The Throne
Page 20
They mumbled, they argued, but they agreed.
My eyes swept over the people that I loved, landing on Sophie. “I need to talk to you and Oliver in private.”
She startled, her gaze flying to Oliver, but she nodded.
Everyone but security filed out to another room in the suite. I sat on the couch that faced Sophie, while Oliver held up the wall next to Sophie’s armchair. He stood as close to her as possible without actually encroaching on her space.
The line between proprietary and protection was blurred, but not in an obvious way.
“What’s going on?” Sophie asked.
“I need you to go away,” I said softly, knowing she was going to resist.
“I’m sorry?” she snapped.
“And I need you to take her,” I said to Oliver.
“What?” He came off the wall but didn’t walk toward me.
“When I was in the tunnel, with Ian, he mentioned a threat against you,” I told Sophie. “He was pretty damn specific. They’re going to use someone to get close to you. I don’t know why or how, but they wanted me dead so you would be on the throne.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “I...I don’t even want it. I never have.”
“I know that,” I reassured her. “I think they were hoping you’d take the crown and they could get someone in power with you who would dissolve the monarchy.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen. I’m never getting married anyway.”
I blinked. So don’t have time for that aspect of the conversation.
“Sophie, he knew you’re allergic to peanuts, and penicillin. Peanuts, sure that’s common knowledge. But penicillin? That’s classified and only in your medical records, which are, again, classified. Not even Ian had access to that information through his position as security.”
“They’re in deep,” Oliver said, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
“Too deep. We’re locking the royal family down, but with a specific threat against Sophie...I want her gone, at least for a few months.”
“And where do you want me to go? I don’t want to leave you here with this. I can help with Charlotte, with any appearances. Please don’t make me go, Jaime.”
I moved and sat next to my little sister.
“I know you can help. You’re fully capable, and brilliant. You are truly the best of us, and you always have been. But you’re my little sister, and at the end of the day, I can’t stomach the thought of anything happening to you. Do you get that? If something does happen to us, if this plot is deeper than they know right now, then I need you safe. And if they’re coming for you, then you’re not safe in Rhyston.”
“But the security—”
“Ian was security!” I snapped.
Her hands hit her lap and her back straightened. “I understand.”
“I don’t think you do. We’ve had threats with your picture, too, Sophie. They know your schedule, they know your security team. You aren’t safe here. I can’t keep you safe here.”
She swallowed but didn’t cry. Even when faced with a death threat on her, she held her composure, looking for ways to help other people.
“Okay. How long do I have to be gone?”
“Just a few months, I think. We just need time to get to the bottom of the threat.”
She nodded, her face set in the soft lines of resignation.
I stood, and Oliver met me, pulling me to the other side of the room.
“I’m not leaving you.” He shook his head. “No way.”
“You have to.”
“Not with you in danger. Send someone else.”
“No. It has to be you. The palace is on lockdown. No appearances other than television, all security checked and rechecked. I’m safe. Charlotte is safe. Sophie is not.”
He raked his hands over his dark blonde hair, his normally cool composure lost. “Is this because of the tunnels?”
“What?” Realization dawned on me, and I put my hand on his shoulder. “You did exactly as I asked you to. You got Sophie out of there. You were exactly where I needed you to be, and my gratitude is beyond words. You had no way of knowing that Ian was dirty. This is not on you.”
“You don’t trust me anymore,” he said so quietly I knew Sophie didn’t hear.
“Quite the opposite. You’re the only person I trust with her. You’re the only man she’ll willingly go with. I don’t want to know where you are, nor do I want you tell anyone else. I want you to take my little sister and disappear so well that our own security can’t find you, so Katherine can’t find you.”
His gaze dropped to Sophie and softened.
God, I was an asshole, but I exploited what I knew was there.
“Would you trust anyone else with her? Where you couldn’t find her? Couldn’t get to her if someone came after her, intent on killing her? Would you trust someone else to defend her? To protect her? To care for her night and day?”
“Damn it,” he seethed.
“Yeah, I know.”
His eyes flashed back to mine.
“I know,” I told him, my meaning clear. “You think you feel bad with Charlotte in that bed? Imagine it was Sophie. Imagine the hole was in her chest, her blood on your shirt.”
“I get your fucking point.”
“If you make me order you, I will. But I know you’ll do this, and not because I’m asking, but because she needs you. I’m giving you twenty-four hours to get everything in order and get her out of here.”
“Okay.” He glanced at Sophie, the war firmly raging in his eyes.
“Everything okay?” Sophie asked walking over to us. Fuck, how was he going to hide her? Even in simple slacks and a sweater, she emanated royalty. It was in the set of her shoulders, the arch of her neck, the graceful yet powerful way she held herself.
“Yeah. It’s going to be.” I pulled her in for a hug. “Listen to him. No matter what. No matter how pissed you are, or how unfair you think this is. You listen to him. Take care of him.”
“Okay,” she said, burying her face in my shoulder.
I placed a kiss on the top of her head and stepped back, knowing she had to go. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Don’t tell Mom, or Brie, or anyone. I’ll let them in once you’re gone.”
“I’ll see you...soon.” She nodded and walked out of the room, her head held high.
Oliver followed her.
“Oliver.”
He turned in the doorway.
“Please protect my little sister.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He bowed formally.
I stood there in the silence for a moment, the weight of what I’d done weighing heavier than my crown.
One woman I loved was fighting for her life in the next room.
One was headed to the states with my brother.
I’d just sent another into emergency exile for God knew how long.
That just left me Brie to take care of…
And the entire country of Elleston.
Before I could get back to Charlotte, Damian walked in, all business.
“Your Majesty.”
“Drop the bullshit, Damian.”
He smiled, but it was weary. “The Queen?”
“No change.”
He nodded. “We’ve searched both Ian’s apartment and Lady Katherine’s estate. All the plans were there. The bomb-making materials, all of it. It looks like we were right—they acted alone. We pulled the contacts off Ian’s cell phone just to confirm, but right now that’s where the investigation points. We’re still searching for Katherine, but as recognizable as she is, it shouldn’t be long. You may be facing a political threat, but the physical one has passed.”
I kept the threat on Sophie to myself.
“It’s over.”
“That’s what it looks like.”
“Thank you, Damian.”
He sighed, looking older than his thirty years. “I’m just sorry it happened in the first place.”
“I would say that you’re going to be a great King, but I think you already are.”
I nodded my thanks, words failing me, and left him for the only person who really mattered.
Charlotte.
Charlotte
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The incessant sound stung each cell in my body, which all were currently on fire yet my blood was freezing.
I scrunched my forehead in a desperate attempt to open my eyes, but they were heavier than the crown I’d had on moments ago.
Crown. Coronation. Bomb. Ian.
The beeping increased as I thrashed, something thick and heavy holding me down.
“Jaime!” I tried to scream, but it came out a raspy, pathetic plea.
“I’m here.” His voice filled my head, and a warm hand touched my cheek. “Charlie. God, I’m right here.”
Tears leaked from my closed eyes, the relief in my aching chest so much it hurt. I finally pried my lids apart, the bright light stinging my brain like an icepick through the eye.
Jaime stepped into the light, hovered right in front of my face, blocking out the brunt of the glare. His hair was a disheveled mess, more so than usual, his white button-down rumpled. Purple surrounded his left eye, and his bottom lip was split.
“Jaime,” I cried, trying to reach for his cheek but a searing pain ripped through my body so much I whimpered.
“Don’t move, baby,” he said, cupping my face with his hands. “I’m here. I’m okay. You’re okay. God, you’re okay.” Tears filled his eyes, and I’d never heard him so panicked in all my life.
“Ian. It was him. And his girlfriend—”
“Katherine. I know. We know,” he growled, his hands trembling as they held my face.
“Jaime,” I cried again. “I thought…when he took me down there. I didn’t know…I thought he was helping us—”
“We all did,” he said. “You couldn’t have known. No one could.”
“I thought I lost you,” I said, trying desperately to catch my breath.
He huffed out a tear-filled laugh. “You?” He shook his head. “God damn, Charlie. I saw him shoot you. I saw…” Something dark and twisted and primal coated his eyes, and I tried to move again, this time with my other arm I could manage it. I gripped his wrist.
“Is he…dead?”
He pressed his lips together.
“I’m sorry, Jaime. I’m so sorry.”
“Shush,” he cooed, kissing my lips, my eyes, my jaw. “You did nothing wrong.”
“I should’ve seen it,” I said. “He was my guard. I saw him with Katherine. I should’ve known somehow.”
“Stop it,” he demanded, pressing his forehead against mine. “The only people you can blame are those soulless pieces of shit who tried to take you away from me. They alone are responsible.”
I nodded against him, then a thought jolted my already pained body. “Xander? Sophie? Brie? Your mother?” the names spilled off my lips in a frantic hurry.
“They’re safe.”
“How many did we lose? Who did we lose?” I clenched my eyes shut. “Wait,” I said before he could answer. “Sit me up, Jaime. Please? I can’t lay down for this conversation.”
He looked like he was about to argue, but thought better of it. Two strong hands slid under my back, and he gently lifted me to a sitting position. He placed another pillow behind my back, and I finally got a good look around me.
Hospital. The beeping was from a machine connected to tubes and wires running across my body—which was draped in a terrible hospital gown that tied at the front. My chest was covered in gauze, red seeping through the middle above my right breast.
The sound of the gun going off echoed in my head, and the beeping on the machine went chaotic.
“Charlie,” Jaime shifted to sit next to me, never letting go of my hand. “Stay with me.”
The words he’d said before grounded me to him; connected me in a way that wouldn’t let my mind slip to the terror of what happened.
“I’m here,” I said. “Always.” I took a steadying breath, even that hurt like a mother. “Now, who did we lose? Oliver? Damian? Are they all right?” I asked, worried about his guard and the prime minister. Damian could’ve easily been a target as well as he led the procession.
“They’re both whole,” he said. “He covered me on the ground when the bomb went off, that’s how I lost my hold on you. And then once the smoke cleared from my eyes, I saw Ian dragging you to the tunnels. I ordered Oliver to go find Sophie and Brie, and Xander came with me to find you…” His entire body shook so much the bed trembled.
“Jamie,” I said, forcing his gaze back to me. “Stay with me.”
He nodded. “We lost the archbishop, all of his assisting members, half of our details, and eleven citizens.”
I closed my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks. “And Katherine?”
“She’s being hunted by every available security detail as we speak.” The muscle in his jaw ticked, but his touch was gentle as he traced his fingers over the back of my hand.
“I can’t believe we didn’t know they were anti-monarchists.”
“How could we?” He asked, looking as if he blamed himself.
“We couldn’t,” I quickly amended. “You’re right. There was no way of telling. Nothing turned up in either of their background checks.” I sighed, the stinging in my chest growing the longer I stayed in the sitting position.
Jaime leaned down, ever so gently kissing my lips. The heat from his kiss filled my broken heart with much-needed strength, and more tears rolled down my cheeks. “I love you,” he said against my lips. “God, I love you so much.”
“I love you,” I returned his gesture, kissing him more hurriedly, greedily.
I could’ve stayed there like that, kissing him despite the pain, but I knew there was no time to waste. Our people needed us. So I kissed him one more time and drew back to meet his eyes.
“There is much to do,” I said.
He nodded. “The first thing is for you to heal.”
I glanced down at my bandages, wondering just how long it would take, but in the end, knew it didn’t matter. “I will heal, and so will Elleston. Because we both know you’re here for us.”
He pressed his lips together, holding back a grin. “My Queen,” he said. “I’m never leaving your side again.”
I wetted my lips, sucking in a sharp, painful breath. And even though I knew it wasn’t true, I indulged him. “That’s good,” I said. “Because now it’s time to work. Together we will help Elleston heal, and we will right the wrongs of these terrorists.”
Pride flashed in his eyes. “Together.”
“Always.”
“We can face anything.”
I nodded. “Obviously.” I chuckled but winced as the pain rippled through my body.
Jaime smoothed his fingers through my hair. “Second thing—”
“Is to ensure that Sophie and Brie are secure,” I cut him off. I knew his focus was on me, but we needed to make sure his family was covered, too. I wasn’t the only one they’d set sights on.
He nodded. “Already done,” he said. “I ordered Mother to America, to stay with Xander and Willa, who should be safe enough overseas.”
“Good.” I nodded.
“And I put Oliver on Sophie.”
I arched a brow at him.
“He’s the best. And I know he’d die for her.” A knowing look flashed through his eyes, and I nodded again.
“You’re right,” I said, and was so happy we were on the same page.
“Oliver will hand-selected Brie’s detail. And our new replacement.”
“You’re amazing,” I said, smiling.
He tilted his head.
“You managed to handle every Kingly role as well as be by my bedside. I wouldn’t have been as strong if the roles were reversed.”
He laced our fingers togethe
r, shaking his head. “That isn’t true. If it were reversed, you would’ve managed to not only do everything I had, but also already organized the memorial, gotten the truth out of Katherine, and quite possibly prevented the entire event altogether.”
I flashed him a chiding look. “You know that isn’t hardly true—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he cut me off. “You’re here. You’re safe. My world is in this bed.”
I couldn’t imagine what he had to see, what he’d seen Ian do to me, and I hated that those images would never leave him, just as they would haunt me for the rest of my life. But we had each other, and that in the face of tragedy was what would take us into a brighter future.
“We’ll figure this out together like you said,” he said, squeezing my hand. “But now you need to rest.” He slipped his hands behind my back again, shifting me until I was laying as comfortably as my injury allowed. “Sleep,” he said, standing by the bed.
I sighed, gazing up at him, loving him more deeply than I ever had before. “Stay with me?” I asked.
He sank into the chair stationed right next to the bed, his hand never leaving mine. “Always.”
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About the Author
Samantha Whiskey is a wife, mom, lover of her dogs and romance novels. No stranger to hockey, hot alpha males, and a high dose of awkwardness, she tucks herself away to write books her PTA will never know about.
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