Stone Cold Queen (Sick Boys #2) - Lucy Smoke Page 0,2

don’t they? What does it matter who does the killing? And why does it have to be me?

“A man finds it easier to kill when he relies on his emotions—anger, spite, sorrow. They're crutches." I frown, not quite sure what he means. "Emotions keep you human. They ground you." He tips the glass until the liquid is precariously close to spilling over the rim. My eyes widen, and they flick between where his hand is to his face. "But if you let them spill over..."

A single droplet falls and hits the carpet, a spot of brown against white. I resist the urge to jump up and stop him from spilling the rest. I don't know why. It's just automatic—everything is so white in his office, perfectly pristine. Nothing out of place. Except for that one spot. I hate seeing it ruined, stained. It makes the back of my neck itch.

My father lifts his head and watches me as he turns the glass and lets the rest pour out onto the floor until it's soaking the ground at his feet. "If you let your emotions—the ties that bind you to your desires and whims—control you," he continues as he finishes pouring. "Then you become attached. When you become attached, you become vulnerable. Emotions help, but they can hinder as well. Remember, you control your emotions and attachments. Never let them control you."

"What about Brax and Abel?" I can't help it. Especially during moments like these when he thinks he's imparting some life lesson—always after he's been away for a long while and comes home smelling like cigars and exhaustion—he hates it when I interrupt him. I can't shake the feeling that he's lost something, and he's warning me to not get too close, so I don't lose it as well. What it is, however, I know he'll never say.

Attachments, though, things I care about … I don't have many. I can live without the video games or even my mom—it's not like she's all there anyway. But Braxton and Abel? They're what I can't live without. They're my brothers.

My father sets the now empty glass down on the edge of the counter beneath the liquor cabinet and steps over the wet stain beneath his impeccable business shoes. He watches me, and I press my back into the chair the closer he comes without saying anything. He crouches in front of me and stares at me hard, as if he's trying to see into my head, maybe even into my future.

"Anchors," he answers quietly.

"Anchors?" I repeat, confused.

He nods. "It's good to have anchors," he tells me, his hands hanging over his thighs. "Like posts in a fence to keep the structure up." He reaches up, and for a brief moment, I think he's going to touch me. I bite down on my tongue and hold completely still. I don't want him to, I think. I don't know why, but something tells me if he touches me, I'll become just like the carpet—stained and soiled.

It doesn't happen. Instead, he lets his hand drop as he stands back up to his full height. "Regardless of having those anchors," he says, looking away as someone knocks on the door to his office, "you must always make sure to have your own strength. You must be able to stand on your own. Without them. And you must always, always, ensure that they never rot."

"Rot?"

Nicholas Carter looks back at me as he heads for the door to his office, and just before he pulls it open, he says in a voice so low that I almost don't catch it. "Yes," he says. "If you let your anchors start to rot, they become weak, and only one thing happens to the weak in this world." His head lifts, and eyes the same color as mine meet my gaze. "The weak are destroyed."

2

Avalon

Present Day…

Blood coats the front row of my teeth, coppery and tangy in taste. I bare my teeth as I lean over and spit out a wad of saliva mixed with it. There’s enough that it comes out red. The bones in my hands hurt. Hell, the bones in my legs are starting to get sore too. The muscles in my face ache from too many hits. Unfortunately for my opponent, though, I can't say I'm satisfied yet.

We circle each other, like two starving hyenas. Yet, there's no prize for me except what the fight brings. She's doing this for the money, and I'm doing this so