He wasn’t the first man I’d broken.
He wouldn’t be the last either.
Deep down in the privacy of my thoughts, I could admit it scared me how little I cared about that fact.
“You put yourself on the wrong side of destiny, professor.”
“Ambrose, please.” His eyes shone. “You know me. You’ve known me for years, and I’ve never crossed the Tarots.”
I bared my teeth at the sound of that fucking title coming from his mouth. A pointless gesture if there ever was one.
It was who we were. Fate, destiny, and a giant pass in the ass. It was also inescapable.
“She’s legal,” he said. “It was all consensual, I swear it.”
God, I hated this part.
I popped a brow. “You think we care who you fuck in your spare time, professor?”
“If this isn’t about her then—”
“I never said it wasn’t. Your love life isn’t my problem.” I paused, dangling the blade above his head before I let it drop. “At least until you threw money in a pregnant girl’s face and told her to use it or find a coat hanger.”
Crimson stained his cheeks while sweat dotted his forehead. “Y-you don’t understand. I’ve already got a pregnant wife at home. I can’t have some tramp running around with another child!”
“Had a pregnant wife at home,” Erik chimed in, another signature smirk on his face.
Kelvin turned white as a ghost. There was irony there, since he was about to become one.
“You wouldn’t,” he whispered, but his head hung.
He knew the truth, even before Baron provided it. “We already did. She never wants to see you again.”
The professor wet his lips. “My job?”
“No longer yours.” My shoulders lifted and fell. “Don’t worry. We’re looking for your replacement.”
“You’ve ruined my life,” he breathed, sinking into himself until he looked twice his age.
I stood. “You managed that all on your own.” My hand found my back pocket, retrieving the deck of cards wrapped in velvet. “The only choice you have left is to pick your poison.”
Despair hollowed his cheeks as he watched me unwrap his fate. I stashed the cloth and shuffled the deck like I had a thousand times before. Each time the cards slapped against each other he winced.
He shivered when I cut the deck in half and folded them together again.
Shrunk back when I offered them to him.
Whimpered when Erik cut his hands loose.
“Four cards repeated seventy-eight times,” I said, voice empty as my eyes. “Death. Strength. The Magician. The Fool. Which one of us will it be?”
His jaw trembled. “What if I don’t choose?”
Chrom stepped up beside me, a towering fortress of muscle. “Then we all chip in, just to make it fair.”
Kelvin’s trembling hand inched forward.
I stared as Erik leaned with him, a little too eager for the outcome. Baron watched with interest instead of turning away like he used to. Tension lingered in Chrom’s tight fists, but he didn’t try to stop me.
Kelvin picked a single, black card and dropped it the moment he turned it over. We all watched it land face up on the ground, revealing a skeletal knight on a pale horse, carrying a banner that held a white rose.
Death.
“Go,” I said softly, retrieving the card before stashing the rest away.
They lingered for a moment. My brothers. My friends. But the world had its rules, and we had ours.
Fate only needed an avatar.
Not witnesses.
Questions and complaints stayed trapped on their tongues. One by one, they filtered out the way they’d come. I felt Chrom’s attention on my back the longest. I didn’t turn.
Then it was just the two of us.
Predator and prey.
Action and reaction.
The guilty and the punishment he had coming.
A tear slipped down his face. It didn’t matter. He was broken, and I would break him again because it was expected of me. Then I would get on the road with nothing but an address.
The chains that bound me demanded it.
Penance.
“You’ll live through this,” I told him, right before the punch that broke his nose and left him howling.
He’d just wish he hadn’t.
5
Emily
A lack of sleep accounted for the lava pits that had replaced my eyes, burning the inside of my skull. It didn’t account for hallucinations.
I’d gone longer than a day without sleep several times before. Not once had I seen something that couldn’t be possible.
But there had to be another explanation.
Because that couldn’t be Dad sleeping in the chair by Mom’s hospital bed, looking like he’d never left given the rumpled state of his expensive suit.
I rubbed my eyes and the scene before me stayed the same. Since my sleep-deprived brain couldn’t process this any better the second time around, I went in search of coffee instead, tugging on the straps of the backpack I’d put together in the early hours of the morning.
No way he slept there, I told myself, approaching the nurse’s desk.
Thankfully, the easily bought woman from yesterday was nowhere to be seen. Less fortunately, a cluster of chipper nurses hovered around my salvation, speaking in squeaks and giggles.
“...know what I said about older men,” one of them was saying as I approached. “But for him? I would totally make an exception.”
Another sighed wistfully. “If only he had some grays coming in. Talk about a silver fox.” She fanned herself, and my eyes almost rolled from their sockets. “And the way he stayed at her bedside the entire night, holding her hand? They don’t make ‘em like that anymore.”
There’s no way they’re talking about who I think.
For one thing, gross. I did not need to see girls half my dad’s age salivating over him first thing in the morning.
Second thing, I could only imagine how quickly their tunes would change if they knew he was the scum of the earth.
“Do you think he whispered in her ear?” the first one asked with a salacious grin. “That might be worth spending the day as a crazy, old woman who’s had too much lipo.”
I slapped my open palm on the desk and the three of them almost jumped out of their skin. They recovered quickly enough, plastering fake smiles onto their faces and grabbing clipboards.
“Could I get two coffees?” I asked no one in particular. Keeping the venom out of my voice wasn’t easy.
I wondered how eager they would be to sing his praises if they knew what I knew. Then I reconsidered.
A car worth more than some houses was parked outside. If they were anything like Mom, they would put up with everything he said or did in favor of having access to it.
What did morals matter when you had clout?
I didn’t understand it, and I wasn’t sure I ever would. How did bragging rights make up for dealing with total assholes? Guys were annoying enough when they didn’t have anything they could hold over your head.
“Of course, sweetie,” said the smiling nurse. “Any particular flavor?”
Sweetie? She can’t be more than a few years older than me.
Also, since when did hospitals offer more than black coffee and a handful of sugar packets if you were lucky?
The only option had been black the last time I was—
“Doesn’t matter,” I forced through clenched teeth. My nails bit into my palms as I forced unhelpful thoughts into the background. That didn’t keep me from rubbing my knee and the ache I usually ignored. “As long as it’s strong.”
My gaze landed on something else sitting behind the counter. Something I couldn’t resist.
I pointed at the open box of cupcakes. “I’ll take one of those as well.”
“Oh, those aren’t for—”
My eyes narrowed.
Her smile turned brittle.<
br />
Maybe Danika had a point about the glare after all.
“Sure,” she managed. “Sprinkles or...”
Her words tapered off as the elevator dinged open behind me. I didn’t pay much attention to it while reaching over to snatch a cupcake with what looked like vanilla bean frosting.
I expected a snide comment when I held it to my nose and took a quick sniff, but nothing came. At least, nothing other than the rumble of my stomach, complaining about the lack of real food over the last twenty-four hours.
Apparently, weed and coffee didn’t constitute real sustenance.
Who knew?
Unfortunately, I would never get to take the bite my mouth was already opening for.
Instead, I got a timely reminder that life wasn’t a movie. If it was, an orchestra would’ve played a haunting melody when the elevator unleashed its contents. At the least, a sound effect would’ve accompanied the wide-eyed stare the nurse sent over my shoulder.
But no one was paying fifteen dollars a month to watch me do anything.
So, the devil walked back into my life without the fanfare he deserved.
This time?
There was blood on his hands.
“Room two hundred and five,” said a soft voice that tugged at my memory.
My mouth snapped shut, the cupcake forgotten as I turned. I didn’t know anyone who sounded like that. And it wasn’t like Mom would have a line of friends who showed up because she was in the hospital.
Then I saw him, and it made sense that all the nurses had become mannequins with slack jaws.
Standing just behind my shoulder—so tall I had to tip my head back—was a guy so beautiful it bordered on cruelty.
Sharp.
It was the dominant trait of his appearance. The first thing that stood out to me. From his jaw to his nose to the thin slice of his lips was a face so chiseled I thought my eyes would bleed from running over it.
Dark eyes sat below darker brows, and the one he held imperiously arched had two vertical slits. His chocolate hair was buzzed on either side, tapering to a high fade that swept towards the back and looked lusciously soft. Possibly the only soft thing about him.
I might have stayed on the hair longer—there was no better feeling than silky strands pouring through my fingers—but the tattoo on his neck distracted me.
The white and black rose was the only thing at odds with his neat grooming, designer jeans, and tight shirt that fit his lean frame like a glove.
And why did he look so damn familiar?
Dude had probably dropped so many panties strolling through here that his boots should be wet.
I would remember someone like that, wouldn’t I?
“Some-fucking-time today would be nice,” he said, never raising his voice.
That didn’t stop the nurse from flinching or me from rearing back when I started to put the pieces together.
The party.
The pier.
The quiet boy sitting in my spot.
The same boy who’d made sure to piss all over my day right before it went to total and complete shit.
Heat surged through my veins without warning. A sneer curled my lips. Who he was and why he was here were questions quickly forgotten beneath the need for payback.
“Hey, asshole.” I poked him in the side.
Just like that day almost six years ago, his gaze slowly transferred to me. Like it was a chore for him to be distracted from the utterly riveting fuckery of his existence.
Eyes almost black found my pale blue. Recognition didn’t light them up. The sun probably couldn’t either. He was all silent menace, quiet and deadly like an odorless toxin.
Since he didn’t respond, I didn’t bother saying anything else.
I sent a silent apology to the baker and smashed the cupcake against his chest.
Petty? One hundred percent.
Worth it? Absolutely.
Whoever claimed vengeance didn’t feel amazing could go kick rocks because they were full of shit.
Crushing that cupcake against the hard planes of his chest, really smearing it in while the nurses watched in shocked silence, sent pleasure buzzing through my veins that none of my other vices could compare to.
His chin dipped, staring down at his shirt when I finally pulled my hand away.
I waited patiently for the outburst coming my way. Vanilla bean frosting refused to come out of fabric no matter what. Ask me how I know. His hundred-dollar t-shirt was now expensive trash.
So when his voice emerged in the barest whisper, it threw me for a moment.
Dark eyes lifted in challenge. His nostrils flared. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
My mouth formed a mocking O as I wiped the last of the crumbs from my fingers using his shirt.
“Goodness me,” I said, smiling from ear to ear. “I didn’t see you there. I was just throwing that out and mistook you for a conveniently placed lake.”
I bit off the last word and stepped away.
His hands finally emerged from his pockets, revealing scarred knuckles. The bits of flaky, drying blood between them held a pin to the balloon of my joy.
What are the odds of that being his blood?
When he reclaimed the space between us, angling so that I was stuck between him and the desk, the balloon popped completely.
Those bladed features cut at my heart, but cowering would’ve soured my victory. So, while his lip curled, I kept my smile in place and pretended he wasn’t getting to me.
“You,” he hissed.
I reached up and patted his cheek, using the clean hand this time. Provoking possible murderers wasn’t on my bucket list, even if I couldn’t seem to stop myself from antagonizing him.
“Aww, you remember. I hate to spoil this reunion, but frosting really isn’t your color.”
His eye ticked.
Watch it, girl. People who poke wild animals usually get eaten by them.
I would say one thing for tall, dark, and scary, he had the act of looming down to a science.
If the whole entitled, rich asshole thing didn’t work out for him, he could totally be the bad cop in the interrogation room that stood there scowling. Their sole purpose to make you fear for all the awful things they would do if the cameras weren’t on.
On a more serious note, dude seriously needed a lesson on personal space.
I adjusted the brim of the ball cap hiding the rat’s nest of my reddish-blonde hair and my elbow bumped his chest. That’s how close he stood.
His attention slid down my body, taking in everything without ever stopping to linger. At least until he reached my miniskirt. Then his snarl eased a fraction, and I hated the heat that curled in my chest.
He’s the enemy, I told my body.
He’s the hottest thing on two legs, the elevated beat of my heart responded.
Stupid bodily functions.
Stupid, hot, cupcake destroyer.
“You ditched the bows.” His breath fanned over my face, tinged with peppermint. “Good choice.”
He remembers what I was wearing?
That was...something. I couldn’t decide what. Didn’t care either.
“If only I had a real one,” I said, folding my arms. “And an arrow dipped in poison. I would put it through your eye.”
The arched brow climbed higher, scaling his neat hairline. “You realize you sound insane? It was one cupcake. Years ago.”
“It’s the principle of the matter.”
“This shirt was half a grand.”
Okay, miscalculated that. “It looks better this way.”
He shifted, arms brushing my waist.
Did someone turn the AC off? Why was I breathing like I was two laps into a mile?
Oh, right, it probably had something to do with the ludicrous amount of heat he was throwing off.
Maybe this joker was part werewolf. It would explain the permanent bad mood. I’d be cross with the world if I woke up naked in the woods once a month.
I blinked, focusing on him again. “Were you?”
His slow smirk answered before his lips formed a quiet, “No.”
“Then—”
“Why?” A shoulder lifted and fell. “Because you annoyed me, and because I could. Here’s a free tip. Hop on a ladder and get over it.”
What a piece of work.
“Or you could apologize,” I said.
He shook his head slowly. “Not going to happen. I don’t apologize for anything, cupcake girl. You’re lucky I didn’t toss you in the water.”
My hands curled into fists. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Try?” Dark eyes climbed my body again, stirring flutters in my chest. “I wouldn’t need to try to get you wet.”
One of the nurses gasped behind me, stealing my reaction. Had he really just said that?
Smacking him across the face was looking better and better by the minute.
My mouth opened. I had no idea what was about to spill out. I didn’t get a chance to find out, either.
Dad—excuse me, lack of sleep—James came around the corner and growled, “What the hell is going on here?”
The blush I’d managed to keep at bay finally stained my cheeks as I pictured how this looked. A random guy pressed almost between my legs, trapping me against the desk. Deadbeat dad or not, I was sure no father wanted to see their daughter in a position like that.
“Mr. Brennan,” said the random guy in question.
My brows jumped. They knew each other?
James’ glare turned downright murderous as he stalked towards us, stopping to send a pointed glance at the lack of space.
“Ambrose,” he ground out. “What are you doing here?”
I finally had a name to go with the bane of my existence.
Ambrose took his time moving away from me. “You called in a favor.”
“I called your mother.”
“Well, she sent me. And after meeting the locals”—his empty stare slid to me—”I’m ready to put this shithole in my rearview. Why am I here?”
James ignored him, turning to me instead. “Golden ticket, Emily. Have you made your decision?”
I threw my hands in the air, not giving a damn that we had an audience. “You can’t ask me to decide now!”
Defiant Prince: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Black Rose University Book 1) Page 4