Page 103 of King of Hollywood
I hated regrets.
They ached, and they hurt. And they made me feel tiny and helpless. All of sixteen, standing in an alley behind a bar where I’d found my sister’s body. I’d known she was having a tough time at school. But I’d been powerless to help. I hadn’t expected her to get cornered like this—on her way home. Perhaps she’d stopped inside for a glass of water? Her friend’s father owned the bar after all.
I’d never know.
I’d never know because she was dead—and gone—and I couldn’t ask her.
I had always been a man of action.
It comforted me when the ground turned to quicksand and my stomach filled with acid.
This wasn’t like before. I wasn’t helpless. I wasn’t young.
I knew exactly what to do.
And I did that now, falling into my usual pattern as I slipped quietly toward the archway that led to the living room. I could hear the voices behind it. They were quiet, soft. Not…amorous? But that didn’t mean anything. Felix had said he had “friends” and I…was realizing just how little I wanted him to interact with anyone aside from me.
Possessive, yes.
Toxic, yes.
But, I had never claimed to be a good person. I never claimed to be anything other than what I was. I was a no good, selfish, very bad man.
And I needed to tell Felix what he meant to me. What I wanted from him. That he was special, that he was my forever—for however long that lasted. Because he felt right inside my arms. Because he smelled like lemons. Because his pointy, slightly crooked teeth and his crinkly little scrunched-up freckle-covered nose had made me fall in love. Because he made me happy.
Because my monster ached for him.
Because he needed me.
Because I needed him.
I never wanted to let him go again.
But first…
First, I was going to kill the man who had taken his attention. I was going to stop this cycle from continuing. I was going to snap his neck and end this game, once and for all. With my secret laid bare for Felix to see, he’d get the choice to keep me, or kill me.
And I’d let him pick.
Because I loved him more than I loved anything, even myself.
Felix’s guest had his back to me when I rounded the corner. He was talking, the guest, not Felix. And it was obvious that Felix wasn’t really listening.
“I’ve always been a big fan of your movies,” the stranger said, rambling on. His…movies? I glanced at the movie posters that lined the walls, scanning them—my head still fuzzy with rage. “I can’t believe I got to actually meet you.”
They looked as familiar as they had the first few times I’d seen them, only now…I looked at them with a different lens.
Felix nodded along to his guest’s words, but his eyes weren’t connected to the conversation. I knew this because I was rather intimately acquainted with any and all Felix expressions, and I could proudly say—despite my usual lack of expertise in human emotion—that I could easily deduce his current emotion. And he looked…huh.
He looked like he was in a hurry.
He did not look excited, or happy, or invested in the conversation at all. Which was good. Because the only person he should be invested in talking to was me, and I stood by that.
He probably felt rushed because he was expecting me to come over soon for our matching-tuxedo-fake-groom social debut.
There was a lump in my throat and a pit in my stomach as I stared at the two of them interacting, even though I could clearly see that Felix was not invested.
“Quiet please,” he said softly, voice as melodic and sweet as ever. There was an air of finality to it. Strong despite being buttery smooth. My racing thoughts halted at the same time the asshole-visitor’s words did. Simultaneously, something electric flowed through the room. Something heavy. For a moment it was hard to breathe. The stranger shifted, body still as if he’d been frozen.
