“Please.”

  “That’s what they say, isn’t it? When you threaten to ruin them if they don’t go along with it?”

  “What the fuck do you want?”

  King hauled him to his feet by his neck. “What I want, other than to cause you an excruciating amount of pain, is for you to pay for your crimes.” He led Barry into the kitchen, pulled out one of the chairs, and forced him into it. “Don’t move.” Barry’s gaze darted to the doorway, and King shook his head as he walked over to one of the kitchen drawers. “You don’t listen very well, do you?”

  “Wait, what happened to your accent? You’re American?”

  King ignored him, opening the drawers until he found what he was looking for. “Ah. Perfect.” He lifted the roll of duct tape. “I love this stuff.”

  Barry’s eyes went wide, and he bolted out of the chair. King was in the doorway before the guy got there. He threw his hand out, snatching hold of his neck and squeezing. Barry made a gurgling noise as he tried to pry King’s fingers off him.

  “What did I say about listening?”

  “I’m sorry,” Barry wheezed as King shoved him down into the chair again. He secured Barry to the chair, his arms trapped against his sides. As soon as the top was done, King taped his ankles to the chair’s legs. Returning the tape to the drawer, King moved the kitchen table out of the way. He checked under the sink and found a roll of trash bags. Tearing two off, he found a pair of scissors and cut them open. He lay the cut bags flat on the floor, took hold of Barry’s chair with him in it, lifted it, then slammed him down in the center.

  “Fuck! What the hell are you doing? Are you fucking insane?”

  King picked up a second chair and placed it directly in front of Barry.

  “What… what are you going to do?”

  “I try not to judge people,” King said as he took a seat. “Who am I to lay judgment on another human being after the things I’ve done? Yes, I could argue that I was following orders, that I was doing it for my country, that war hurts everyone, not just those on the frontlines, but when all is said and done, I made a choice. I chose to take lives to save others. Granted, they were murderers, rapists, and terrorists, but they were human lives. The thing is, I’ve made peace with my demons. We cohabit somewhat amicably. I feed them on occasion, and they appreciate it.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “You’re right. That’s neither here nor there.”

  “Are you going to kill me?”

  “There are things out there scarier than death, believe me. Let’s get started, shall we?” King leaned forward.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Barry struggled, but he didn’t so much as budge.

  “I’m going to give you something to think about.” King took hold of Barry’s lower arm, squeezing a pressure point that had Barry crying out at the pain, which King knew from firsthand experience was particularly excruciating.

  “Oh God! Please don’t do this! What the fuck do you want from me?”

  “You have this terrible habit of not listening, Barry. You need to pay for your crimes. I have a private plane waiting for me. You’re going to join me. We’ll fly back to the States, where you will promptly turn yourself in and confess to your crimes.”

  Barry let out a bark of laughter. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not going to prison for a bunch of little sluts who were happy to get fucked to save their job.”

  The human body was incredible. With just the right pressure, one could either alleviate pain or cause a great amount of it, all without leaving a mark. King pressed his thumb into a sweet little spot on the inside of Barry’s right knee.

  “Oh fuck!” Barry cried out, tears pooling in his eyes. “Stop. Please!”

  “See, the thing is, those young men weren’t happy to have you fuck them. They were scared, vulnerable, and intimidated. You took advantage of them because that’s what predators like you do, and you raped them. You’re a rapist, Barry.”

  “No, that’s not—”

  King took hold of Barry’s wrist and squeezed, making Barry howl. With a sigh, King stood and went to the drawer, cut off a piece of duct tape, and slapped it over Barry’s mouth. He placed his thumbs to the same spot on Barry’s other wrist. “I have plenty more pressure points to choose from, and every time you lie to me, the pain is going to get worse and worse until you eventually pass out. I’ll then wake you up, and we’ll start all over. Now, let’s try this again. You threatened young men with ruining their fledgling careers and coerced them into having sex with you, and the ones who tried to refuse, you forced. You’re a rapist, Barry.”

  Tears streamed down Barry’s face as King pressed his thumbs into Barry’s wrist. It wasn’t the kind of torture technique he’d use on a trained enemy, but it was more than enough for this bastard. King continued to exploit Barry’s pressure points, from his inner thigh to his neck. A little less than an hour in, and Barry nodded furiously. King removed one side of the tape, peeling it back, and waited.

  “Okay, yes. I forced them. I took advantage of them. But please. I worked too long and too hard on my career to—”

  “Wrong answer.” King flipped the tape back. “A lot of people when they fight go for the quickest, most effective points to bring someone down. The groin, the shin, the kidneys, the eyes. Me? I like a good solid punch to the solar plexus.” He placed two fingers to the center of Barry’s torso just below his heart and lungs. “This little bundle of nerves in here is great, because when it gets hit, and I mean hit, your organs go into shock and you go down. Breathing will become difficult, and the pain is, well, why don’t I show you?” King pulled back his fist and snarled, no intention of hitting the guy, but Barry didn’t know that.

  Barry’s eyes went wide, and he convulsed against the chair in an effort to get away. Tears mixed with snot as he sobbed. He shook his head furiously, mumbling against the tape. King pulled back the silver strip, then sat back.

  “Yes?”

  “Who the fuck are you?” Barry asked through sobs.

  “I’m a man with a mission, and until I complete my mission, I won’t stop. I’ve been following you for over a month. You know what the great thing about CCTV is? You’re around it long enough, you forget it’s there. I didn’t forget.”

  “Please, man. I don’t want to go to jail. I won’t survive.”

  “Should have thought of that before you sexually assaulted fifty-three young men over the course of fifteen years. You’re going away for a very, very long time. I’m going to make sure of it.”

  The loathing in Barry’s eyes was impressive, and then his expression turned smug. “None of them will testify.”

  King reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stack of airline ticket receipts. “These boys are. They’re at home packing as we speak.” The shock on Barry’s face made King smile. “See, it only took one very brave young man to come forward to inspire others. Plus, they have me, my men, and my company to support them. They don’t have to worry about legal fees, intimidation, or threats to their lives because protecting people is what we do.”

  “I have money,” Barry spat out.

  “I have more.” King leaned forward, his eyes meeting Barry’s. “I know how men like you operate. You think you have money and friends in high places? Well, so do I. If I need to use every contact in my arsenal to take you down, then I will, and if it comes to that, I promise you that I will bury you in a hole so deep no one will ever remember you even existed.”

  “What do you care? They’re nobodies to you.”

  “Wrong again. See, one of these young men is family, and because of him and what you did to him, I know about you, and what you did to them. For a long time, you’ve been the monster haunting his dreams. I’m here to put an end to that.”

  “And what does that make you? You think torturing me into a confession makes you a hero?”

  King snorted. “You think I’m doing this to be a hero?” He leaned forward and pressed a thumb to the pressure point on the inside of Barry’s knee, tearing another scream from him. “This isn’t about heroics, Barry. This is about me protecting my family.”

  “What makes you think I won’t tell them you coerced me into confessing?”

  “Because that would really upset me, and then you’d upset my brothers, and they won’t take kindly to that. Did I mention they’re all very talented individuals? Oh, and one’s the boyfriend of one of the young men you raped. With you on US soil, how do you think he’ll feel if you go back on your word and end up free on the streets? I’m the calm, rational one. There’s only so much I’ll be able to do to keep these guys from hunting you down, and, well, you seem to have a pretty good imagination.” King sat back and folded his arms over his chest. “Take your time. Think about it. I have all the time in the world.”

  “You’re not going to kill me,” Barry challenged.

  “No. But wherever you go, I’ll go. Consider me your new shadow. I’ll show up at your job, the pub, Tesco’s, and when someone asks who I am, I’ll just tell them the truth. I wonder what your industry friends and contacts will think when they hear about what you’ve done? You think this is torture?” King sat forward, his stare hard. “I haven’t even started, and I won’t have to lay a finger on you.”

  Barry didn’t move his gaze from King’s, but King saw the wheels turning behind the man’s shrewd brown eyes. He sat up, and Barry flinched.

  “Okay.”

  King held a hand up to his ear. “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

  “Okay. I’ll turn myself in, confess to everything. I’ll cooperate.”

  “Smart choice. Here’s what’s going to happen.” King stood, walked to the kitchen counter, and pulled a knife from the knife block. “I’m going to cut you free, make a call, and then we’re going to get into the black cab that’ll be waiting outside to take us to the private airfield. We’ll get on my plane, and as soon as we land in sunny Florida, you’ll be taken away in handcuffs by the FBI.” He stood over Barry, knife in hand. “If at any point in time you try to do something stupid, I will not hesitate to correct you on your grievous error of judgment.” King cut Barry loose. He pointed to the side of the kitchen. “Stand there and don’t move.”

  Barry rushed to do as King asked, resignation written all over him. He was done. King hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d become the man’s shadow. He knew the hells of torture well, and any man strong enough to survive even the worst physical torture rarely stood a chance against his own mind. The human brain could only take so much before it broke, no matter the training.

  Escorting Barry to his bedroom to fetch his passport and any necessary documents—since he would not be returning to his luxury London flat, or to the country, for that matter, considering he was a US citizen—he then led Barry outside to the cab waiting by the curb. He opened the backdoor and waited. A heartbeat later, Barry climbed in, and King slid in beside him.

  Less than an hour later, King escorted Barry up the stairs and into the plane. He shoved him down into the seat across from him, then fastened Barry’s seat belt a little tighter than necessary. “In case there’s turbulence,” King said with a smile. He took a seat, thanking the stewardess for the drink. She turned to their guest, and King shook his head. “He won’t be having any. Airsickness.”

  The stewardess nodded. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thank you.” King removed his phone from his pocket and entered the code into his speed dial.

  “Yeah?”

  “The package is en route.”

  “Affirmative.”

  King hung up and got comfortable. It was going to be a long eight hours. Thankfully, Barry didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. King sent a text to Ace, who’d inform Red. The only one who knew he was even in London was Ace. They’d agreed it would be best to wait until King had Barry in his custody before they got Laz’s hopes up. Ever since the incident with Elena and Bryan, Laz had been determined to see justice done, so King set out to make sure it happened.

  The plane landed at Northeast Florida Regional Airport, and as soon as they were given the all-clear, King removed his seat belt and stood. He stretched, then showed Barry to the door. Having swapped his winter outerwear for a light jacket halfway through the flight, King removed his sunglasses from his front breast pocket and waited for the exit door to be opened. He stepped out onto the stairs and let out a heavy sigh. Wonderful.

  “Move,” King ordered, following Barry down the stairs to the tarmac, where a small team of federal agents and several men and women in suits stood to his right, while a small group of Army soldiers stood to the left, three large black Suburbans with pitch-black tinted windows parked close by. King turned to one of the women to his right wearing a sharp tailored suit.

  “Ms. Cunningham, this is Mr. Barry Wheeldon.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Kingston. We’ll take it from here.”

  King handed Barry over, not sparing him another glance before he turned and walked over to the soldiers, one of whom stepped forward.

  “Sir, please come with us.”

  King motioned for the private to lead the way, and he followed close behind to the middle Suburban, the back door of which was opened for him when he approached. The private saluted the man inside the vehicle and was then dismissed.

  King poked his head in and shook it. “And here I thought you’d be out on some golf course working on your backswing.” He climbed in beside the handsome man in his early sixties, closing the door behind him. “General.”

  The General chuckled and shook King’s outstretched hand. “Long time, Ward.” The general tapped the glass divider, and the engine roared to life.

  “I’m guessing this isn’t a social visit.”

  “No. You look well, by the way. I hear you and the boys are doing real good. I’m proud of you, son.”

  King swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Thank you, sir.” They had a history together, an unbreakable bond forged in loss, grief, and secrets. If anyone found out the real reason their unit was sent to Syria, they’d all be arrested. The only people who knew were the General, the Kings, Jack, Joker, and the men who never made it back.

  “I need your advice.”

  King wasn’t easily surprised, but that certainly did it. The man had the whole of the US government and its military at his disposal. What the hell would he need King for?

  “I have this high-level asset who’s working on something crucial for our government. Thing is, he’s not… how do I put this? He’s unique. A genius. When it comes to coding, there’s no one better, but he’s not so good with everything else. We’ve got him in a secure facility with a team in place, some of the brightest minds in our country, but he’s… well, it’s a goddamn mess. We have a small army in place to ensure his safety, and somehow he keeps giving them the slip. It boggles my mind. We have tried everything.”

  “He’s got to know the security is there for his protection. Is he putting up a fight?”

  “No. I don’t know how he does it, but he disappears. We need him to finish this project, but he’s struggling bad, and I’ve reached the end of my rope. Washington’s expecting results, and if they don’t get it, they’re going to force it, and you and I both know what that means, but that won’t work with him. They’ll end up killing him, Ward.”

  “You have to find someone who can work within the parameters of his needs as well as ensure that their priority remains his safety. It’s a balancing act. It’s about creating the ideal environment, one in which he can function, but also serves as a place of comfort, security.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” the General replied, letting out a steady breath. “I knew talking to you was the right thing to do. You’ll do great.”

  King blinked at him. “I’m sorry?” He let out a laugh. “Oh no. I’m done.”

  “Ward, I need you on this. It has to be you.”

  “No.” King crossed his arms over his chest, his stomach feeling like it was full of lead. “I played by the rules, did my part. I’ve sacrificed enough.”

  “And I haven’t?” the General growled, the car plunging into silence.

  King turned his attention out the window, hating that this conversation was taking him back to that place. It was supposed to be over. He was proud to have served, but he was done.

  “I’m sorry. I know what I’m asking of you.”

  “Do you? Because it seems to me like you’re asking me to take on Washington again.”

  “No.” The General’s soft tone had King turning to look at him. The fear in his eyes caught King off guard. “I’m asking you to protect my son.”

  King sat frozen to the spot, unsure he’d heard correctly.

  “He means the world to me, Ward. If one of those bastards gets their hands on him, I don’t need to tell you what would happen.”

  They’d make him disappear, and the General would never see his son again, or if he did, it wouldn’t be alive.

  “Ward, please.”

  King closed his eyes and inhaled in a long steady breath before releasing it slowly. He lifted his gaze to meet the General’s.

  “Okay. I’ll protect your son.”

  The adventure continues with King and Leo’s story, Diamond in the Rough, the fourth book in the Four Kings Security series.

  Diamond in the Rough

  Synopsis

  For Ward “King” Kingston the role of protector, forged by fire and tragedy, is one he takes seriously. When King is asked to safeguard the son of a four-star general and friend, he is pulled back into the world of government black ops on a mission that raises painful memories from his past. The moment King meets Leo, amid the chaos of a lockdown at a secret black site, it’s clear he’s never faced a challenge like this—one that will test his unwavering sense of control.