The Unknown Royal Heir

by Kimber Swan

  “Take her home.” Daniel says to Dante, still not speaking to me. He looks down at me briefly again then back to Dante. “I can’t do this with her here.”

  “No! If you’re going to be stupid enough and do this then I’m staying.” I yell pushing him in the chest.

  The words tumbling out of my mouth sound horrible to my own ears. I should be grateful he would step in and save us like this, but if something happens to him because of me I would never forgive myself. He has his family to think about.

  Finally, he speaks to me. “You don’t understand. You need to leave”

  “No!” I yell clinging to his arm, begging him to stay with me.

  “I don’t want you seeing me like this. There is much you don’t know. Please go.” He pushes me forcefully towards Dante saying, “Take her now.”

  Dante doesn’t argue just does as he is told. “Come on Daphne. Good luck.”

  “No!” I scream as Dante drags me away.

  I fight him like a hellcat.

  “Wait.” Dante lets me go. “Daphne, the last time we met you looked at me with such hatred. I can’t bear to see you afraid of me also. If you watch me fight that’s what’s going to happen. Please just go.”

  I run the short distance, wrapping my arms around his waist. He encloses me in his arms and kisses the top of my head. A torrent of angry tears roll uncontrollably down my face. I feel safe in his arms.

  “I’ll be by later. Wait up.” He says with fierce determination.

  He grabs a fistful of my hair tilting my head back. I gasp in shock at the rough handling. The kiss scorches my lips, leaving a permanent mark I’m sure. When he releases his grip, I feel the blood flow back, making me light headed.

  He whispers in my ear, “Later.”

  I nod absentmindedly.

  He turns, leaving without a backward glance. An odd sense of déjà vu overwhelms me. Dante pulls my hand roughly gaining my attention.

  “I told you not to move. Why did you have to move?” Dante scolds, pulling me along behind him.

  “I’m sorry. I needed to sit down. I didn’t know this would happen.” I whisper, not caring if he heard me or not.

  He pulls me to his side protectively as we near a large crowd of rowdy men. He strength is comforting despite the turmoil inside me.

  “I shouldn’t have brought you. This is my fault and the second time he has come to your rescue while on my watch.” He says trying to make me feel better. “Did you know he was going to be here?”

  “How could I have known? I haven’t spoken to him since our date.”

  “It’s scary how he shows up when you need him most, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah.”

  The Duke and I need to have a talk about his stalking tendencies, after I kick his ass for scaring me like this. I turn around once more, seeing Daniel’s retreat flanked by the two guys I noticed before.

  Tony announces the fighters.

  A dark shadow crosses Daniel’s grim set face as he enters the ring.

  The bell tolls, starting the fight, as the warehouse door closes behind us. My heart rate ricochets up a few beats either in fear for him and this fight or in anticipation of seeing him after the fight in my apartment where there is no escape for either of us.

  Chapter Six

  A few hours have passed since we left Daniel behind to deal with another problem I created. The decision is not sitting well with me. He is there because of me. The already threadbare carpet in the living room is being worn further from my non-stop pacing. There has been no word or message from him, not that I think he would have gotten me one anyway. My anxiety level has hit an all-time high despite the chamomile tea Dante brewed. Nothing will work until I see him and know he is not hurt.

  “What’s taking so long, Dante?” I ask nervously.

  “Daph, it has only been a little while.”

  The sympathy on his face changes to concern when he watches me bite my lower lip drawing blood. He returns from the kitchen handing me ice wrapped in a paper towel.

  “Sit.”

  I sit on the couch in a huff taking the ice and sucking on it through the paper towel. Dante sits next to me, taking my feet in his lap. He removes my shoes and starts rubbing my feet. Any other time, I would have loved this but I’m too wound up to enjoy anything right now.

  “Knowing Tony, it will be hard for Daniel to leave. Tony will try his damnedest to rope Daniel in.”

  “You aren’t helping take my mind off him. How much did you win before this happened?” I ask truly not caring about the money, taking my feet back.

  “Enough to either pay the private investigator fully or to be comfortable for a few months. It’s your choice.”

  The goal for him fighting tonight was to make enough for both. Now we have to choose. If only I stayed where I was this would not have happened but then, I wonder, would I have ever known Daniel was there? He is always where I need him, when I need him. How is that?

  “What do you think he was doing there? It can’t be a coincidence, can it?” I resume my pacing. “I mean he is always there when I need him. It’s like he has a homing beacon where I’m concerned.”

  “I think there is more to him then we know.” He grabs me by the shoulders to look him in the eyes. “How much do you really know about him?”

  “I’ve told you everything he’s told me. I don’t keep secrets from you.”

  Then I remembered I never told him exactly what Daniel said about the King. Dante is right there has to be something we’re missing.

  “Okay, what do we know? He is a Duke in some sovereign country we never heard of, whose parents were murdered? He is technically the next in line for the throne. Right?” He ticks them off on his fingers.

  “As far as I know.” I reply remembering all the conversations with Daniel.

  “Well, if he is the next in line to the throne, then where are his guards or whatever royalty has?” Dante inquires.

  “I don’t know. I never thought of that.” I reply. “But did you notice the two scary guys that approached Daniel when Tony arrived? Could they have been with him? Maybe I never noticed them before?

  “No, I didn’t. But then again I was more concerned about you to notice anything else.” He says thoughtfully. “Going back to your original statement about being there when you need him, why the interest in you?”

  “Gee, thanks.” I reply sarcastically.

  “His country has to have to some sort of CIA or FBI that he would be able to locate you.”

  “You’re making me feel even better. Now I’m thinking about people following me.”

  He looks at me sheepishly. “No offense, but the way he acts it’s as if you two have been dating for months instead of having one date that ended badly.”

  I shrug my shoulders.

  “Why? What happened?”

  “I don’t know. He said I reminded him of someone. That’s the only explanation I have.”

  “Let me think on it while I take a shower. I need to get this blood and stink off of me.” He lifts his sweaty shirt away from his body.

  “I’m going to change and try to watch some television.” I follow him down the short hallway to my room.

  “Try not to worry.” He says before kissing my forehead and disappearing in the bathroom.

  The piles of clean and dirty clothes blending together have overtaken my bedroom. I lose myself for a few minutes sorting the dirty pile into colors, darks, whites and folding the clean pile instead of watching television. Once my room is cleaned of clothing, I straighten and clean everything including dusting, which I hate. Another hour has passed and I feel less anxious, but a dirty, sweaty mess. I step out of my room, peek into Dante’s room to see him lying down in bed reading a magazine.

  “I’m going to take a shower. Keep an ear out.”

  “Of course. Take a long, hot one. It will help with the tension in your shoulders.” I open his door wider to make sure he can hear the door.

  The
hot water feels heavenly on my skin. The warmth cascades down my skin removing some of the chill. I quickly attend to my legs, underarms and other bits. The knock, though I half expected it, startles me.

  “Yeah?” I yell, turning off the water.

  “You have a visitor.” I quickly move the shower curtain aside so I can see Dante’ face. “He just got here.”

  I quickly squeeze my hair out and turn to see a towel being thrust through the curtain. The bathroom door closes as Dante steps in. I step out, wrapped tight in the towel.

  Dante continues. “He looks tired, Daph. And a little worse for wear.”

  “Thanks. Tell him I’ll be right out.”

  He leaves quickly as I rub my skin raw by drying it too rapidly and harshly. Less than five minutes later I am ready, but I need to take a deep calming breath before I face mister tall, dark, and mysterious.

  The hallway leading to the living room is short, but before you enter the living space you pass the kitchen. Dante is at the refrigerator as I turn the corner and I catch my first glimpse of Daniel sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Seeing him so unguarded touches something deep in me. I drink him in.

  I say a quick pray, thanking God for bringing him back to me safe and in one piece. Daniel looks up as if he hears my prayers or feels me watching him. In those few precious moments where time seems to stand still, words cannot explain what is wordlessly exchanged between us. He abruptly stands in time to catch me as I rush into his arms. He engulfs me in the safety of his strong arms and rests his cheek on top of my head. Any issues or apprehensions we may have had are lost in this embrace.

  I look at him grasping the sides of his face, trying to determine the full extent of his unseen injuries. We stare at each other for an interminable amount of time. Tension thickens the air between us. Daniel leans his head down for the sweetest kiss until Dante clears his voice from the kitchen entryway. I look back, embarrassed, to see Dante leaning against the door frame, smiling.

  “Sorry to interrupt.” Dante remarks, all previous animosity he had for Daniel forgotten.

  I take Daniel’s hand shyly, leading him to the couch hoping an explanation will follow shortly. Before sitting down, he removes a large stack of cash from his front pants pocket and places it on the coffee table. Dante and I look dumbfounded at each other than at the cash.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “Not much. I won.” He replies briefly looking at the cash, seeming to reflect on something. “That’s yours by the way.”

  A pin dropping on the floor is loud in this silence. Swallowing is difficult due to the lack of saliva in my mouth.

  “You won?” I ask dumbfounded. “How?”

  Daniel smiles at me fondly but when he tries to entwine our fingers he winces.

  “Can I get some ice?” He says to Dante then looks at his hand. “I love that you don’t see me as the hardened motherfucker I truly am. Sorry for the language.”

  I blanch at his statement.

  My eyes follow his, noticing for the first time the knuckles on his right hand are bruised, swollen and scraped. Dante returns with a bag of ice and frozen peas.

  “Your eye is starting to swell.” Dante gives me the ice. “The peas work great on the hand.”

  Daniel nods and Dante disappears into the kitchen again.

  “Hey.” Dante yells from the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Some water please.” Daniel replies.

  “Sure, no problem.” Dante answers.

  “What happened?” I ask again.

  He places his less swollen hand on my cheek in a tender gesture. His roughened thumb moves gently across my cheek then places it on my thigh where it stays as he starts the story.

  “I didn’t like someone placing their hands on you.” He says noncommittally.

  Intrigued by his remark, I ask, “How did you know I was there?”

  “I didn’t like the way our date ended, but I couldn’t find the right time to come by.” He replies.

  Inside I am doing a happy dance at his revelation but outwardly, I hope, I’m playing it cool.

  “You could have called?”

  “I could have, but I didn’t want to risk you hanging up on me. I finally decided to stop by tonight and be damned of how you might react. That’s when I saw you both leaving.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “You were dressed suspiciously, like you were hiding. I was curious to see where you were going, if you were… meeting someone.” He hesitates.

  Meeting someone?

  “You thought I was meeting a guy?” My brow quirks in astonishment. “So what if I was? It became none of your business when you wouldn’t answer my questions. But I don’t want to talk about that now.”

  “I didn’t know what to think. I mean… You’re right, I have no claim to you, but I had to see.” He pauses. “Then you arrived at that place…. To say I was more curious and somewhat angry would be down playing it.”

  Dante walks in with water for Daniel and tea for me.

  “What were you thinking taking her to a place like that?” He questions Dante, quietly irritated.

  “Look. I’m indebted to you twice now for saving her, but you have no right to question us on how we live our lives. I appreciate your concern for her well-being, but don’t think that gives you a pass. I don’t think you’ve been honest with her. There is more to you than you’ve told her. Now would be as good a time as ever to start explaining.”

  I am proud of how Dante handled himself. Not only did he thank Daniel and control his own anger, but he also drew a line in the sand. All in a neat, polite package.

  After a couple of minutes, Daniel answers. “You’re right.”

  “Good, now I’m going to bed. You two have a lot to talk about.” Dante kisses me on the top of the head, then whispers, “I’m right in the other room if you need me.”

  I nod, knowing I won’t need him. Once Dante leaves the room, the air feels charged once again. Daniel is looking down at his hands. When neither of us speaks for a few moments, I look at him and realize my burning ears are due to him staring at me.

  At a loss of what to say I mumble, “Do you want anything? I mean-. Are you hungry? We have a lot of Thanksgiving left overs.”

  He cocks his head to the side, smirking.

  “Thanksgiving dinner? Isn’t that in two days?”

  I giggle either at his confusion or because anxiety has gotten the best of me.

  “It is, but Dante and I celebrate it on the day we escaped the Johnson’s house. That is the day we are most thankful for. It also allows our friends who we work with to celebrate the actual day with their families.”

  “I see. That’s nice of you two.”

  “It works out best for everyone.” I sigh. “So, you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Silence.

  A few more minutes pass.

  “Any time now.” I say a little irritated by the foreboding silence.

  More silence and now it’s killing me.

  “Fine, don’t tell me.” I start to stand, but he places a hand on my forearm. “Look, I get it. You don’t want to tell me. I understand, but you can’t keep doing this. I feel like a yo-yo.”

  He laughs mirthlessly.

  “You’re right. It’s just…. I don’t know how you’ll react.”

  “The only way either of us can know is if you tell me.”

  “After my parents were murdered and I made sure my siblings were safe, I dropped off the face of the earth.” He says surprising me because he doesn’t seem like the type to abandon his duty. “I knew everything would be taken care of, the estate, the King, my family. I was so angry with the people who killed my parents and knowing we couldn’t prove it made the anger unbearable. I started lashing out at the wrong people.”

  I know the feeling well.

  “I disappeared and met a few people who didn’t know me. It felt freeing. I changed my name to James
Malcolm. My real name, you see, is Daniel James Alexander Ashbrooke. My mother’s maiden name was Malcolm.”

  “Oh.”

  “These people I met introduced me to fighting. But these fights, they were in the underground fighting rings across Europe. Similar to the one tonight. They taught and trained me well. I fought hard and was good at it. It was the perfect outlet for the anger. I could unleash it without consequence. I sunk deep into that life. I never knew if I would see daylight again. At the time, I didn’t want to.”

  Dante taught me how to defend myself after he rescued me one night. Feeling helpless made me angry. He took me to the gym he worked at and had me hitting the punching bag. Eventually, he had me sparring with him. It helped to relieve the pressure and tension.

  “The fighting eventually became boring when the challenge was gone. No one could beat me or they were afraid to be in the ring with me, so I left it and started racing fast cars and motorcycles.” He pauses thinking, again looking at our hands.

  I noticed he hesitated when speaking of the fighters being afraid of him.

  “Why were they afraid of you?” I ask.

  “One night during a match, I killed someone.”

  That was the last thing I expected him to say. Stunned is an understatement to what I’m feeling. There had to be some underlying cause for the fighter’s death.

  “How?” I try keeping my reaction neutral.

  “We were equally matched. I hadn’t had someone that equally matched in a while. I was getting tired and the match was tied. He punched me good. I fell to my knees disorientated. When he came at me, I went to upper cut him, but hit him square in the chest. He dropped to his knees and I took advantage of it. It took the referee a couple of minutes before he realized what happened. I was still too disoriented to realize he wasn’t defending the blows I was raining down on him. The ref had to get me off him. That’s when they started CPR, but it was too late. That was one of my last fights.”