“I’ll just say goodbye,” Asher said to his mother.
“He’s asleep. Let’s come back in a few hours,” she said.
Asher didn’t argue. He was ready for some food, clothes that fit, and a few hours of sleep.
“I can’t believe he fell,” she said quietly as they walked through the hospital.
“Neither can I,” Asher said darkly.
Abi
Abi sat across from her mother, cradling the cup of tea between her hands.
“What’s going on, Abi?” her mother, Emma, asked.
Abi raised her eyebrows. “Can’t I have coffee with my mother without something going on?”
Emma laughed. “Any of my other daughters, yes. You, no. You don’t sit still long enough for a lazy chat.”
Abi gave a lopsided grin, choosing her words carefully. “I need help with something . . . something neither Father nor you are going to like, I assume.”
Emma frowned. “Abi,” she said, taking a seat. “What is it? You know you can always talk to me.”
“I have somehow gotten myself into a situation that I don’t know how to fix,” Abi said. She placed her palms on the table. “I needed official contacts for IFRT. I need clearances and assistance for the team at blockades and borders. Civilian passes take too long and are often denied. We bribe who we can to get through, but sometimes the officials won’t take our bribes.”
Emma’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure how I can help you with this.”
“We’ve been working with Prince Asher,” Abi said, bracing herself.
Emma’s jaw all but hit the kitchen table, and her eyes doubled in size. “Abi,” she whispered in horror, as if Abi had just stabbed her in the heart with a knife. Her eyebrows threaded together. “He agreed to help you?”
“Well, he agreed to help Abi and IFRT. He doesn’t know who I am. He doesn’t know my surname is Bennett.”
Emma shook her head, looking at her coffee. “If you came here for my advice, listen to me very carefully. He’s close to his father, Abi—as close as he will ever be; the King is not overly warm to anyone except the Queen. But from everything I know about Asher, he will not take it well that you deceived him.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Abi said heavily.
Emma pursed her lips. “Then why doesn’t he know your name?”
“Because I don’t want to risk this stupid feud between our fathers negatively impacting IFRT. Asher’s involvement means I can save more lives—save the people who have no one else to save them.”
Emma sighed, tipping her head back. “It’s not as simple as that, Abi. Involving Prince Asher is concerning on multiple levels. It’s not just the rivalry of your father and King Martin; Asher has political obligations. If this is leaked to Santina’s neighbors—”
“It was Asher’s choice,” Abi said. “He knows the risks he’s taking, and he thought them worthwhile. I didn’t force it upon him.”
“I know, and I’m not suggesting that,” Emma said quickly. “But I’m not sure he thought this through properly.”
Abi disagreed. She thought Asher had given this plenty of consideration, especially given that he’d failed to attend the first meeting they’d scheduled. It had been months before he’d confirmed to meet again—but Abi didn’t want to get into that.
“What is the feud about?” Abi asked, not surprised when her mother stood to leave, indicating the conversation was over.
“I thought we could talk about anything,” Abi remarked pointedly.
“Abi, don’t push this,” Emma said, her words terse.
“Why?” Abi asked, standing. “Why? No one understands what this is about, and why should we pay the consequences?” Abi was almost yelling, and she immediately regretted losing control of her composure.
Emma tilted her head, her eyes piercing. “Why should we pay the consequences? Our families are not paying the consequences. The King and your father reached a mutually beneficial arrangement. Your father continues business pursuits as he pleases, and they each stay out of the other’s way.”
Abi sighed, not meeting her gaze. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Abi,” Emma said, drawing out her name. It was a warning laced with panic. “Do not tell me . . .”
Abi didn’t answer, her gaze diverting to the Van Gogh painting on the living room wall. Abi still didn’t know why her father hadn’t donated it to a museum, but she couldn’t focus on that right now.
Emma buried her hands in her face. “This isn’t going to end well, Abi.”
“I need to find a way to fix this feud,” Abi said flatly.
When she finally returned her gaze to her mother, Abi wasn’t prepared to find the pain she saw in her eyes.
“Do you think I haven’t tried? That the Queen hasn’t tried? Everything we have ever done to heal their wounds has failed. You can’t fix this, Abi. I can’t fathom a single event that would cause your father and the King to so much as speak to each other. Whatever dreams you have about reconciling our families are just that—dreams. Tell Asher, because he’s taking a lot of risks by helping IFRT, and he won’t be pleased you haven’t been honest with him,” she said sharply, before turning to leave the room—but Abi didn’t miss her glistening eyes.
“Tell me what happened!” Abi demanded as her mother was halfway to the door.
Emma came to a stop, paused, and then turned back to Abi. “It is your father’s story to tell. I promised him I would never speak of it to our family.” She shook her head. “Neither the King nor your father will let this go. What happened has been buried, and it’s best if it stays buried.”
Abi’s phone rang in her pocket. She was going to ignore the call until she saw Asher’s name.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hey,” Asher said, his voice smooth and enticing.
“Hi,” she said, colder than she wanted to, but she felt her mother’s eyes on her.
“I’ll talk to you later,” she whispered to her mother as she escaped the room.
“Do you want me to call you back?” Asher asked quickly.
“No, no. I was just talking to my mom about something.” About our families.
“Hm. Well, by the tone of your voice, I assume it wasn’t a great conversation,” Asher said.
“She didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear,” Abi admitted.
Asher laughed. “Parents are good for that. I also got a talking to today. Apparently my father was informed of our ruins tour last night.”
Abi’s blood flushed cold and she almost dropped the phone—but then she realized Asher didn’t sound pissed off.
She cleared her throat. “I take it he wasn’t impressed.”
Asher chuckled. “I would say he was more unimpressed that I didn’t have a security team with me. And he asked me why I was sopping wet when we left.”
Abi cringed, but Asher laughed heartily. “That was awkward to explain,” he said, still laughing.
“So the guard reported us then?” Abi asked.
“Actually, I’m not sure. He didn’t ask much about you, and he seemed more confused than angry, to be honest, so I think he assumed it was only me who was wet, and he couldn’t understand how that had happened.”
“Doesn’t he know his adventurous son loves diving into swimming holes in the middle of the night?” Abi asked, seeing it in her mind all over again—seeing Asher’s white shirt clinging to his ripped abdomen. It was a sight she wasn’t going to forget.
“It’s probably best he doesn’t know. Anyway, what are you doing tonight?” Asher asked. “I want to see you again.”
Abi squeezed her eyes shut as her conversation with her mother invaded her thoughts.
“I want to see you too,” Abi said, despite herself. “Can I confirm shortly? I may have a meeting for IFRT.”
She paused. “How is Noah?” she finally asked, feeling bad she hadn’t asked as soon as she’d answered the call. She’d been lost in her own problems.
“He’s okay,” Asher sai
d, his mood suddenly somber. “He’s in a fair bit of pain, but he’s on good meds. He’s home now, and he’ll be okay in time.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Abi said—but something in Asher’s tone told her things weren’t so simple.
Asher
Asher smiled, already looking forward to his evening. He was mentally planning where to take Abi when Alistair walked into his office.
“Hey, I just heard about Noah. I went to see him but Jesse said he’s sleeping,” Alistair said.
Asher searched his eyes, scared of what he might find. “The pain meds they’re giving him are very strong, so he’s in and out of consciousness.” Asher paused, wondering how far to push his brother. “Where have you been all day?”
Alistair shrugged. “Out. Why?”
Asher could think of a million reasons why it mattered. He shrugged too, giving Alistair as much as he was receiving. “Mother has been trying to reach you. Jesse told me you’d left the palace shortly before Noah’s fall.” Asher wanted to give him an out, to see how he responded—but there was no change in Alistair’s demeanor.
“Can’t I go anywhere without leaving a detailed itinerary?” he asked with a strong dose of attitude.
“You’re the crown prince,” Asher reminded him.
“Yeah, lucky me. The journalists get to judge me daily, women want to fuck me hoping they’ll become a queen, and I get to inherit the kingdom’s problems while that same kingdom wants someone else to be crown prince.” Alistair glared at Asher and turned on his heels.
It took Asher a second for the shock to wear off. He knew Alistair was referencing the newspaper article about the protests.
“You could’ve answered my call, Alistair,” Asher called out to him. “You could’ve thought to support father and go to the protests without my invitation. Don’t blame me for that.”
Alistair turned back to him. “What do you think Father will say about IFRT, Prince Asher? Aiding a group that kills people to rescue others? How deep does your loyalty run?” he asked, his voice scathing.
Asher met his brother’s gaze, and neither brother backed down.
How does Alistair know about IFRT? And is he implying he knows Abi killed the two men on the side of the road? Asher suppressed a shiver.
The Queen emerged from the hallway, not missing the showdown between her sons.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked, her eyes darting between her two children.
“No,” Alistair said without looking at her. He turned and walked away.
The Queen eyed Asher. “Tell me what that was about.”
“Nothing,” Asher said, shaking his head. He barely knew Alistair anymore. They hadn’t been close, but they’d always gotten along. It was only over the past few years they’d started clashing. But overnight, it seemed to Asher, that clashing had morphed into hatred—at least on Alistair’s part.
His mother looked at him expectantly, but Asher’s mind was still reeling. How would Alistair have that information?
“I don’t think he wants to be crown prince,” Asher said.
She didn’t look surprised by this admission, and Asher assumed she’d come to the same conclusion. “It doesn’t matter what he wants. It is his responsibility, and like every crown prince for the past few hundred years, he will adapt. Alistair is a good person when he’s not trying to be a pain in the ass.”
The corner of his lips turned up. “He’s your son. You have to say that.”
The Queen laughed, shaking her head. “No, I don’t. Not to you.” She took Asher’s forearm, leading him to the kitchenette of Asher’s living quarters. “So please do tell me more about this woman you were with.”
Asher rolled his eyes. “Seriously, do the security guards have nothing else to do but gossip?”
The Queen smirked. “It’s because your private life is such a secret. If you were more like Alistair, no one would care about who you were with.”
Asher scoffed. “Don’t encourage me,” he said.
The Queen smiled. “I don’t worry about you. I’ve never had to—” She paused when her mobile phone rang. “Jesse?” she answered.
A moment later her face washed white. “No!” she screamed, her eyes wide, staring at Asher. “No, no, no!”
She started running.
Asher’s heart was in his throat, and he sprinted after her. He couldn’t think straight. He’d never seen his mother like this: stricken with gut-wrenching fear. He saw it in her eyes. Somewhere in his conscious thoughts, Asher had expected her to run to his father’s office. But she barged into Noah’s room before Asher had a second to realize.
Her blood-curdling cry brought him to a halt. Asher took one look at Jesse, who couldn’t meet his gaze.
Asher felt cold; he couldn’t move his feet. He heard his mother weeping hysterically, and he sensed death before he knew it for sure.
Suddenly Asher was walking, one foot in front of the other, but his mind was still refusing to acknowledge the truth. He stepped over the threshold of no return, and saw his mother cradling Noah in her arms, rocking him back and forth.
Asher’s emotions hit him all at once, and he turned to Jesse in a blind range. “What the fuck happened?”
“I don’t know,” Jesse said in a rush. “No one entered the room; I was right outside all afternoon, and the team was covering when I took my break . . .” He looked away, unable to finish the sentence. His eyes were wet, and his reaction cooled Asher’s temper—but only a fraction. “Check the cameras! Find out who came into this room last. Where’s Alistair?” Asher snapped as his brother emerged.
“What’s going on?” Alistair asked, his eyebrows threading together.
He peered through the door. “What’s—”
“Noah . . . passed,” Jesse said with a choked voice.
Confusion—and something else—flashed across Alistair’s face. “What do you mean? He was okay a few hours ago.”
“His death will be investigated,” Jesse said, his voice clearer.
It took Alistair a minute to understand—and then his eyes doubled in size as he turned to Asher. “That’s why you were asking where I was. You can’t seriously think . . . Fuck you, Asher!” Alistair stormed off.
Asher shook his head, unable to deal with his brother right now.
“Put the palace on lockdown. No one leaves—including Alistair,” Asher said.
He stepped inside Noah’s room and closed the door behind him. He forced himself to look at Noah’s face, wet with the Queen’s tears. Asher’s throat swelled and he had trouble breathing. But his mother’s grief was more important than his own, and he stepped beside her, taking the weight of Noah’s limp body into his arms.
She inhaled a shuddered breath and collapsed forward, sobbing into the sheets. Tears ran from Asher’s cheeks as he lowered Noah onto the pillow. He took Noah’s hand and his mother’s as he kneeled on the floor by the bed.
I’m so sorry, Noah. I will find out who did this. I will make them pay for this. I love you. You will always be my brother.
Why Noah?
Why?
Asher felt a strong hand on his shoulder, and it took him a minute to realize it was his father’s. He wiped his tears, but his eyes welled again the moment he saw his father’s wet eyes. His face crumpled as he looked at Noah.
“I don’t understand,” the Queen said. “He was okay. How can he be dead?”
“Because someone murdered him,” Asher said through gritted teeth. His parents’ heads snapped toward him.
“What?” his father demanded.
“Noah didn’t fall down the stairs, he was pushed. He remembered it clearly. I’ve had full security on him since. I put Jesse in charge,” Asher said.
“Asher, you should’ve come to me—” his father said, not stopping himself in time—but Asher already knew what he was going to say.
Asher should’ve told him. But what would his father have done besides tell Jesse to increase security?
Jesse
had run their security for nearly thirty years. He’d been the King’s bodyguard until he’d requested reduced hours to spend more time with his family. He’d then been assigned to Asher, who until recently spent most of his time in the palace with Noah.
His father left the room and came back with Jesse, who started talking the minute the door closed. “Your Majesty, I take full responsibility for this. I will find out who is responsible.”
“So you agree with Asher? This is foul play?” the King asked.
“I was in the room with him a few hours ago, and he was comfortable and resting. An autopsy should be requested,” Jesse said quietly. “I’ve reviewed the security-camera footage of the time I went on break. No one entered the room. But when I came in to check on him . . .” He shook his head.
The King raised a shaking hand to his chest. “Have an autopsy done immediately. Asher, take your mother to her room. Give me a few minutes with Jesse.”
“I’m not leaving him,” the Queen said through her tears, bringing Noah’s hand to her lips.
Somehow Asher managed to think through the fog and drag a chair to the bedside for his mother. He closed Noah’s eyes, kissed his forehead, and walked from the room.
Asher heard footsteps behind him and saw his father and Jesse following. Asher walked to the living quarters he shared with Noah and into the living room. He closed the door, leaving his palms against it and letting his head hang. Sobs he could no longer control choked his throat. He couldn’t imagine life without Noah. He felt like he was dying.
Asher didn’t know how long he stood there, but when his back ached and his legs grew weary, he moved to the couch. He wanted to do something, but he knew his father would sort this out—and today, more than ever, he was glad he didn’t have to handle this. He wasn’t strong enough. He wanted to pretend Noah wasn’t dead; he wanted to take back the last few hours. He hadn’t been there for Noah when he’d needed him the most.
Footsteps stopped at his door and Asher paused. For the first time, he considered something he should’ve considered an hour ago: maybe Noah wasn’t the only one in danger.
Blood, Love and Lies Page 11