Mr. King [Book 1]

Fourteen

Katherine held her breath as the elevator doors opened to Mr. King's private entrance into his penthouse, and let it out once she stepped into the large entryway. She doubted he was even home from the office yet, but she always got a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she came back to the apartment. Only because he made her nervous – but not necessarily in a bad way, just in a way where he made her stomach turn and her skin tingle just by being in his presence.

She unlocked the front door with her key and stepped inside, wiping the soles of her shoes on the rug because if she were to track dirt in the house, she was the one who was going to have to clean it.

"Where have you been?" Katherine heard Mr. King's low scolding voice, startling her. Her head immediately snapped up to find him standing between the kitchen and the living room looking at her sternly.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she froze, staring wide-eyed at him. She was so confused. Why was he so angry? Surely she could have an afternoon to herself every once in a while. She furrowed her eyes, watching Mr. King as he walked quickly around the couch. She had no idea what he was going to do or say, so she cowered back slightly as he made his way toward her.

"Answer me," he demanded, but sounded less intimidating, because his voice took on a worried quality.

"I-I had a doctor's appointment. I told you I would be out this afternoon," Katherine stammered, her mouth going dry as he stared her down.

"I got a call for you while you were gone," he said sharply, and her cheeks heated up, knowing he probably wouldn't like her receiving personal calls at his home.

"I-I'm sorry," she apologized quietly as her eyes fell to the floor.

"Katherine..." Her name fell from his tongue with an air of offense, causing her to look up into his wondering eyes.

"I'm not scolding you. Please do not think that," he said softly, his facial features evening out. She took in a ragged breath and let it out.

"It's your father," Mr. King continued.

"My father?" Katherine choked out, her mouth falling open in disbelief.

"He's in the hospital," he went on.

"The hospital?" She repeated, emphasizing the words.

"He's alright, but..." Mr. King said, cutting off his sentence as he pursed his lips together.

"But, what?" She nearly growled, knowing her father was usually up to no good.

"He was drinking... and driving," he informed her.

"Oh my god," she breathed, her hand coming up to press against her forehead as all the nerves in her body started working overtime.

Katherine's father was a no-good drunk who never seemed to get his life back together after her mother died. He drank himself into a coma nearly every night afterward, and said and did horrible things to her and everyone around him when he was drunk. He was a dead-beat, but at the end of the day he was still her father.

"How bad is it?" She asked quietly, knowing it wouldn't be good.

"I didn't get many details, but it sounds like he is under police supervision while he is in the emergency room getting checked out," Mr. King answered swiftly.

"Jesus Christ," Katherine growled under her breath.

"They rang not long ago. I'm sure he's still there," he informed her, and her eyes shot up to his.

They locked gazes for a few weighted moments as her brain rushed in circles, trying to put everything into perspective.

"I have to go," she told him moments before she turned on her heels and headed back toward the door.