Charming Asshole (Killer of Kings Book 3) Read online

  So much. More than you can ever know.

  Chapter Two

  Killian had come here to clear his head, and never expected this revelation. All these years he’d had a kid and didn’t even know it. Years he’d missed out on. He was no different than his own father who’d fucked his mother and disappeared. He felt sick to his stomach. And pissed off with the world.

  He looked around the apartment, and his gut did another flip. Over the past ten years, he’d lived on top of the world with more cash than he could spend. Killer of Kings was very lucrative, and now he was Boss’s right-hand man used for personal security and priority hits. He’d never stopped thinking of June, but had honestly believed she’d moved on with her life. The belief had both comforted him and torn him to shreds. Now he’d discovered she’d been slumming it in a piece of shit apartment, all her dreams left behind.

  And there was a kid. His kid.

  Killian couldn’t believe the past was on rewind, his own son struggling to survive with a single mother killing herself to put food on the table. He felt tears prick his eyes, his throat getting scratchy. His kid deserved better than he’d had it. Shit, he shouldn’t be running the streets in hand-me-down clothes, stealing to survive.

  But it was too late to make amends. Killian would never see him as a father. He would forever be a fucking stranger, the bastard who’d abandoned his mother. He paced the room more, feeling anxious and volatile. He wanted to be angry at June, but she was right. He’d left with no way to contact him. It was supposed to be a sacrifice on his part, giving her up so she could live a normal life, a good life. If he had known she carried his baby, he never would have walked away.

  “You didn’t tell him anything, did you?” she asked.

  He turned to find her back in the room with him. “Tell him what? That I’m his father?”

  “Yeah. That.”

  “No, but is that a problem? He is my son, after all.”

  She shook her head. “You gave up that right when you left without a trace. I won’t have you confusing him, hurting him. He’ll just fall in love with you, and then you’ll be gone. Trust me, I know how that feels.”

  “I didn’t know you were pregnant. For God’s sake, you can’t pretend I don’t exist. I just found out I was a father twenty minutes ago,” he said.

  “Well, I’ve been his mother and father for the past ten years. It hasn’t been easy, but I managed. You know why, because I had no choice. Being a parent comes with a lifetime responsibility, but you wouldn’t understand that, would you?”

  His fists clenched at his sides. He felt like he was on trial for a crime he hadn’t committed, and he’d done a lot of bad shit.

  “Look, I haven’t stopped thinking about you over the years. You’re the reason I came back to this town. But this, a kid, I never imagined any of it. If I’d known things would have been different,” he said.

  “Let me guess, you wouldn’t have come back at all? Don’t worry, I don’t want your child support. You’re free to leave.” She crossed her arms over her chest again, completely blocking him out.

  So many nights he’d picture this moment, this reunion, and it sure turned out better than the reality.

  “You’re fucking impossible!” He walked over to her and braced a hand on each of her shoulders. “I want to help. I want to make things right.”

  “I can’t do this. I won’t have you play with Killian’s heartstrings … or mine.” She shrugged him off and opened the door. “Pretend you never found us. You’re good at that.”

  He stood in the doorway for a minute, staring at her. She hadn’t changed much since she was an innocent eighteen year old, still a natural beauty—still stubborn. Her gray eyes held him captive as they always had. One thing he couldn’t help but notice was how she’d matured into a woman, a woman with enough curves to make his dick take notice. Just looking at her now, he struggled to take his eyes off her. She had a big, juicy set of tits, that there was no hiding. She had a rounder stomach, and even her thighs looked thicker. He didn’t mind. This was his woman.

  But he didn’t like how tired she looked, dark circles under her eyes, the zest he remembered snuffed out. This life could do that to a person, he knew that firsthand. He’d watched his own mother waste away, her hard reality stripping her essence layer by layer until she was a shell of a woman.

  Killian wanted to make things right, to give her back that sparkle, to make her dreams come true.

  He wasn’t going to fight her on this, not when they were both strung out on emotions. “If you think this is over, you’re wrong. I’ll never leave my son.”

  “Goodbye, Killian.” She slammed the door on his ass. He wanted to punch his fist through it.

  He noted the apartment number and the full address before he went back to his car. The ocean no longer held interest. He had a load of shit to think about.

  Killian drove around the town, half in a daze. It hadn’t improved over the years. In fact, it had gotten worse. He parked at the best-looking motel he could find, and got a room for a couple nights. As soon as he got his key and settled in, he called Maurice, one of the guys he used for occasional intel.

  “I need some information. Fast,” he said as soon as Maurice answered.

  “Um, who’s speaking?”

  He exhaled, his patience still back in that apartment. “It’s Killian. I need you to give me everything you can find on June Harris, twenty-eight, and her kid, Killian Harris.”

  “Killian? There something I should know?”

  “Just get me the details. This needs to take priority,” Killian said.

  “I’ll see what I can pull up. Should I send it to the same account?”

  “Yeah. Thanks, Maurice.” He hung up the phone, not in the mood to chitchat or to explain the shitty situation he’d gotten himself in. It was embarrassing. He wasn’t a fucking deadbeat. He’d never planned on having any kids, but knowing he had a little boy changed everything.

  He crashed back on the bed, the springs whining. How many miles had been put on this mattress? The ceiling had leak stains, and he tried to discover patterns in the yellow blotches. He closed his eyes, taking calming breaths.

  When June said she’d had no one all these years, it tore him apart. He knew what if felt like to have no one and nothing. His roots were humble to say the least, but his harsh childhood had formed him into the man he was today. The only regret he really had was not being able to save his mother—that would fuck with his head until the day he died.

  His phone vibrated.

  He logged into his private server and opened Maurice’s email. The man was a god behind a computer, and had saved his ass more times than he could count. There were pages of information, overloading his head with guilt and anger. Everything June had told him was the truth. She also hadn’t married or had any common law relationships. He expected lies from everyone because that’s what he usually fell back on. Killian had started his white lies in public school, telling his friends about his fine home in the country, and the parents who loved and spoiled him. The truth had always been a bastard he wanted no part of.

  The information on his son was more disturbing. He’d been involved with the cops, petty stealing, fights at school, and running away. The little fucker must have put June through the same hell he’d put his own mother through. He needed a father to set him straight, and in this case that responsibility fell on him.

  Tomorrow he’d visit June with a level head. Tonight he needed a pub to forget absolutely everything.

  ****

  June began her usual chores around the house, doing the dishes from last night, gathering up the laundry to bring to the laundromat tomorrow, and wiping down the dinette from breakfast. She moved like a robot, her heart still racing. She couldn’t think about this now, think about him. Tears were a luxury she learned to hold back for the sake of her son. She refused to let him see how broken she was most nights, wanting nothing more than to cry herself to sleep. But they shared
the only bedroom and she had to ensure his happiness.

  She didn’t know what she’d tell Killian Junior when he finished his homework. And he’d ask. That boy was smart, and he’d know something wasn’t right.

  Tonight she’d taken an extra shift at one of the local pubs, so a babysitter was coming once Killian was in bed. She hated paying for childcare, but she had no choice. The little money she’d clear was still better than nothing, and tips on closing shift were usually the best.

  June began putting the clean dishes away. Her body, mind, and soul were tired. She’d imagined Killian coming back for her, like her knight in shining armor. He’d love her, take care of her, and they’d live happily ever after like in the fairytales. But June had given up on dreams so many years ago. She’d given up on Killian returning.

  When she first saw him, she knew it was her lost love. She’d never forget his face.

  Although she’d recognize him anywhere, he’d roughened around the edges. He looked damn good, and it pissed her off that she was even more attracted to him now than over a decade ago. He had a five o’clock shadow, his dirty-blond hair shaved at the sides and long at the top. Those intense blue eyes still made her knees weak.

  “Mom?”

  She gasped, pulled from her thoughts. June turned to face her son. “Yes?”

  “That man knew you. Who was he?”

  “Just an old friend, sweetheart.”

  He tilted his head to the side. “A boyfriend?”

  She shook her head. “Never you mind that,” she said, changing the subject. “I’m going to prepare dinner, so help me set the table. I have a lot to get done before work.”

  “You just got home from work.”

  June sighed, squatting down to Killian’s level. God, he looked like his father. She kept her emotions in check. “We’ve been through this. I need to work extra for a few months, but you won’t even notice I’m gone. Melissa will be here while you’re asleep, but I’ll be here when you wake up.” She kissed his forehead.

  “Don’t you need to sleep, Mom?”

  She winked. “Mommies don’t need sleep. We’re like superheroes.” June chuckled as she shuffled Killian off to do his chores. Tonight she’d make some macaroni and cheese. It would fill them up enough for the night.

  By the time Melissa showed up at her door, Killian was tucked into their bed. June hoped he’d stay there. In the past six months he’d tried to run away twice when he had a babysitter. She knew he was rebelling because her time with him was spread thin, and it pissed her off she couldn’t be there for him like she wanted.

  She got off the bus twenty minutes later, her feet already tired. At twenty-eight she felt more like sixty-eight. Her mind wanted to drift to fantasies of Killian, but she shoved them away, refusing to fall victim to his whims again. She still hadn’t gotten over the fact he could walk away from what she considered the love of a lifetime. But she really didn’t know him at all. He’d been so sweet and attentive, an arts student at the local college, and working part-time in a local hardware store—only he wasn’t.

  Shit, she was thinking about him and now her mood had soured before she even started her shift. It was bad enough she’d have to deal with all the filthy perverts as they drank too much and felt they had a right to touch or proposition her.

  After an hour on the floor, June was running around tending all the customers. The place was packed, which was good for tips but bad for potential problems. This place wasn’t exactly a 5-star lounge. It was a sketchy drinking hole for the worst of the worst. She’d only gotten the job because she was blessed in the bosom department, but she wasn’t going to turn down the second job when she desperately needed the money. June just did her best to mind her business and stay off the radar.

  “Hey, fun cheeks, give me a kiss, eh?” A man patted his lap, waiting for her to sit down.

  She leaned away from the bearded man. He was one of the higher ups in a local MC. That still didn’t mean she was on the menu. “Maybe you’ve had enough to drink?” she suggested.

  He scowled, grabbing her t-shirt and tugging her towards him. His friends stood around him, laughing. She was nothing, garbage, usable—and she wanted to cry. She wanted to be cuddled up to her son in their little apartment. She wanted more. But she was here, and she was powerless.

  “Let me go!” she said. “You have no right.” Her tears were so close to the surface, but she had to appear stronger than that.

  “I own this town,” he said, the scent of alcohol on his breath stinging her eyes.

  She shook her head, struggling. Her bastard boss didn’t even attempt to help her because he was terrified of the Dead Angels MC. They’d torn his bar up numerous times when he didn’t let them have their way.

  “I think the lady said to let her go.”

  They all turned to the voice. It was Killian. He was dressed in black, his hair slicked back from his face. There was no hint of fear or emotion in his eyes. As much as she was relieved to see him, he’d get himself killed standing up to these men.

  “And why the hell do you care, pretty boy?”

  “Because that’s my woman.”

  There were gasps and chuckles in the bar. Killian hadn’t moved an inch, even as the gang member started to circle him.

  “Killian, just go. I don’t want you to get hurt,” said June. She tried to hate him, but she’d always love him.

  He smiled, curling a finger motioning her to come. “I want you to wait for me outside, baby.”

  “I’m on shift until three,” she said.

  “No, I promise, you’re done working at this shithole. Now wait outside.” His tone left no room for argument. She reluctantly walked toward the entrance, turning back the entire time. If she had a cell phone, she’d call the cops.

  “You put your hands on her,” said Killian. “That was your first fucking mistake.”

  “Really, what’re you gonna do about it, pretty boy?”

  He cracked his head to each side, then his knuckles. “I’m going to fuck you up.”

  Killian moved so fast, she almost missed it. With one short straight punch to the face, the bearded man fell off his stool to the floor, out cold. Killian moved like a professional boxer, ducking away from every blow and delivering devastating punches to the other men, one at a time. They dropped like flies, and June couldn’t believe her eyes.

  When one of the men pulled out a handgun, she froze, too scared to move or scream in warning.

  The old bastard chuckled, aiming at Killian. “Not so tough now are you, blondie?”

  “You call that a fucking gun? No, these are guns.” Killian reached both arms behind him, and returned with a gun in each hand, pointing at two different men.

  “Do you know who we are?”

  Killian scoffed. “You’re assholes who messed with the wrong woman.” Then he fired, the sound impossibly loud. June slapped her hands over her ears and squatted down. She closed her eyes, listening to gunshots ring out. When silence finally settled, she peeked open her eyes. Killian was the only one standing. He holstered those two guns and then casually pulled out his wallet. He slapped a wad of cash on the bar. “To help with the damage, not that you deserve it for letting lowlifes like these in here.”

  He approached her, and she wasn’t sure if she should be scared or not. She didn’t know this new Killian at all.

  “You killed them,” she whispered.

  “No, they’re all alive and well. Each with a reminder not to fuck with me.” He took her hand and left the bar. “Trust me, he’s lucky. I wanted to put a bullet right between that piece of shit’s eyes.”

  Once they were on the street, walking away from the bar, reality rained down on her, painful and harsh. “My job. I lost my job because of you.”

  He scowled down at her, no other expression on his face. “Is that how little you think of yourself, June? You think it’s okay to let scum like that have their way with you?”

  “I have no choice!”


  “Do you sell yourself, too?”

  Rage built up inside her so strong that she started to beat on his chest with the little strength she had left. All these years, she’d had opportunities to sell her body or give one of those monsters a lap dance, but she’d always refused. There were some lines she refused to cross. “You bastard! I hate you!”

  “Whoa there.” He easily subdued her, holding her wrists against his chest.

  “Why don’t you kill me, too?”

  He exhaled in a growl, then hoisted her up into his arms. How had he gotten so strong? She was no lightweight. June wanted to struggle, but she was so spent, so weary of life. For once it would be so nice to have someone to lean on.

  “My job,” she muttered.

  “Get over it, baby. You’re never setting foot in that place again. Things are going to change around here, starting with this hate you have for me.”

  They got to a car, and he set her down on her feet. It was a silver Porsche with chrome rims that shone under the streetlights. She didn’t know much about cars, but recognized the logo.

  “Is this your car?”

  He pulled out his key fob and clicked open the door with one push. “I’m taking you to my hotel room. It’s sketchy as fuck, but it’s the best I could find in this town.”

  “I need to go home. Killian needs me.”

  “No, little Killian’s fast asleep, or he better be. Right now, we have some unfinished business to deal with. I never should have left you, but I’m back, and I’m not leaving.” He cupped the back of her neck and leaned down. “You’re mine.”

  Then he kissed her.

  Chapter Three

  For a few precious seconds, June allowed herself to be transported back ten years ago, where life was simple. There were times she missed her old life—the dreams she’d had, the fantasies. Every second she had been with Killian ten years ago, she felt like she’d found her soul mate. It had all been a lie. Nothing had been true, so she pulled away from the kiss, shoving him hard in the process.

  “I’m going home, and I’m going to figure out the mess that you’ve gotten me into. I don’t know who you are.” Before she even made it a couple of steps, he grabbed her arms and hauled her into his car. Within seconds he had her strapped in and the car door locked. When she pulled on the handle, it wouldn’t budge. The child lock had been put on. Her day was going from bad to worse. “Let me go.”