FINDING MY LOYAL KING

FINDING MY LOYAL KING - Book 15 of the Crown Collection/book 1 of the Loyal Series. Romance - Drama - Erotic - Suspense. Novel by D.COLEMAN - 2017

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While lying in my bed, I notice how quiet it is outside. It’s so calm. It’s not deathly quiet, I just don’t hear the birds or the rustling of the leaves outside my window. I don’t hear the sheep I grew up with at my parents’ home. It’s just nothing.

About the Sheep, I don’t hear them because I don’t live with my parents anymore. Their place is surrounded by fields and sheep. It’s beautiful, but a nightmare to get to. Hell, especially when you’re out on the town with no car. Dad would go nuts whenever I’d call him up to come and get me. So yeah, I’m all grown up now with a place of my own. Granted, it’s still close to my parents’ place. Hey, I’ve got to get my Sunday roast from somewhere. Besides, Mum sorts my laundry too: a total bonus. My Dad says I should pay for her services, and I do offer. I tell her I’ll pay all the time, but they know I don’t get paid a lot, so she does it out of the goodness of her heart. (Her words, not mine.)

I’m a single twenty-three-year-old woman, living on my own. While her parents still look after her. As for my brother, Kaiden. He’s off living the high life with his wife, Oriana. She was Henderson-Lawrence before, but now she’s Vincente. Of course, I say “high life” only because they’re truly living it. Trust me, that woman has a lot of money. Don’t get me wrong, he’s got money too. He builds bikes for a living. Alex, Oriana’s stepdad, is his boss. Ori owns a gym and a great modelling agency. It’s mostly tattoo models, but they’re freaking amazing. And yes, I may have tried that out myself at one point. However, I wasn’t cut out for it. Seriously, the camera would point at me, and I’d startle every time and end up looking like I’ve shit my pants. They got a few decent body shots, but I wasn’t good at looking into the camera. It’s safe to say, I don’t take after my dad in that department. As some of you know, he used to model. Damn good at it too. I bet Mum would’ve been amazing at it in her younger days. She’s got that fifty-classic rock-chick look going on. Not to mention all the tattoos on her body to go with it, everybody says I look like her. Only, I think it’s just the hair. I have long blonde hair, and it’s quite thick. It’s kinda Barbie-style when I curl the ends. Usually, I just tie it up, but when I’m out on the town, I let it down. I have my dad’s nose and smile, and my mum’s shaped face. So you could say I’m kinda a mix of the two. I’ve got my dad’s height, which is a pain in my ass. Sure, it’s great for grabbing things from high shelves, but it's a total nightmare buying nice clothes. I mostly dress in skinny jeans and a T-shirt. Nine times out of ten, I’m covered with my grey work hoodie. I’ve got a little shoe fetish too. It’s probably why I’m broke all the time. I buy a lot. Though, Mum thinks it’s great. She loves the majority of the ones I get. Yet my Dad goes nuts. Said I need to sort myself out and stop wasting money on things I don’t need.

I hear what he’s saying, and I understand it too. But I can’t help it, I must have them.

Oh, I almost forgot, I also live with my baby. No, I don’t mean my “human baby,” he’s my bulldog, Rolo. He’s the descendant of Vinny, who belonged to my parents’ best friends, Dean and Shell. Well, he and his little girlfriend had pups. (The dogs, not Shell and Dean) So, my parents claimed a girl and eventually, Dad wanted another. They adopted one from our local Kennels. Which, by the way, is where I work. Well, I volunteer on the weekends when I’m not busy. I visit during the week too, but that’s only if I don’t have any clients at my mother’s studio. No, I don’t ink. God no, I don’t have those types of skills. I’m a Body-Piercer. Basically, I stab people for a living, blinging them up with fancy metal wear.

I only have a handful of piercings myself. Well, one’s you can see anyway. I have three piercings in each ear, and my tongue is pierced. The ones I’ve got hidden - Nobody knows about. I mean, could you imagine my parents’ faces if I told them I’d pierced my nipples and belly button? They’d no doubt have a fit. Seriously, they hate the tongue piercing. So, you can imagine how they’ll react. Granted, my Dad’s had his nipples pierced. But apparently, he can pull it off. I called him out and told him, “That’s pretty sexist.” He responded by telling me in his overbearing papa ways, “I’m not sexist. I’m papa-smart. No way do I want my little girl looking like something from the Rocky Horror show. You’re too pretty to cover yourself up in metal.”

Oh, he doesn’t know half of it. He doesn’t know about my tattoos either. Well, he knows about my arms. I can’t hide them all the time. But he doesn’t know about the rest. He’d lock me up for sure if he knew. Yes, he’s covered in ink, but I’m his little girl, and he wants me to stay that way. It drives me crazy at times, but I know it’s because he cares - even if it is too much. Besides, I still get my cuddles, so I don’t mind it too much. It’s mostly when he says what I should and shouldn’t be doing with my life that pisses me off.

At first, he was against my working at the studio. Said body-piercing isn’t a high-paying career. He wants better for me. That’s fine and all, but this is something I love doing. Why can’t he just be happy for me? He’s doing what he loves, so why can’t I? I don’t know. I’ll never understand his reasoning for it. Yet even though he doesn’t agree with it, I still do it. He knows he can’t stop me because I’ll fight him on it. That’s thanks to my mum. I’ve inherited her feisty attitude. Only, I’m a little calmer. My “attitude” only appears when I’m at the boiling point. It takes a lot to make me explode, but I still don’t take any shit. To look at me, you’d think “butter wouldn’t melt.” I kind of resemble Barbie, but with a little secret edge that only comes out at night. Mostly when I’m out on the town with my friends or if I’m at home with my Rolo.

So, I guess you’re wondering who did my tattoos. Well, it was my Mum, but most were Cookie. Seriously, that man can ink. My Dad refuses to ink me at all, which I’m kinda sad about. He’s amazing, and I’d love to have one of his works inked on me. But sadly, the stubborn fool won’t budge. Besides, it’s probably for the best since I’ve got more than he knows about. I’d ask Dean, but we all know he’d see my Dad about it first. We can’t have that, so I stay out of his studio.

Anyway, I can’t get back to sleep, so when I look at my alarm clock, I see it’s a little after four in the morning.

“Typical.”

This pattern happens a lot lately. I’ve no clue why. It’s like, as I get older, my mind denies me any rest. It’s pointless to even attempt to fall back to sleep, so I get up instead. Mum says when you’re awake at certain times during the night, it’s spirits trying to get your attention. Christ, that’s all I need - more reasons not to sleep.

When I reach my kitchen, I make myself a coffee. Yeah, I know, it’s likely the coffee keeping me on high alert. But, it’s just so nice. (The coffee, not the lack of sleep)

Rolo finally made an appearance, wagging his little stump of a tail, looking pleased to see me. Seeing him made me smile.

“Hey, boy, you couldn’t sleep either, huh? Yeah, that makes two of us. Are you hungry? You wanna share my bacon?” He answered with a snort of a bark, obviously still tired, but ready to eat.

“Okay, we’ll have our breakfast, and then we’ll go run those calories off once I’ve dressed. We’ll pop into the kennels and see how our little buddy’s doing. How’s that sound? Or maybe we’ll just skip the run and walk there.”

He grunts again, and I know it might sound crazy, but we’re kinda in sync. Heck, especially when we’re too tired to do something.

“Yeah, I’m not up for running either. Not this time in the morning anyway. I’m nuts, but I’m not crazy-nuts.”

After preparing our breakfast and making my coffee, I move towards my bathroom. I hit the shower and brushed my teeth. Once dried and dressed, I grabbed my purse and jacket. As well as Rollo’s leader. Well, not that he needs it. He follows me everywhere I go anyway. It’s just in case other dogs are around. He can get a little boisterous, especially with the ladies.

“Come on, boy, let’s walk.”

Once again, he responds with his usual snorty grunt of a bark. My ever-faithful companion is always eager to follow me.

“Ah, Rolo. If only all boys were like you. It’s why I prefer living with you; you’re so much simpler to live with. All I need to do is feed you and take you for walks, and I know I have a friend for life.”