by Piper Rayne
“Adrian,” she says.
I haven’t heard that tone since she had to call me at college and tell me my dog died. Not even when she told me she found a half-naked woman on my dad’s desk.
I sit up straighter in the backseat. “What?”
“I swear I didn’t know. I know I’ve been giving you hell—”
My adrenaline goes into overdrive and I feel my blood pressure spike. “What is it?”
“Mom and Dad. They talked to Sierra while you were gone, and she left.”
“Like, left the grounds for fresh air?”
“She’s at the airport boarding our jet. She’s going home.”
All the air leaves my lungs. “What the hell did they say to her?”
She’s silent for a moment. “If you want this to work, you need to look at what’s being said in the press. There’s a new article. It talks about her mom.”
I pull my phone from my ear and hang up to scan the worst of the headlines, and sure enough, one features a picture of her mom in Iraq, standing in the middle of a group of guys, a couple with their arms around her. Although it’s clear to anyone with a brain that the picture is one of comradery, the press has twisted it to imply that her mom couldn’t possibly give birth to someone deserving of the title of queen.
“Those assholes!” I throw my phone across the seat. “Clyde, go to the airport.”
“I’m sorry, sir, I’ve been instructed to take you to the palace only.”
“Fuck the palace.”
We pull up at the palace while I’m still arguing with Clyde to turn around and head to the airport.
I climb out and rush to the driver’s side. “Give me the keys.”
Maybe we shouldn’t have fired Declan. He probably would’ve driven me to the airport.
“Come inside, Adrian,” my dad says from the front door.
“Fuck off,” I say.
He distracted me, and now Clyde has gotten far enough away that I can’t get the keys from him without taking him to the ground.
I run into the house and up the stairs to my room, my father following me. “She’s gone, son, and it’s for the best.”
Opening the drawers in my room, I scramble to find the keys to my motorcycle. I haven’t ridden it since I laid it down on the pavement last year, but it’s my only option at this point. My father has likely instructed the staff to keep me from all the vehicles.
Once I find the keys, I run back down the stairs. Felicia and my mom are standing in the foyer with my dad.
“How could you?” I say to my mother.
My dad puts his hand on my chest. “She’s gone. The plane has taken off.”
“Then I’ll get on another. How could you do this to me? What kind of parents are you?” I remove my dad’s hand from my chest. “You made your bed. I’m out of your life.” I run to the door.
“Do you really think you’re going to survive on an hourly wage at a bagel shop?” my father asks.
My feet skid to a stop and I turn around. “I’d rather do that than be tied to you.”
“The shine will wear off your situation eventually. You’ll never last,” my father says.
“You’re a son of a bitch, you know that?” I step forward. “It amazes me that you can even act the way you do after what you did to Mom. How low must you be to have an affair in your own home? You tell the people how noble of a ruler you are, how honest and caring, but you cheat on your wife and you force your son into a life he doesn’t want. You ruin his future with the one woman he loves. You’re no king. You’re weak. You try to keep everyone around you down.”
My dad’s hand clenches, and I don’t have enough time to duck before he punches me in the face. I falter back.
“Stop!” my mom yells. “Just stop.” A tear falls down her cheek. “I can’t take this anymore. This house is so angry.”
Felicia’s back is against the wall, and for the first time, I realize what she’s been dealing with by staying here. How strong she is for seeing it through and wanting what’s best for us all.
“Your father and I have an arrangement,” Mom says. I swear she’s looking at me as though she’s asking me to forgive her. I’ve never seen that look on her face before.
“What kind of arrangement?” I ask, holding my face where my father’s fist landed.
“Don’t, Lucy,” he says.
More tears fall from my mom’s eyes and she throws her arms to the side. “It’s over, David. It’s over.”
I look at Felicia as she bites her lip. Whatever my mom has to say, Felicia knows.
“Let’s go in the study,” Felicia says.
We all follow her, my dad shutting the door.
“What arrangement?” I ask again.
“Your father and I had an arranged marriage, as you know. We tried to find love between us, but it wasn’t there, so we agreed that it was okay to see others as long as we were both discreet.”
I fall into one of the chairs. All this time I’ve felt sorry for my mom and she wasn’t even surprised. Embarrassed maybe, but not surprised. She’s been having her own affairs over the years.
“We don’t expect you to understand, but it’s how a lot of couples in our position get by. When Felicia found your dad, we talked and figured it wouldn’t be the end of the world if we got divorced. You’re twenty-nine now, more than old enough to take over. Your father was nineteen when Granddad died.” She places her hand on my knee.
“Why would you want me to live that way? The same way you two did? Why wouldn’t you change it?”
My mom looks at my dad as he sits in the chair across from me. “It’s the way it is. We looked hard at a lot of princesses, and we truly believed there was potential for you and Adelaide to fall in love. Your mother and I were thrown together without a lot of research or background because of the rush after my dad died.”
Felicia sits on the chair next to me, not seeming at all surprised by anything they’re saying.
“Then you went to New York City and found Sierra.” My mom lowers her head.
I snap out of the trance my parents’ admissions have put me in. Sierra. I need to get to her. I stand, and my mom’s hand falls off my knee.
“Darling, it’s an easier road if you marry Princess Adelaide. Even if you choose not to rule, Sierra will always struggle to fit in here. Don’t you see that?”
I stand behind the chair, gripping the back of it, willing my mother to really hear my next words. “I love her, Mom. I love her.”
My mom looks at my dad, resigned, and turns back to me. “Then go get her.”
“But, son?” My dad stops me before I can leave. “We still have the issue of you becoming king. Your mother and I are still divorcing.”
I look at Felicia, who has sat quietly as she was taught by my mother. “You have a queen, Dad, you don’t need a king. Abolish the male succession rule and allow Felicia to rule. It’s time. There’s no reason a woman shouldn’t inherit the throne.”
My dad’s head whips in Felicia’s direction. “You’d want to rule?”
“Really?” my mom asks.
Felicia nods and gives me a sweet smile. “I love Sandsal and I love what we do. I have my business degree and master’s in business.” She continues to list her qualifications. More qualifications than I hold.
I walk out of the study, gripping my motorcycle keys.
“Adrian,” my mom says, coming after me.
I stop at the door, circling to face her.
“I’m sorry. For everything. I was being selfish. When you arrived, Sierra overheard your father and I talking about our indiscretions. I feared she’d out us, so I tried to get her out before she told you or Felicia. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but I don’t want you to have the same life I did. I have no idea what it feels like to love someone but watching the two of you these past few days has made me yearn for it. I never had a lot of examples of love in my life.”
I lean forward and kiss her cheek.
&n
bsp; “Go get her and bring her back here so we can welcome her the right way.” She squeezes my hand. “I love you, son.”
“I love you.” I hug my mother. Her soft cries tell me she means what she’s saying. “I gotta go.”
She pulls back from our embrace. “Yes.” She wipes her eyes. “Go.”
I run out of the house and into the garage to race to the airport.
I arrive in New York in the middle of the night and pay a taxi driver extra to get me to Cliffton Heights. The city is dark and desolate as I barrel into the Rooftop Apartments, the ding of the elevator sounding like a fire alarm ripping through the dead quiet.
I tiptoe through the darkness to Sierra’s bedroom door. It creaks open, and I see her in bed, curled on her left side like always. After slipping off my shoes, I crawl into bed and slide my arm around her body, pulling her back into me.
She swings an elbow and nails me in the stomach. I cough and wheeze for breath as she screams, turning around to nail me in the groin. I try to get out of the bed, but the sheet trips me up and I fall on my ass. The door swings open and the light turns on, practically blinding me while I roll around on the floor in pain.
“Are you okay?” Rian asks, looking at the woman before finding me on the floor. “Adrian?”
Once my nuts don’t feel like they’re in my throat I look at the woman I was in bed with. A woman who isn’t Sierra. She’s the exact opposite of Sierra, in fact. Dark hair pulled up in a bun, dark skin peeking out from under her tattoos.
“You know this guy?” She points at me.
Rian comes to help me up. “Yeah, he’s my roommate’s boyfriend. What are you doing here?”
A whimpering sound comes from the other room.
“Is that Sierra?” I move to go to the third bedroom.
“If you like your balls, you won’t go near that door,” the woman says.
I look at Rian as she says, “That’s not Sierra. This is Frankie. She works at Ink Envy. Her daughter is in the other room. They needed somewhere to stay.”
“Where’s Sierra?”
Rian looks at me and shakes her head as if she’s clearing it. “I thought she was with you in Sandsal?”
I run my hand through my hair. “Where the hell is she then?”
My dad said the plane landed, that she refused a car and took a taxi. If she didn’t come here, where did she go?
“Adrian?” Rian asks. “What’s going on?”
I run out of the room and bang on Ethan and Blanca’s door.
Ethan opens the door, naked. “What the hell?”
Blanca laughs and throws him a pair of pants. Her laughter stops when she sees me in the doorway. “Adrian?”
“Is she here?” I ask.
“Who? Sierra?” she asks.
Ethan looks at Blanca. “Why would she be here?”
“He just showed up here frantic, looking for her.” Rian appears out of nowhere.
I leave them and pound on the guys’ apartment door.
“OMG, you’re engaged!” Rian screams from behind me. I turn and see her hugging Blanca.
Great for them. I don’t really give a shit right now.
Knox comes from the stairs in his police uniform with Leilani at his side. “Why are you all in danger of having a noise violation?”
“Can you let me know if Sierra is in your apartment?”
He looks down the hall to where Rian is still hugging Ethan and Blanca. Once Knox opens his apartment door, I barrel past him and flick on the lights. Opening the first bedroom door, I turn the light switch to find Dylan alone in bed. Then to Seth’s room. He’s also alone in bed.
“What the hell? I feel like when I was in college and my fraternity kidnapped me in the middle of the night.” Seth gets up as Dylan comes out of his room.
“Sierra ran. She left Sandsal and now she’s not here.” My ass falls onto their couch. “Where would she have gone?” My head falls into my hands.
There’s no way I lost her already. I won’t allow it. I can’t live without her.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sierra
A hand nudges my arm and I roll over, almost falling off the bed.
“Whoa, sweetie,” my dad says. “Don’t fall off.” He laughs. I sometimes forget he laughs now. “To what do I owe this visit?”
I sit up in my bed, rubbing my eyes. “Sorry.”
He sits at the bottom of my bed, a coffee in his hands. “This is your home. You never have to be sorry for coming. I just wish I didn’t find out by finding your suitcase downstairs when I woke up.” He smiles at me.
“Where’s Fae?”
“I asked her if she could give us some space this morning, so she went to the coffee shop.”
“I’m sorry.”
He laughs again, handing me the cup of coffee. “Stop apologizing. Do you want some breakfast?”
“Sure.”
He pats my leg that’s under the comforter. “Okay, I’ll go start it. Come on down. You’ve been dodging me, and we have a lot to talk about. But first I want to know why you’re sneaking home in the middle of the night.”
He leaves me in my room, closing the door. I see that my suitcase is now in the corner of my room. He’s so put together now, it’s hard to reconcile with the mess he was for so many years.
Getting dressed, I look at my dead phone. I was too lazy to search for a charger last night, but since only Adrian would be calling, I keep it off and go downstairs.
I smell the bacon halfway down the stairs. A memory flashes through my mind of coming down on Monday mornings after my mom returned from her weekend duties. I always had to go to sleep before she came home, so on Mondays, I’d find her and Dad talking about the weekend, laughing about something someone did or something that happened. My dad would always be touching her and kissing her and vice versa. As though two days was too long for them to be apart.
My dad handled the bacon, saying my mom was too impatient and always burned it. His method of slow cooking it to perfection was the right way, according to him. My mom always made her fluffy pancakes because she said that my dad would mix the batter too long and make them too flat. She’d smother my plate in butter and syrup. Those Mondays were like a holiday.
“There you are,” my dad says, turning from the bacon and pouring me more coffee. “Give the bacon another three minutes.”
He puts a plate of pancakes on the table next to the butter and syrup, and my nose tickles. He turns his attention back to the bacon and I wipe the one lone tear that falls.
“I called you on your birthday. Fae and I wanted to take you to dinner.” He never turns around.
I fork a pancake, finding them dry and hard. I guess some things don’t change. “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy.”
He nods. “I called and texted you a few times after that as well.”
I sigh. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
“I know things with Fae must be hard for you, but she’s a part of my life. Do you think maybe you could try a little bit?”
He sets the bacon to dry on a paper towel next to the oven and turns off the burner.
“I’ve been trying.”
He smiles at me over his shoulder. “Try a tad harder?”
I nod, sipping my coffee. I really should. I now know what it feels like when the family you’re trying to win over doesn’t welcome you with open arms.
He brings over the plate of bacon and sets it on the table before starting on the eggs. His reasoning is that you can only concentrate on one thing at a time. If he does the eggs and bacon together, one of them won’t turn out well.
“I saw you were home while I was gone and took the boxes.” He eyes me as he cracks an egg.
I knew I’d gotten my journalistic investigation skills from my dad, so it shouldn’t surprise me he knows everything. But he also believes in space, whereas my mom hated giving anyone space. When they got into a fight, she’d want to settle it right then and there, while my dad would say later.
“Yeah, I came by. I was surprised to find the house for sale.”
“If you’d answer my calls, you would’ve known.”
“And what about all the repainting and pictures being stuffed in the basement?”
He stops cracking an egg when he hears the bitterness in my voice. “The realtor thought it would be best.”
“Not Fae?”
He gives me the stern dad look. The one I got when I talked back to my grandparents or didn’t say please and thank you to servers at restaurants. “Fae understands your mom is a part of my life. And you as well.”
I push away my plate. “Really? Because it seems to me you want to erase us from your shiny new life.”
He turns away from the burner and sits in the chair next to me. “Why would you think that?”
I pretend not to see the hurt in his eyes. “Look around, Dad, there’s no sign of our lives here anymore.”
He sighs. What possible response could he have? “You mean there’s no sign of your mother. Because if you look around, you’ll see pictures of your graduation, your baby picture, when you learned to ride your bike.”
“And not one of Mom? Where’s the one where she’s holding me right after I was born?” It’s in the storage locker of my apartment, that’s where it is.
“You might not understand this, but I can’t move on with Fae while living in the past. It isn’t fair to her to live here with all your mom’s things. To wake up and stare at her picture. It’s the reason we’re selling the house.”
“Fae made you do it?” Even I admit I sound like a pissed off teenager.
“No. I made the decision because I have to move on with my life. It doesn’t mean I love your mom any less. I think of her every day, but she’s not coming back. It’s been eighteen years, sweetie.” His hand covers mine. “I know right after your mother died, the depression I was in was hard for you. I wish I could go back and fight harder to have pulled myself out of it sooner. But I can’t. I also know you resent me for it, and you should. But now you’re grown and have your own life in Cliffton Heights. I’ve finally gotten myself healthy. We both need to move on.”
I attempt to blink away the tears that keep building. “Why now? Why are you able to move on?”