by James Tate
One thing was for fucking sure, Brandon wasn’t getting away with this. Not by a long shot.
I made it about halfway down the empty hall before I needed to stop and lean on the wall for a rest. My wrist was still buzzing away, so I glanced down at the display.
“What the fuck?” I muttered out loud at Rafe’s smirking face lighting up the screen. Curious, I pressed accept. “How the fuck did you get my number?” I demanded. “And why is yours saved into my palm reader?”
“Where are you, Violet?” he snapped. Not “Cinderella,” huh? They must be really concerned. That or he just wanted to see my messed-up face so he could laugh.
“Go to hell, Rafe,” I replied, too tired to play games. I hit end on the call and sucked up enough determination to keep going.
My wrist buzzed the whole way back to my room, and when I only had one corner left to turn, I gave in and checked the display. Twenty-seven messages and eighteen missed calls from Mattie, a similar number from Nolan, nine messages and six calls from Jordan, and a couple of texts from Alex.
There was just one message from Rafe: Don’t be such a bitch, Vi.
The fuck?
Fuck you. We’re not on nickname terms, it’s Violet.
Rafe: Vi is short for Violence. A more fitting name for you than Vengeance.
Oh, so were dropping the act now, huh? Nolan must have ratted me out, the bastard.
You think?
I meant it sarcastically, and hopefully my tone conveyed over message. I sure as shit wasn’t in the mood for a voice call just to trade barbs with the infuriating prick.
Rafe: You’ll see.
Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean. Ugh.
Angry at his cryptic reply, I leaned heavily on the wall while trying to figure out how to change his name in my contacts.
Angel: Reply to Mattie. She’s worried.
I smirked at his girly name in my contacts and decided not to reply. I’d been a bit of a bitch to her, and she’d really done nothing to deserve it. I’d call her later… after I’d cleaned up a bit.
I sighed, then pushed off the wall and kept going toward my room. It was a damn miracle I hadn’t run into anyone on my way back to the housing wing…
“Violet?” Alex’s sharp voice pulled me out of my one foot after another daze, and I froze. “What the hell happened to you?”
My new boyfriend was standing outside my bedroom door like he’d been waiting there for me. Funny that it was him staking out my room and none of the others.
“Uh…” I went to bite my lip, but holy motherfucking shitballs that hurt. “Probably not going to buy it if I say nothing, huh?”
Alex’s eyes damn near bugged out of his head, and I sighed.
“Come in. I’ll tell you after I shower.”
He looked like he wanted to argue or punch something. His fists were clenched tight at his sides, but he gave a short nod and waited while I unlocked the door and went inside.
“Who did this to you, Violet?” Alex demanded, following me to my bathroom and hovering in the doorframe while I fished a washcloth out from the little linen cabinet.
Standing in front of the mirror, I hissed a sharp breath as I took in my appearance. No wonder Alex looked like he wanted to kill someone. I legitimately looked like I’d just had the shit kicked out of me.
Which, I kind of had.
“I’m going to fucking murder that prick,” I growled to my reflection, forgetting for a moment that I had company. “He’s fucking dead.”
“Who, Violet?” Alex damn near shouted, coming closer but pausing with his hands inches from my body. Smart boy. Pretty much nowhere was safe to touch me right now. I was one huge walking bruise. “Who did this to you? Who are you planning on killing?”
“Brandon Morgan,” I spat his name like a bad taste. “Him and that raging cuntface Claudette.”
Alex’s brows shot up. Maybe he hadn’t expected me to name names, but I didn’t owe those bastards anything.
“They did this to you? On academy grounds? They could be sentenced to death.” His voice was cold, devoid of emotions. It was a tone I’d never heard from the charming Australasian prince, but it was kind of a turn-on. In a sick sort of way.
I met his gaze in the mirror while wetting my washcloth under the faucet. “For beating up the poor little ballot winner? The charity case that no one wants here anyway, but you all put up with for the positive public relations?”
I was on a roll now, every pissed-off thought since I’d arrived here spilling out of me. Brandon had done more than just hurt me physically tonight; he’d shaken loose some long suppressed darkness, my past coming back to fucking haunt me.
Arms wrapped around me, gently, and then I was being lifted and carried bride-style to the shower. I wanted to fight him. I fucking hated being carried like this, but I was barely able to stand, so I let Alex baby me.
Just a few minutes.
I promised myself that I’d just take this moment of leaning on someone, and then I’d be back. The shower was turned on, but I couldn’t see anything because my face was buried in his chest. When it was warm, he stepped in, shoes on and everything, and held me under the warm spray. Spray that felt gentle, like he’d adjusted the pressure so it wouldn’t hurt my injuries. I mean, my cuts burned like bitches, but otherwise, it was almost soothing.
A sob escaped, but I sucked it back inside, hoping like fuck that Alex hadn’t heard me. It wasn’t the pain, I was well-versed in that; it was the degradation. It was submitting to that fucker. That bothered me on a level I doubted I could explain to anyone.
There was nothing I hated more than being weak.
Fucking hell, I was still in my bloody, soaking uniform, which was a total dead loss. Where I’d come up with the money for a new uniform, I had no idea. Right now, though, I just wanted it off.
“I can take it from here,” I said softly, and I was surprised when Alex’s chest rumbled.
“I don’t want to leave you alone.”
Something unraveled just a little in my chest, the icy hold my emotions had on me thawing. “I’m going to be fine,” I told him, some slow breaths escaping as I got myself further under control. “I’m no stranger to pain. I just need to soak for a bit.”
Alex’s chest rumbles seemed to increase, and I wasn’t really sure what part of my statement had upset him more until he growled. “Why are you no stranger to pain? Who hurt you before today?”
My chuckle was dark. “How long do you have?”
Alex set me on my feet, and I balanced myself against the wall, wincing at the agony that shot through almost every part of me.
“Do you have pain killers?” Alex asked, and I was surprised he let the “who hurt you” thing go. “A medical kit?”
“Yeah, in that top drawer.”
I pointed it out and then sank to the floor, cradling my body as the hot water ran over me. This close, I couldn’t miss that the water that hadn’t drained yet was bright red. Blood was dripping everywhere, over all the walls and down to the floor.
Holy shit. That was a lot of blood, and I was pretty sure Claudette hadn’t dropped that much animal blood on me.
Brandon was a dead man.
Slowly, painfully, I stripped the wet fabric from my body. I was past the point of caring whether Alex saw me naked. After all, he’d see what I was packing under my uniform sooner or later. Would have been nicer under different circumstances, though.
Alex popped his head back in, a towel around him as he dried off, before he handed me a glass of water and two small pills. “I’ll be back,” he said shortly. “Someone is knocking on your door.”
My head was pounding so hard that all I could do was nod before swallowing the painkillers and praying they’d kick in soon. This would be the first time I’d been hurt like this and wouldn’t have to suffer with the pain and insomnia for days. I’d actually have some relief.
I must have passed out for a second or two before the shouting jolted me back
to consciousness.
“You left her in the fucking shower like that?” Rafe demanded. “She could drown.”
“I was with her until you knocked, like the stalking fuck you are,” Alex shouted back. “Now fuck off, dude, you’re not welcome here. I can take care of Violet. She’s my girlfriend.”
Rafe’s voice lowered, but I could have sworn he said, “Not if I can help it.”
There was a scuffle, and normally I’d have dragged myself out of the shower and covered up with a towel or something. But I was still covered in blood, hurting, and I wasn’t sure I could actually move. Rafe suddenly appeared in the shower door, and I swear to god his face was built of thunder and rage.
“Hey,” he said softly when I got my eyes open. Alex stood behind him, glaring, but he didn’t move closer. “I need you to tell me everything that happened.”
There was this undertone, and I could see Fallen Angel in both his voice and face. Fallen Angel, who doubled as the bringer of death. His gaze didn’t move from my face. Not even for a sneaky peek at my tits like I’d just seen Alex do from the corner of my eye.
Maybe I was being too cynical; he could have just been looking at my injuries.
“What happened is your fucking girlfriend tried to have mine murdered,” Alex snarled.
Rafe didn’t move, his gaze still on me … or more accurately, on the blood draining into the shower around me. As it swirled, the dark, midnight depths of his irises were swirling, too. “Claudette was involved?” he said, ice coating every word.
I nodded. “Yes. She spilled blood on me so I—” A cough wracked me, and I wrapped an arm around myself when my aching ribs protested. “I was going to my room and got ambushed by Brandon.”
“How did he get the drop on you?” Rafe demanded. I blinked as the ferocity of his tone; I’d never seen him like this. “There’s no way that’s possible.”
It made me feel slightly better that he respected my fighting that much.
“He knew about last Friday,” I said softly, hoping that Alex couldn’t hear. “I think he had a camera to try to catch me out.”
Realization slammed hard into Rafe, judging by the set of his jaw and the stiffness in those broad shoulders. “He’s gone from the academy. From the Switzerlands,” he growled, and I knew without any doubt that he would follow through. “His time here has ended, and he’ll be lucky if he can find an alley to live in. I will destroy him.”
Searching deep, I found strength I previously hadn’t been able to grasp. “No,” I said, with force.
Alex protested immediately. “What? Violet, we have the power to hurt him. Let us do that.”
Rafe’s head shot around so fast, I was surprised he didn’t wrench his neck. “We are nothing, Alex. I’m not part of anything you do. This is on me. I will destroy Brandon.”
“No!” I said again.
Rafe’s fury spilled over, filling the room with an energy that almost drowned me. But it didn’t scare me. Not even a tiny bit. “Brandon is mine,” I said with steel in my voice, glaring to remind Rafe exactly who I was. What I was capable of. “He doesn’t even understand what he started, but I promise you, I’m going to end it.”
Alex scoffed. “You’re tiny. How will you destroy him alone?”
I could hear other unsaid shit in his voice. You’re a chick. You’re poor. You have no power. Blah blah blah.
Rafe didn’t say anything like that though. He just watched me with that dark-hooded gaze, gave me a nod, and then in a flash he was gone.
It didn’t bother me though. Rafe and I got each other when it came to things like this. Alex, I could already tell, didn’t understand, but that was okay. He provided something else.
Comfort. Caring.
Chapter 19
Alex helped me into bed, patched up the worst of my cuts, and then reluctantly called Mattie to stay with me because they had their charity game against Oxford tonight.
“I can skip it,” he protested when I waved him toward the door.
“No way,” I said softly. “I’ll be fine for a few hours; Mattie will be with me.”
I was only going to pass out in a painkiller-induced sleep anyway.
When he finally left, Mattie sank down next to me, keeping her distance. “I’m so sorry, girl,” she said, looking teary. “I should have known. I should have gone with you.”
I felt even worse about my harsh words before when I’d thought she might have been in on it. Reaching out, I grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly. “I’m grateful for you. Thank you for being a truly genuine friend.”
Her tears spilled over, trickling down her cheeks.
“And none of this is your fault,” I assured her, trying to sound less like a drugged-out idiot and more like a rational person. “This is all on Claudette and Brandon, and I’m going to make them both pay. Don’t you worry.”
With that, she climbed in closer, snuggling gently into my side, and I fell asleep feeling loved and comforted.
By the time I woke, Alex was back with the news that they’d had their asses kicked. Apparently he’d had a terrible game and so had Rafe. I felt somewhat responsible for that, having been a pretty huge distraction, but at least it wasn’t part of their regular season. So it wouldn’t count toward the cup at the end of the year. Silver lining.
Mattie put up a bit of a fight when Alex tried to kick her out, but finally gave in after I yelled at them both for giving me a headache. Not a lie, my head was pounding.
Alex hid his bad mood well, staying with me all night and keeping up with my painkillers. When morning dawned, I realized I’d had a dude in my bed all night, no sex, and I didn’t feel weird about it.
“How are you today?” he asked, staring down, his brow furrowed as he ran those sky-blue eyes over me.
Shifting sent a wash of pain over me, dulled slightly by the pills, but still probably an eight out of ten. “Not gonna lie … I feel like a bucket of shit.”
His lips twitched. “Good to see your snark hasn’t gone anywhere.”
Another groan as I rolled over. “I’d have to be dead for that.”
Whatever smile that had been forming faded, his eyes going flat. “Don’t even joke about that. I still don’t understand why you won’t let me gut Brandon and hang him out for the vultures.”
I shook my head, knowing that Alex would never get it. He’d never been weak he didn’t understand the power exchange and how, right now, Brandon had it all. I needed to be the one to take it back.
“It’ll be okay,” I assured him, patting his arm. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, needing to pee. “I’m stronger than I look.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to explain my training and the reason I’d taken the beating last night, but something held me back. Rafe knowing was already one too many royals, but at least I knew he was guarding his own secrets.
Alex stayed with me for the rest of the weekend, our time together broken only by Mattie and Nolan’s frequent visits. Jordan even stopped by once, and he was vibrating the same dark fury Rafe had been. It was easy to see why they were best friends; there were a lot of similarities between them.
For the most part, though, it was just Alex and me. And truthfully, I loved my time hanging out with him. We bonded. We talked about our lives. He told me that he was the oldest of five—three sisters and one brother who was two. His father had remarried when Alex’s mother died of cancer, hence the huge age gap between him and the newest member of their family.
“What’s your stepmom like?” I asked, lying in the dark room with him as he stroked my hair.
His snort was low and unamused. “She’s the typical wife of a king. Prim, proper, stick-up-her-ass, no wrinkles on her face or personality in her body. I’ve never really had much to do with her, and my father isn’t the easiest man to be around either. I have my own estate in New Sydney, down the road from the official palace grounds. That’s as close as I can get without losing my mind.”
There was so much unsaid in
those semi-joking words. I sensed that dark demons existed between Alex and his father, but he did seem to love his siblings.
Late Sunday afternoon, when I was mourning the return of school—but at least I was feeling somewhat better—my door burst open. “Oh my god,” Mattie said. “You will never believe what happened.”
A snort of laughter left me. “What? Since you were here thirty minutes ago.”
“And two hours before that,” Alex grumbled. He hadn’t appreciated the constant interruptions. “I’m going to head to my room,” he added. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I nodded, and my stomach swirled as Alex leaned over and kissed me, extending it for many moments, even with Mattie groaning from where she stood.
When he left, I shook my head, feeling somewhat bereft that he was gone. I’d grown used to him being there outside of the few times he’d gone to his room for a shower and to change.
It felt … lonelier in here without him.
Mattie threw herself down next to me, and I winced as she jostled my injuries. “Shit, sorry,” she said in a rush. “You hide your pain so well I keep forgetting.” Reaching out, she awkwardly patted me on the shoulder, and I waited for the “there, there” to come from her. Mattie wasn’t the best at comforting people, and it made me laugh when she tried.
“All good, so what’s your news?” I said as I pressed back into my pillows, getting comfortable.
“Claudette is gone.”
I paused. “What do you mean gone?” Where I grew up, that could mean anything from missing to dead.
“Rafe booted her ass from Arbon and the Switzerlands, and right now there is talk of discord between her family and his. It’s turning into a huge political mess.”
Holy fuck.
“What?” I breathed. “He … but don’t they have an arranged marriage?”
Mattie nodded, breathing fast, her eyes wide and dilated. “It’s all over. Finished. Done. Broken off.” She shook her head. “Totally insane. The biggest scandal of the century. I can’t even believe he did that, and he did it for you.”
“No,” I objected. “No. He doesn’t even like me, and to do something so huge that … It makes no sense.”