Bad Boy Prince: A Modern Fairy Tale (Twisted Royals Book 3)

by Sidney Bristol

  “Hey.” Jaxon crossed the room and sat across from her.

  “Hey.” She kept staring at the floor.

  “They taking care of you? You get something to eat?” Jaxon asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Nice shirt.”

  Freya glanced down at herself. Someone had been kind enough to provide her with some yoga pants and a sweat shirt. They weren’t hers, but she felt more like herself dressed down than she had in a while.

  What did she say to Jaxon?

  Thank you?

  I’m sorry?

  I don’t know if this is a good idea?

  When it’d been about forgetting what was going on, the nightmare she was living, she’d turned to him. But what if she wasn’t capable of returning the same level of emotions Jaxon felt? What if she was broken?

  “I’m sorry about Michelle,” he said quietly. “It’s my fault. I yelled at her when I realized what was going on, and then... We shouldn’t have taken her here. I’m sorry, Freya.”

  “You’re sorry?” She gaped at Jaxon, his words so unexpected.

  Here he was again, thinking about others. Her sister. She wanted to shake him, tell him to think about himself more. Look at what putting her sister first had done to her.

  “Yeah.” He stared at her, his hazel gaze hard. He’d shoulder that blame forever if she let him.

  Freya leaned forward and grasped his hand in both of hers.

  “You’ve done everything humanly possible to help me and Michelle. It’s not your fault, Jax. We had no idea what Michelle was doing. You can’t be responsible for that and...and neither can I.”

  That was the crux of it.

  Even now, Freya was looking at Michelle’s actions and seeing them as a reflection of herself.

  They were not the same person. They were different, despite being born from the same womb and genetics. They’d chosen to be different.

  “What’s wrong?” Jaxon asked.

  “Give me a second?” She squeezed his hand, even as an invisible force squeezed her throat.

  Jaxon couldn’t shoulder the responsibility for Michelle’s betrayal for the same reasons Freya had stopped giving her sister money and a couch to sleep on. Michelle had to own her mistakes and choices.

  Freya opened her mouth, but no words came out. How did she begin to explain this huge, tangled thing she’d just lobbed at herself?

  Jaxon stroked the back of her hand with his free hand.

  “Liv told me about...your parents. And why the feds were questioning you so hard.” Freya peered up at Jaxon’s face.

  He nodded, and his lips compressed into a tight line.

  “How did you do it?” she asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Turn out so good.”

  “I don’t know that I’d call myself good.” Jaxon grimaced.

  “You’re a good guy, who has done a few bad things. It doesn’t mean you aren’t good.”

  Jaxon lifted his shoulders and shook his head.

  “The shit that went down with my parents... It wasn’t right. But it also wasn’t because of me. It didn’t include me. When I was younger, I didn’t understand, and I let it affect me, my choices, everything. It took me a long time to see that I was the...orchestrator of my own problems. No one was making trouble for me besides me.”

  Freya stared at Jaxon, searching his face for more answers. “I look at Michelle, my parents, and I wonder...am I broken?” Freya dropped her gaze back to the floor. “The only loving, healthy relationship I’ve ever had was with Mom. Michelle...I thought we loved each other. I mean...we are sisters...”

  “You can’t force a feeling.” He pressed his lips together, as though he were holding back.

  “What if I never feel that? What if I’m broken?” She stared into Jaxon’s eyes. They were more gold than green now. What did that mean?

  “You aren’t broken, Freya. You’ve been through a lot.” His words were gentle, but his gaze wasn’t. He was treating her with kid gloves and she didn’t like it.

  “I want to feel something.” Besides the fear and anxiety eating at her.

  “Just take it easy.”

  “This isn’t a new thing, Jax. This is me. I’m...not wired right. I don’t feel things.”

  “Sure you do. When we kiss, you feel something.” He smiled, but it was brief. A token effort.

  “That’s not the same.” Her traitorous body warmed, but lust wasn’t the issue. She pulled her hands from Jaxon’s grip.

  “Hey.” He snagged her by the wrist and tugged her hand back to his. “What do you think you should feel?”

  “I don’t know...” She lifted her shoulders. She wouldn’t know the feeling if it bit her.

  “What do you want to feel?”

  Love.

  Freya wanted to be loved and love. She wanted to care for someone who would care for her. But so far she’d struck out in that department.

  Jaxon lifted her hand to his lips, caressing one knuckle and then the next with his mouth. She swallowed and pressed her thighs together. This was chemistry, not emotions. They weren’t one and the same. Not that she was going to tell him to stop. She was in desperate need of something—someone—to hold onto.

  He tugged on her wrist, just a little pressure, but his intent was clear.

  She let him pull her across the gap and into his lap. There was something comforting about being in his embrace.

  He cupped her face and brushed his lips over hers.

  Everything inside of her went gooey, and her breath stuttered out of her lungs. She leaned against him, ready to lose herself in this fleeting feeling.

  “Here’s the thing about feelings...” Jaxon pushed her hair over her shoulder and cupped the back of her head. “They don’t stay the same. They change. And sometimes, they go away. When that happens, you have a choice. My parents were...they let their emotions destroy them. I didn’t understand how my aunt and uncle could look at each other and say I love you every day without throwing something at each other. That wasn’t the kind of love I was used to, until I realized that love—not lust, but love—is a choice. It’s choosing to love that person. Tell me, would you love your sister if she weren’t your sister?”

  “We probably wouldn’t even know each other.” Freya stared at his shoulder.

  “You chose to love Michelle. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He kissed her brow and blew out a breath. He was losing his patience with her. She could feel it like a line stretched too tight. “My aunt and uncle chose to love me, even when I didn’t deserve it. Maybe I still don’t deserve it. You aren’t broken, Freya. You just haven’t met someone who makes you want to choose.”

  Except she did want to choose Jaxon. Some part of her did at least. She wasn’t sure if she could feel love, but she wanted to try.

  He studied her face, and for the first time, Freya had to wonder just how little escaped him. She’d always seen him as more than a bouncer, but this kind of insight?

  “You don’t have to want me, Freya. I didn’t go looking for you with the idea that I would get anything from you. I just... I saw what happened to Shelby, and the idea of that happening to you, too...” Jaxon shook his head. “I couldn’t wait around for someone else to find you.”

  “I cried when I realized I’d missed our coffee date.” She stared at his shoulder. “They kept me knocked out in the beginning, but eventually I came around and saw someone’s phone. I really wanted to go on that date.”

  “We can always re-do the rain check.”

  “I want more, though.” She wanted what she heard girls talk about. The butterflies, the giddiness, all of that.

  “You deserve it.”

  “But what if I never feel it?”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Freya.” His tone was sharp. He grimaced and continued with a gentler bent to his voice. “You aren’t broken. And you don’t have to feel anything you don’t want to.”

  “But that’s just it. I want to.” She fla
ttened her hand against his chest. “I see the way you look at me, and what you’ve done for me, and...I want...”

  “Freya?” Jaxon flattened his hand over hers, his heart pulsing under her touch. “You were my friend, and you were in trouble. Just because I found you and did some possibly stupid things in the name of getting you out of there, doesn’t mean you have to feel any certain way about me.”

  “We had sex.”

  “And that still doesn’t mean you’re obligated to love me.”

  “But you love me.” She peered up through her lashes at his face. He didn’t even flinch.

  Jaxon stared at her, no denial passing his lips. He didn’t confirm her statement either. He simply gazed into her eyes, his easy acceptance of those words plain as day. He wasn’t hiding how he felt, and he never had. She reached deep within herself, looking for something more than a physical reaction.

  “A friend might bring over a pizza and binge watch something when you’re down about stuff. What you did was more than that.” She knew the difference. She could sense the difference between them.

  “You’ve been through a lot. There’s nothing that says you have to do, be, or feel anything right now. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. Unless you choose to.” Jaxon’s eyes crinkled, but the smile didn’t touch his lips.

  “What did I say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s supposed to be my line.”

  The joke fell flat. He didn’t crack a smile, there was no flicker of humor. “Okay.”

  She slid off his lap and sat next to him on the edge of the bed.

  Jaxon didn’t look at her. He chewed on his lower lip, lost in thought. He was right about one thing, they weren’t working off a time limit. One day at a time.

  “Do you want anything to eat or drink? They want to keep me here for a while. At least until they figure out where Yuri has gone,” Jaxon said.

  “Stay with me, please? I’m not ready to be alone.”

  “I can’t do that, Freya.”

  “Why not?” She fought down the rising panic. She needed him.

  “I just—I can’t.” He stood.

  “Jax, please?” She grasped him by the wrist and hauled herself up.

  “Freya, I can’t listen to this bullshit, I’m broken, stuff tonight. Don’t ask me to. You’ve been hurt. I get it. I don’t need more, but you’ve got to stop hiding behind this idea that you’re...flawed. We’re all a little broken. It’s how we chose to pick up the pieces and move on that matters. You’ve said it yourself, and yet you won’t let go of this one thing. Because—why? It means being vulnerable? Getting hurt again? I don’t know. But when I look at you I don’t see flawed or broken. I see cautious and careful. There’s nothing wrong with that. I just wish...you saw yourself like I do.”

  She stared at him, those words pelting her, but they didn’t hurt. They stung.

  Freya tightened her grip on Jaxon’s wrist.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Why? Maybe you’re right.” She swallowed and straightened her spine a bit.

  “What I think doesn’t matter—”

  “Bullshit.” She echoed him.

  They stared at each other.

  She’d admired Jaxon, his kindness, the way he handled people, his attitude, everything about him.

  “I need you, Jax. Maybe you’re right. And you know what? If you are, I need to hear that. I need someone who will call me on my shit. If it’s going to be anyone, I want it to be you. Please, stay?”

  17.

  Jaxon stared at Freya, her inner fire burning in her eyes.

  He’d just told her she was full of shit and she practically thanked him for it.

  She wasn’t broken. Or flawed. Those ideas were garbage. She’d been hurt and betrayed. That didn’t mean she was beyond hope. Just that she needed to heal and figure out what came next. It was like physical therapy for the heart.

  She’d suffered a long time. She’d lived in the regeneration phase, refusing to give up the injury. It was beyond time she moved on. Healed. And went about living.

  He wanted to be part of that, which was why, despite his crumbling resolve to see her and then leave, he’d stay.

  “Whatever you need.” Those words killed Jaxon, but he meant them.

  The truth was, neither Freya or Jaxon could hide behind the bullshit with the other. They were too closely knit for that. He couldn’t hide the truth from her, though he’d tried to hide it from himself.

  He loved her.

  How he felt wasn’t new, it was the intensity of it that was.

  Maybe he’d been in love with her for a while.

  Jaxon hadn’t realized just how far off the reservation he’d gone until those agents started picking at him, ripping apart his reasoning, accusing him of crimes he hadn’t committed. If it hadn’t been for his buddy Javier’s lawyer friend, Jaxon might be digging himself out of a hole right now. One thing that was blatantly obvious now that hadn’t been before, was that where Freya was concerned, Jaxon wasn’t reasonable.

  He was more like his dad than he wanted to admit. And that was a scary fact.

  His parents hadn’t been able to let go of each other, their anger, or their bitterness, and it’d killed them.

  The last thing he wanted was for something bad to happen to Freya. Which was why he should be walking out that door instead of sitting his ass right here.

  But what the hell did he know?

  God, he could remember the night when he’d looked at her and thought, now or never. She’d been standing under a light in a silver dress so pale it looked white. The chump standing next to him had said something stupid, and she’d glanced at him. As the two oldest in the circle, they often shared looks.

  That night, he’d told himself he’d do it. He’d ask her out. When the moment was right. He’d gotten cold feet a few times. It wasn’t like before, when he was the center of attention, at the top of his MMA game with the world at his feet. Jaxon was just a bouncer at a club, nothing to offer a girl with class, and he still didn’t. Which was another reason why he should leave.

  When this was over, when she went on about her life, maybe she’d realize that he didn’t have a place in her world. She was moonlighting in his. Would it be wrong to take what she offered, knowing that? When it was truly over, could he let her go? Or would he become his father, his mother, and repeat their mistakes?

  Freya kissed his cheek, her breath warming him.

  The last of his resolve was crumbling, turning to dust under the gentle press of her kiss. He turned his face toward her lips sliding on skin. Their mouths met, but only for a moment.

  He was staying. But not for that.

  If Freya didn’t know what she wanted, if she needed time, then he needed distance. He couldn’t keep his promise if they kept this up.

  “What is it?” She applied the barest amount of pressure to the back of his head.

  He didn’t lean in. He straightened.

  Freya peered at him, frowning.

  “I’ll stay, but you can’t keep doing that.” He stroked a lock of her hair. So soft and gentle.

  “I want to, though. I want you to make love to me. When I kiss you, when you touch me, I feel things.”

  Fuck.

  He did not need the reminder.

  “Me, too. And that’s the problem. You have to decide what you want, Freya.” Jaxon loved her. He cared for her. He wanted her. But he couldn’t let those feelings dictate his actions. That was the lesson he’d learned watching his parents deteriorate. That was the difference in how their story ended, and how he turned the page. His parents had become slaves to their feelings and it had destroyed them. He wouldn’t be like them.

  She frowned, her gaze boring into his skull as though she might be able to read his thoughts. She wanted so badly to feel something right now, but that wasn’t how she worked. Studying Freya had become his favorite pastime. She had to lead with
her head. Falling in love with him would be a choice, not a feeling, and she had to make that decision on her own. He couldn’t tell her. That was a realization she had to figure out.

  “Come on, let’s get some sleep.” He squeezed her hip.

  Freya stood, paced to the door and back.

  “How does this work, then?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Us? If I can’t kiss you, if we can’t...” She glanced away.

  “Come here.” He tugged her to him, her arms sliding around his waist.

  He wouldn’t admit how much he liked that word. Us. And that she was the one saying it. It didn’t change things. It did mean that he had to be twice as careful.

  Jaxon kissed the top of her head.

  “I know what I want, Freya.” He bumped her chin so she had to look at him, so there would be no misunderstanding. “I’m also a jealous, possessive man by nature. You might not like that part of me. So, until you decide what you want, maybe we cool it a bit?”

  Freya nodded and pulled away from him. She climbed into the bed, still dressed. It might be a while before she learned how to rest again, without being ready for a threat to wake her up in the middle of the night.

  Jaxon stripped down to his boxers, hit the lights and slid in behind Freya. She pulled his arm over her waist, no hesitation whatsoever about wanting to be held.

  “Did you miss class because of me?” she asked.

  “One or two. No big deal.” He wasn’t looking forward to checking his missed assignments tomorrow, or whenever he could get to them. His instructors had a strict policy about no make-up work. He’d just have to pray his other assignments would be good enough for him to get by and still keep his scholarship for the fall.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I’ll still help you study. I’m good at that.”

  “I don’t see a lot of studying happening when you’re around.” He chuckled.

  “Hey, I’m an excellent study partner, and I bet there’s some overlap.” She turned in his embrace so they faced each other sharing a pillow, their noses so close they almost touched.