Deviant King: A Dark New Adult Romance (Royal Elite Book 1)

Deviant King: Chapter 33



For the rest of the day, I try to pretend that Aiden and Silver don’t exist.

But the thing about pretending? It’s all about putting a cool mask on the outside and burning on the inside.

Every time I see Silver’s arm draped around Aiden’s, I itch to break it. I want to pound her face into the floor until she no longer breathes.

That’s another scary thought.

I’ve been having too many scary thoughts lately. I’m probably backpedalling. To what. I don’t know. I’m not even supposed to think I’m backpedalling. That would mean I admit having a worse state of mind and I’m rearing back to that.

I really need to see Dr Khan.

With heavy feet, I head to the pitch. I’m really not in the mood to share a practice space with Aiden.

I contemplated cutting school, but that would mean I’m running away.

And after the washroom episode, I promised myself to never cry or run away anymore.

My gaze strays to the pitch where some of the football team players are stretching. Aiden stands at the sideline talking to Silver. It’s like he’s honey and she’s a bee. She wouldn’t stop hanging off his arm like a parasite.

But is she a parasite if he keeps smiling at her like that?

If he keeps flirting with her?

He wreaks everything in his path with a smile on his face. Including my heart.

I want to play tough, to think I’ll wake up tomorrow and he’ll be in the past. But I’d only be fooling myself.

So I hide in the corner like a creep, having a pity party with myself. We still have fifteen minutes until practice. I already changed into my track clothes, but I’m dreading going down there. I don’t even have Kim to keep me company.

Screw Aiden and his barbie doll. I won’t run away.

The moment I straighten myself, I notice a shadow lurking in the back. I startle with a small gasp.

Cole sits under a plum tree, reading a book — Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre.

My cheeks tint with red at the thought that he’s seen me act like a coward for the past five minutes.

He’s dressed in Elites’ jersey and shorts. His hair is slightly wet as if he ran it under a faucet.

Aside from Aiden, Cole has always been the most mysterious. He’s not talkative at all. I can count the number of times I heard his voice. He’s usually the audience of Ronan’s animated speeches and the most adult-like out of the four horsemen. That’s probably why he’s Elites’ captain.

Cole never showed me malice or interest. He just exists as if passing through the school is a breeze in his life.

He’s popular, but he’s not a manwhore like Xander and Ronan. He’s just… serene.

Now that I study him closely, he’s quite handsome with long chestnut hair and dark green eyes like the forest after the rain. If I weren’t so biased, I’d say he’s even more good-looking than Aiden. His beauty is calm compared to Aiden’s dangerous one.

He throws me a glance over his book. I can’t help but smile at the image. He’s reading Jean-Paul Sartre while he’s in his football uniform.

“Is my book funny?” he asks with no maliciousness.

“I never thought athletes were interested in existentialism theories.”

He raises a thick eyebrow. “Aren’t you an athlete, too?”

Touché. I should’ve said football players.”

“Because we’re so dumb?” There’s still no threat in his tone. If anything, it’s filled with mild curiosity.

“I didn’t mean that.” My cheeks tint. I don’t want to come off judgemental.

“Well, we can be.” He points at his book. “So what do you think about existentialism?”

I’m taken aback. He didn’t ask what I know about it, but what I think about it. So he’s sure I read about it. But then again, I wouldn’t have associated Nausea and Sartre to existentialism if I didn’t at least know something about it.

“Hmm.” I lean back against the stone wall. “I believe it’s a negative and a nihilistic philosophy.”

His posture quirks up as if he’s a kid given his favourite toy. “So you don’t believe that existence precedes essence?”

“Not per se. It can be true to some extent, but the whole theory is hyper-individualist. A person isn’t an entity that can’t be touched or manipulated.” I tip my chin.

Challenge that, mister. Your ace striker is a class one manipulator.

Cole seems smart. Probably to Aiden’s level of high intelligence, but like Aiden, he doesn’t show it.

I can bet money that he knows about Aiden’s true character. I suspect Xander knows, too.

They couldn’t possibly have known Aiden for all these years and not detect that something is wrong.

His brow quirks as he closes the book and lets it fall to his lap. “What if the person’s lack of existentialism causes them to be a target of manipulation?”

I approach him and sit beside him on the grass. “Then do you believe those who manipulate have a sense of essence?”

He gives an easy smile. “Perhaps they suffer from an existential crisis, too.”

“In that case, and according to the theory, people who manipulate can be manipulated. It’s an endless circle.”

“It is.” He shakes the book in front of me. “You read this, yes?”

I nod, but I don’t mention that the main character, Antoine, bored me with his existential crisis. He seemed very psychologically unwell and needed some psychotherapy. It doesn’t help that I was never a fan of Jean-Paul Sartre’s theory.

“Have you ever thought why Antoine Roquentin kept questioning his existence?” Cole asks.

“Because he’s an existentialism freak and a self-insertion from Sartre.”

He chuckles, the sound easy. “That’s one way to look at it, but maybe you should read it again and search for some hidden clues.”

Before I can say anything, he drops the book in my lap. “Aiden gave it to me, so keep it in good shape.”

Aiden gave it to him? I never thought he’d be interested in philosophy, let alone existentialist theories.

Cole and I spend the next fifteen minutes discussing Sartre’s work and some of his philosopher contemporaries. It’s a heated conversation since Cole and I disagree on almost everything, but it manages to keep my head off what’s happening at the pitch.

We switch to music, and I laugh when Cole says that he likes Coldplay. “At least we agree on that.”

“At least your taste in music is better than your taste in philosophy.”

“Hey!” I bump my shoulder against his.

Smiling, he hops to his feet and offers me his hand. “Come on. It’s time for me to practice like a dumb athlete.”

“You hold a grudge, don’t you?” I take his hand.

“Me? Never.”

“Try again, Captain.”

He chuckles and so do I. The sound drifts in the secluded area around us. If I knew Cole would be such a good sport, I would’ve befriended him earlier.

Or not.

Cole belongs to Aiden’s small circle and I never looked twice at them before.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Aiden stands near the brick wall I was leaning against earlier, arms crossed over his chest.

My heart skips a beat, no matter how much I hate it.

But that’s the thing about hearts, isn’t it? They can’t help beating despite the pain.

I look around him, expecting to find Silver hanging off his arm like some puppet.

She’s not here.

Aiden’s eyes narrow on where I’m clutching Cole’s hand. If looks could kill, we would be on fire now.

I should let Cole go and ignore Aiden, but screw him. He had the bitch queen hang off his arm all day. What right does he have to glare at me as if I’m doing the wrong thing?

“Yes, you are, actually,” I say in a light tone. “Cole and I were having a good time until you showed up.”

Cole raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t say anything. In fact, his lips quirk in amusement.

“Let her go, Nash,” Aiden grinds out, his breathing turning harsher.

I grip Cole’s hand tighter. He doesn’t attempt to leave, either way.

“Elsa…” Aiden’s voice drifts in clear menace. “Let go of that hand or — ”

“Or what? What will you do now? Make me watch while you fuck Silver?” Shut up, damn you. I’m giving him ideas.

Before he can reply, I lift my chin in false bravado. “I can do the same if you’re into voyeurism.”

Aiden is in my face in a split second. I flinch back as my heartbeat picks up speed. Aiden looms over me like doom and glares down at me with flaring nostrils that might as well breathe fire.

In my stupefaction, I don’t even realise that Cole has slipped his hand from mine.

“Don’t be late for practice, King. You need to make up for your mess last game.” Cole offers me a warm smile and disappears around the corner.

Aiden advances into me. I try to keep my ground, but it’s impossible with all the demons swirling in his eyes.

I gulp past the lump in my throat. With every step he takes forward, I step back.

My shoulder blades hit the tree, and I wince.

Aiden leans his forearm on the tree above my head, caging me in. “Are you done playing, sweetheart?”


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