned to stare at the screen. We had been doing just fine without him here. We didn’t need him and his bossy ways. This wasn’t his house. It was Sebastian’s house. Thatcher’s, too, but I didn’t think I liked him very much, so he didn’t count.

  I turned to look at Sebastian. “Can I have your glass?” I asked him.

  His gaze lifted to look behind me, and he pressed his lips together, then shook his head as he returned his attention to me. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be sick and hate me in the morning.”

  That was how it was going to be? Fine. I would just leave. I stood up and felt slightly off-balance for a moment and reached to grab something to steady me when two large hands wrapped around my waist.

  “Easy,” King said close to my ear.

  I shivered and turned my head just barely to peer up at him.

  His jaw was clenched again, like he was mad. Second time today that I’d seen angry King. Nothing like the King I’d grown accustomed to. The King I liked. As a friend, of course. I was married, or I was a widow—I wasn’t sure exactly.

  “I’ll take you home,” King said, then wrapped an arm around my waist and started to lead me away from the others.

  “Wait,” I said, trying to turn back around but he stopped me. With a frustrated sigh, I glared at him. “I need to tell Sebastian bye and thank him for tonight.”

  “He heard you. He’s been thanked. Let’s go,” King replied, the tic in his jaw unmistakable. Even if I was slightly tipsy.

  “This is rude,” I told him.

  “He understands,” King said, pushing me to move forward.

  I tried to jerk free and stalk away from him, but I stumbled, and then I was no longer on my feet, but in the air. Or rather in King’s arms. He was carrying me. I looked up at him and wished his face weren’t so nice and his arms weren’t so muscly and his abs weren’t so ripped.

  The corner of his lips twitched. “Ripped, huh?” he asked, glancing down at me.

  I covered my mouth with my hand. “I said that out loud?”

  He smirked. “Yep. The muscly arms and nice face too.”

  Crap. I closed my eyes and already knew I was going to be really humiliated in the morning. Right now, he smelled too good. Like cedar trees, freshly cut, and cinnamon. It was a sexy scent, and I wanted to bury my face in his neck and inhale.

  “What was that about cinnamon?” he asked, and I gasped, covering my mouth again.

  The cool night air hit me in the face, and I realized we were outside already. How had we done that so fast? Where was the underground garage?

  “I don’t park my truck down there. It’s out here.”

  Clearly, I could not keep my mouth from speaking my thoughts.

  “I can walk,” I told him.

  “No, you can’t. You already made that clear.”

  I slapped at his chest. “You’re mean. I thought you were nice, and you are not nice, King. You are mean. You do mean things.”

  He stopped and dropped his gaze to mine. “I’m not mean. I’m angry right now at Sebastian for getting you drunk.”

  I shook my head. “You…you…you like to hit women.”

  His eyes didn’t leave mine. “No, I don’t. I spank them, but only the ones who want me to. I tie them up because they want it and ask for it. I’m not mean.”

  I swallowed hard as his blue eyes seemed to glow under the moonlight. “Why do you want to spank them?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Because I like it when they give me control. When they submit to me. When they trust me to give them pleasure and want me to take them to the brink of pain. Pleasurable pain.”

  I felt hot. All over. I needed to take off my hoodie and stick my head in a freezer maybe.

  “I would never hurt a woman, Rumor. I only fuck women who want the same thing I do.”

  I stared at him, unable to say anything more. I believed him. I’d seen the blonde today. She had clearly wanted him. Even though she’d been screaming.

  He started walking again, and then he opened the truck door and set me inside of it. I laid my head back on the seat, and he reached in to buckle me. I didn’t bother telling him I could do it because I wasn’t so sure I could. Maybe I had drunk a little too much.

  When he closed the door, my eyes followed him as he walked around the front of the truck. The seat was warm, and it smelled like him. My eyes felt heavy, and I closed them, letting the comfort seep in as I drifted away.

  • twenty-two •

  “He was just kinky.”

  Rumor

  Before I opened my eyes, I realized my mouth felt as if I had swallowed cotton balls. I tried to create saliva and felt the slight ache in my head. As I squinted against the sunlight pouring into the room, last night came back to me all in one big rush.

  I’d gone to Sebastian’s, eaten Mexican food, drunk margaritas, watched a movie, then King…had come and gotten me. Carried me to his truck. Told me…he spanked women who wanted it. Women who submitted to him for pleasure.

  I sucked in air through my teeth and sat up. The last thing I remembered was getting inside his truck. Studying my clothing, I found that I was in the tank top and bra I’d had on underneath my hoodie, but my shorts were gone. I was in my panties.

  Had I undressed myself? My eyes scanned the room, and I found my hoodie neatly folded, along with my shorts, on the end of the bed. Drunk me wouldn’t have folded my clothes so neatly. I doubted sober me would have even done that. Had King undressed me? Was he here? I looked at the other side of the untouched bed, and I wasn’t sure if I was relieved to see I had slept alone or disappointed.

  Shaking my head, I stood up. I was not disappointed. I would not be. King was not for me. No one was for me. I might still have a husband who would be hell-bent on finding me and possibly killing me.

  I started to walk over to the sink when I noticed a glass of water and two white pills on my bedside table. Aspirin. I reached for them and then took the water to wash them down. King had definitely done that.

  Okay, so he wasn’t mean. He wasn’t abusive. He was just kinky.

  I let out a groan and decided I needed coffee before a shower. Reaching for my shorts, I slid them on. Then, I took my glass and made my way to the kitchen, then stopped when I walked into the room. The coffeepot was full, and there was a plate covered in foil on the table with an empty cup beside it. On top lay a note. I walked over to pick it up.

  Take the aspirin, drink all the water, and eat. I only brought over the greasy stuff. It’s best for a hangover.

  —K

  I might have reread it two more times before placing it beside the plate and taking the foil off. Bacon, biscuit and regular sausage gravy—not the red tomato stuff—a sausage patty, and some cheese grits filled the plate. There was no way I was going to be able to eat all this, but I would eat some of it. He was right. I needed to get food in my stomach. I glanced down at the note again and found myself smiling. Even if he had forced me to leave last night, he’d carried me in, asleep, undressed me, and put me in bed. Then, he went and made sure I had coffee made, food to eat. He had even left me some aspirin.