High Stakes (The Kingdom Book 2) (37 page)

It takes a couple of seconds before the name sinks into my mind. Simon Ackerman … he was my father’s best friend.

Your father took what was mine and handed it to you …

“Simon Ackerman was your … father?” I say quietly in disbelief.

“Give the man a fucking medal.” He cries manically. “Yes … I’m the bastard son. The one he wouldn’t acknowledge. The one that was born from an affair that he ended as soon as it interfered with his perfect fucking life …” His composure is dropping, and I know we have to end this soon.

“So, you want The Kingdom, is that it? You can have it; I’ll sign it over to you now. Just let Lottie go. She has nothing to do with this.”

“You know what I did?” he says, laughing and ignoring my statement. “I only loaded every other chamber. So, how about we play a little game? You like roulette, right?” His eyes go wide. “Of course, you like roulette, you own
my
fucking casino! So here’s what we’re gonna do … We’re gonna have a little game of our own, it’s called Russian Roulette. One for her, one for you.” He twists his head to the side, and his finger starts to shake as he puts more pressure on the trigger. I place my hand on my hip, hoping I can slide it to the back of my jeans to retrieve my gun in time. Then he says something that changes the game completely.

“I’m curious to see if you have the same expression as your father did when I fired that bullet through. His. Skull,” he hisses.

Those words fire through my heart and rage rips through me. My hand moves fast, but not fast enough. Lottie cries out and claws at his hand, but he holds her tight and squeezes the trigger. I rush forward, knowing there’s no possible way I can make it in time, but having to try anyway.

He hits an empty chamber, but all of us are knocked to the ground when Aaron flies through the door from behind, and takes Jonny down by his neck.

The rest happens so fast.

Three shots are fired, one of them from my gun.

Then the room falls silent, letting the echo of the shots ring out.

I pull myself up from the ground, and make a grab for Jonny’s gun. He doesn’t fight back. He doesn’t move. As my eyes travel up his torso, I notice the bloom of fresh blood across his shirt. He’s dead.

Aaron is unconscious, too, and I’m just about to check him when Lottie’s screams fill the room.

“He shot her, oh my god, he shot her. No, no, no … Jack … do something,” she yells frantically.

I rush to her, pulling Lottie out of the way to see what she is yelling about. Blood is staining Arianna’s white gown and is splashed across her chest. “Jack. Is she okay? Jack …” No answer. His body lies across Arianna’s, where he’s shielded her. “She’s hasn’t been shot,” I mutter under my breath. “Shit, she hasn’t been shot, that’s not her blood.” I shake his shoulder to rouse him. “Jack, man, can you hear me?” I ask him in a panic.

“Sir,” he gasps on a strained breath. He is still laying over Arianna so I roll him carefully onto his back and he slumps to the floor. I kneel next to him and support his head in my hand. His breaths are shallow and coming irregularly. Shit. He’s been shot in the chest.

“It’s okay, man, listen to me. We’re gonna get you some help, okay? Stay with me, buddy.”

“I can’t,” he groans and stops trying to keep his eyes open.

“Don’t talk, just stay with me, okay? You’re my man. You saved my girl. You saved her. And when we get you out of here later, we’re going to have a fucking great big party, and maybe you’ll tell Tara how you really feel about her, it’s about time she knew, okay, man?” I’m waffling, I know I am. But I want him to hear me, to stay with me. I need to keep him alive. He has to live. “Jack …. Jack? Fuck. No … NO!” I yell.

The room comes to life with a flurry of nurses, and one bends to check Jack’s pulse.

She sighs and her eyes soften regretfully. “Sir,” she says softly, and my stomach sinks with dread.

“No. He can’t—” My throat constricts, and I know what’s coming next.

The nurse shakes her head gently. “I’m sorry.”

I CRACK OPEN MY EYES
. It’s an effort, they are heavy and don’t want to move at any speed. In the times it takes for my eyes to adjust to the light of the room, I try and analyze where I am. It’s quiet, and other than a steady bleep of a machine next to me, there’s very little sound.

I’m in a hospital. Again.

Why am I here?

How long have I been here?

This all too familiar awakening makes my stomach churn. And then I remember the events leading up to me being here. I snap my eyes shut as it dawns on me that I didn’t succeed. I didn’t want to be in this world any longer, but I couldn’t even manage to do that properly.

But as my brain awakens further, I’m aware of something else. Someone else.

I can smell him. I can feel him. And my body reacts to his presence like no one else.

Denham King.

I force my eyes open and glance to my side where he’s sitting in the chair sound asleep, with his head resting on the bed just to my side. I lift my hand, and although it feels like lead and takes every bit of strength that I have, I need to touch him. Am I dreaming?

I stroke his soft hair, and trail my fingertips over his stubbled jaw.

“Stunner,” he groans, his voice rough with sleep but gentle. He lifts his head. “Are you okay? How do you feel?” His eyes search mine. He looks tired.

“I …” I blow out a breath, trying to piece everything together but making no sense of it. “I don’t really know what’s happening here. Jonny … he …” I frown.

Denham stands from his chair and cups my face with his big, strong hands. It feels like home. “He’s gone. It’s over, Ari. All of it. It’s over,” he whispers before tilting my head upwards gently and covering my mouth with his. And for just this moment, that’s all I need to know. Nothing else matters right now. He holds his lips on mine; communicating as only we can, and now I know I’m not dreaming. This is very real. I never thought I would be back in his arms, never thought I would get to kiss his lips again. “I love you, Arianna,” he murmurs against my lips, then pulls away and runs his thumbs over my cheekbones. “I love you. So fucking much.” His eyes glisten with emotion and raw honesty. And tears of my own, filled with happiness, and relief, spill uncontrollably and roll down my cheeks. “I thought I’d lost you, too,” he says, as he rests his forehead softly against mine. “I couldn’t bear losing you.” His tears fall, and mingle with mine as we reunite. It may have only been a small time apart, but it felt like a lifetime, and it’s a reunion I never thought to even dream of.

“I love you, too,” I whisper. “I love you, too.”

8 weeks later

Freedom.

I never thought it would come. And, now that I have it, I didn’t know how to deal with it.

I find it hard to relax and let go. Which makes me realize just how often I looked over my shoulder, and just how much of a burden I carried around with me.

That night changed everything.

Jonny died from a single bullet to his heart. Ironically, that fatal shot was fired by Denham, from Carter King’s gun. Karma had come full circle, and while I wasn’t happy that a life had been taken, I couldn’t help but feel this was the only way we could have ever moved on.

The only way out. For me. For Denham. For us.

Our pasts were intertwined. Connected by Jonny. Our hearts had been broken by him. Shattered into tiny pieces, seemingly beyond repair, until our paths crossed, and fate found a way to put us back together. But it seemed that our happiness was going to come at a price, and we were given no choice but to pay it.

That night, Denham lost his best friend. The man he thought of as a second brother.

Jack’s funeral was hard on everyone. It symbolized the end of many things, and I couldn’t help feeling heartbroken, guilty, and grateful at the same time. He had saved my life. The life I had tried to take out of desperation and despair, just hours earlier. And while I lay helpless in that hospital bed, unaware of the devastation unfolding around me, Jack had shielded my body, and risked his life for mine.

Tara was dealing with it in the way she knew best. With her head in the sand and a bottle of Tequila in her hand. She, along with the rest of us, were plagued with ‘what ifs’, only she had to deal with the regret of not acknowledging the way Jack felt about her. It was too late, and only time could heal that part of her.

Aaron took a shot to his shoulder, but it wasn’t life threatening. He was patched up, taken in for questioning, and released on bail, pending further enquiries. It turns out Jonny had people looking for me everywhere. It wasn’t until Aaron’s and my engagement picture appeared in a newspaper and one of Jonny’s hired help spotted it, that all my efforts were dashed. I don’t blame Aaron for the poor decisions he made. We’ve all made bad choices. I don’t hate him. I feel sorry for him, if anything. Despite everything, I know he’s not a bad person, and now he’s free from the web that was woven around me, and he can hopefully move on and start over. Denham has been amazing, supportive, and my rock through the hardest of times. I wouldn’t be the person I am without his unwavering support and insistence that I be my own person.

“Lotts?” I ask, turning to her as we stand in the doorway to the penthouse.

“Yes, babe?”

“Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”

She laughs softly. “Nope. I have to do this.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

Lottie drops her bags at her feet, and turns to face me. “I know. But I have to do this, Ari.”

“If you’d just give him a little more time, I know he’d—”

“Don’t Ari. I could give him weeks, months, but it wouldn’t change anything. He doesn’t want me.”

“He does want you. He’s just too proud to admit it. He’s lost the use of his legs, Lottie. How do you expect him to feel?” I can’t hide the frustration in my voice.

“Arianna,” she sighs, and I instantly feel guilty for the pain that weighs in her eyes. I’m being selfish. She needs to do this. She wants to do this for herself. As hard as it is for Spike to deal with everything that’s happened, he would be so much happier if his male pride would let her in.

“But it’s eleven hours away,” I pout, and she laughs before covering my hands with hers.

“I know. I’ll video call you all the time.”

“You’d better.” I pull my hands from hers and fling them around her neck.

Do not cry. Do not cry.

Denham comes to join us in the doorway, and he encases us both in a big group hug. As he pulls away, I’m finding it harder to retain my composure. I’m losing my best friend. She’s moving halfway around the world, and I feel like a part of me will be missing. We’ve been through so much together, especially in the last couple of months, and although I will miss her like crazy, I know she needs to do this. The selfish part of me hopes she will hate it in London, and get on the first plane back. Of course, I don’t mean that. I want her to be happy, wherever she goes.

“Okay, Lotts. You ready to go?” Denham asks, grabbing up her bags for her.

She takes a deep breath and when she brings her head up; her eyes are brimming with tears.

“I love you, Ari,” she whispers, as the tears roll down her cheeks. She flings her arms around my neck, and that snaps the last bit of restraint that I have. I cry into her shoulder, hard. She’s more like a sister to me than a friend, and I already feel incomplete without her.