by Seven Steps
Jeff: Please come to the warehouse. I’m alone and Able’s in trouble.
Able in trouble? I had to help him. No matter how crappy I was feeling, I had to help Able if I could. And the fact Jeff was alone, i.e. sans Ollie or Jean, made the decision even easier.
In a flash, I was out of bed, pulling on my jeans and boots.
What could be wrong with Able? Was he hurt? If so, why didn’t Jeff call an ambulance instead of me? Maybe it was something to do with the virtual tag? Maybe they were getting arrested? I had no idea what the situation could be, but I did know I had to get to them, and soon.
My heart hammered in my chest as I pulled on my coat and my boots, grabbed my keys, and ran out of the house. My hair was a mess and I wasn’t wearing any makeup, but I didn’t have time for those things now. I had to get to Able and help out in any way I could.
He’d always been my friend and he deserved that.
It took forty minutes before I could get to Red Hook. In that time, Jeff didn’t answer any of my calls or texts. Maybe they were already gone? Maybe whatever had happened had gotten worse? But what could have happened?
I pulled to a stop in front of the hideout and flew through the open first floor, ran up the stairs, and burst through the door only to find…
To find…
Jeff and Ollie, sitting around the virtual tag table, perfectly calm and laughing, drinking beers.
There was no sign of Able and neither of them looked particularly concerned.
What was going on? Had Ollie sent that message in some twisted way to get me to talk to him?
I walked in, scanning the room for anything that looked out of place.
“Hey, she’s here!” Jeff said, throwing his arms up.
Ollie chuckled. His unfocused eyes and hunched shoulders screamed that he was drunk.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Where’s Able?”
“Able?” Jeff looked in confusion from me, to Ollie. “What do you mean?”
“I got your text that Able was in trouble and he needed my help.”
“Oh, that text? Well, Able’s not here.”
I frowned. “Where is he?”
He shrugged. “Oh, Princess. You have much bigger things to worry about.”
“Like —”
I froze, as a shiny, gray gun was pointed in my face.
“Like how you are going to say your goodbyes.”
He shook the gun in Ollie’s direction.
“Over there, Princess.”
My brain struggled to keep up. Jeff was pointing a gun at me? Why? We were supposed to be friends. Why would Jeff threaten me?
At a turtle’s pace, I put my hands in the air and sidestepped over to Ollie. Fear weakened my knees, but I managed to stay upright.
“What are you doing, Jeff?” Ollie asked, half chuckling. “Put the gun away.”
The gun trailed me until I stood next to Ollie.
“Well, well, well. You two should be commended. You fell perfectly into my trap.”
“Trap?” I asked. “What trap?”
“Why, the trap to kill the future King of Iyaria once and for all.”
66
Future king?
I’d heard the words, but I couldn’t believe them. Ollie was no king.
He couldn’t be a king.
Could he?
“Don’t do this, Jeffrey,” Ollie whispered. His words were less slurred now as he struggled to sober up. “Leave her out of his.”
“Oh, but I can’t. She was integral to my plan. She’s a pretty girl, Ollie. You have great taste. Too bad I’ll have to kill her. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure she doesn’t suffer.”
“Why are you doing this, Jeff?” I asked. “I thought we were friends.”
Jeff smiled. “We were friends, Princess. Rest assured this is nothing personal. It’s an old score that will be settled momentarily.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Let me spell it out for you. Dear old Dad fathered me and Ollie in the same week. The same week. The queen was devastated, but my mom was a planner. A thinker. A month before we were born, she had Ollie’s mother murdered. Then the king married her. I would have been next in line for the throne, but Ollie unfortunately managed to survive. And I’ve been trying to kill him ever since. So much so that Dad sent us to America to stop the repeated assassination attempts. The heir to escape, and the spare to watch over him, along with our two guards of course. If only he knew.”
“So, this whole time you were the one trying to kill me?” Ollie growled.
Jeff pretended to think a moment. “Yes, brother. All along it was me. I was thrilled when father sent us away. It meant that I could kill you without a million guards over my shoulder. Not right away, of course. That would’ve been too obvious. Plus, our bodyguards were always around. I had to bide my time. Then, you came along and provided me the perfect solution. You see, when the cops find you, they’ll think it’s a murder suicide. Then, with you two out of the way, I’ll be next in line for the throne. A simple plan, and it’s all thanks to you, Princess. I’ll be sure to thank you at my inauguration.”
My head was spinning.
There was no way that Jeff’s story could be true.
Was there?
Ollie wasn’t a crowned prince.
His mother wasn’t murdered.
“Ollie, is this true? Are you a prince?”
Ollie looked at me, his eyes full of regret. “Yes.”
I gasped. “But why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted you to love me for who I was. Not for my crown.”
I turned back to Jeff and his gun.
This all made sense now.
Ollie never getting in trouble for his bad behavior.
Mr. Mann handling him with kid gloves.
His seemingly endless stream of money.
The way everyone deferred to him.
Why he never told me how his mother died or what his father did for a living.
Ollie was a future king. And Jeff, his brother, had been secretly trying to kill him for the past sixteen years. My gut rolled. I thought I’d puke right then and there.
“So, you’re the one who forced Jean to kiss me?” Ollie asked.
Jeff smiled. “Didn’t take much. A little kiss here, a promise there, and she was putty in my hands. Did you know she wanted to be a ballet dancer when she was a kid? Funny, the dreams we have as children.”
“Where is she?”
“Long gone,” Jeff said. “Probably somewhere in South America or Africa or Asia by now. Who knows.”
“Jeff, please,” I begged. “He’s your brother.”
“He’s my competition.”
“Please, Jeff,” Ollie said, standing between Jeff and me. “You can kill me, but please let Jasmine go. She has nothing to do with this.”
“I can’t do that. Loose ends and all that.”
“Please, Jeff. I’m begging you.”
Jeff smirked. “Kneel.”
“What?”
“Kneel before your king, and I’ll consider it.”
“Jeff.”
“Kneel!”
Ollie’s chin tightened. A glare of hatred passed between the brothers.
Slowly, Ollie bent one knee. Then the other, his eyes never leaving Jeff’s.
Jeff cackled. “Iyaria would have never accepted such a weak king anyway.”
A shot rang out.
I closed my eyes and screamed, waiting for the pain.
Waiting for death.
But there was nothing.
I cracked my eyes open and looked around.
Jeff was still there, gun drawn, angrily looking down while Ollie was at his feet, gasping for air. A plume of blood made his shirt stick to his once perfect body.
“Ollie!” I screamed, rushing forward and cradling his head in my hands.
“Jasmine, run!” he squeezed out.
“No, I won’t leave you!”
Jeff’s gun
trained onto me.
“Say goodbye, brother.”
“Jasmine, please go.”
“No!”
“Freeze. Police.”
Flashlights searched the inside of the room, quickly landing on us.
Jeff’s eyes went wide, and he roared in rage.
“No! No, this wasn’t supposed to happen!”
“Put your hands behind your head! Don’t move,” the policeman said.
Jeff turned back to us, his gun shaking.
“I’ll finish you first,” he said. His eyes were wild.
“Put your hands on your head or we will shoot,” the policeman cried again.
Jeff hesitated, deciding whether to kill us or comply with the police.
He glared at us.
I prayed.
Ollie clutched at his bleeding chest and gasped for air.
“Last warning,” the policeman said.
Jeff gave us one last hateful look. Then, he dropped the gun and skidded it across the floor.
I let out a breath, then started screaming.
“Help, please! He’s bleeding! Please help him!”
An officer ran forward and placed his hand on Ollie’s chest. Then he snatched his radio from his shoulder.
“We need an EMT, now.”
Someone grabbed me, pulling me to my feet before slapping handcuffs around my wrists.
I screamed Ollie’s name.
Ollie screamed mine.
But no one listened.
My worst fear had just come true.
I was now officially a criminal. And I had the handcuffs to prove it.
67
I’d been in holding for less than an hour when my mom and dad showed up and I was released, with a promise to appear in court.
Apparently, the police had been trying to track down the RATZ since they picked up Jean. After seeing her face appear on several street cameras, they’d backtracked her to the hideout.
It was just in time.
“Jasmine, what were you thinking? Graffitiing the city? What was going on in your mind?” my mother demanded.
We were in Mom’s car, in route back to our apartment.
“I need to go to the hospital!” I cried.
“Oh no, young lady,” my father said. “You are going straight home and to your room. We will talk about this tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait until tomorrow. I need to go to the hospital right now.”
“You should be glad if we are going to let you leave the house ever again,” Mom said. “I have half a mind to ship you back to India to correct your behavior.” She turned around in her chair. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to get dragged out of bed to get our daughter out of prison? Do you know how much we’ll have to pay to keep this from the press?”
“Look. I’m sorry I snuck out. But I have to find Ollie. I have to make sure he’s okay.”
“Young lady, you are never to speak to that Ollie again. Do you hear me?”
I glared at her. “I can’t do that.”
“You will do that.”
“No. You can’t treat me like some delinquent.”
“You are a delinquent. You have a criminal record now. Do you understand what that means?”
“I don’t have time to listen to this!”
The car pulled to a stop at a light, and I flung the door open and ran across the street.
I heard the car horn and my parents screaming behind me, but I didn’t stop. I was going to find that hospital and make sure Ollie was okay and no one on earth was going to stop me.
Not even my parents.
68
It took three trains, but I finally made it to New York General Hospital.
But making it there was very different from making it inside.
Black stretch cars and men in black suits with ear pieces sat outside of the hospital.
“I’m sorry, young lady,” the nurse at reception said. “Unless you’re here for an emergency, visiting hours aren’t until ten a.m.”
“But my friend is inside. I have to see him.”
“I’m sorry, you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
“But—”
“I’m very sorry.”
I frowned and turned away, stuffing my hands into my hoody.
Ollie was in the hospital alone, and it was all my fault. And now, I couldn’t even see him.
My chest tightened in frustration as I walked back through the lobby, toward the door.
Suddenly, a large boy ran in.
Able.
“Able. Wait.”
I tried to grab him, but he pushed me off, continuing on as if I hadn’t been there at all.
Tears were in his eyes and two of the black suited men ran behind him. They all fit into the elevator and I saw him break down before the doors closed.
What did it all mean?
Was Ollie okay?
69
It was Monday morning. An entire twenty-four hours since I’d heard anything about Ollie or Jeff.
There was nothing about the shooting online nor on the news.
I’d tried calling and texting Ollie and Able, but nothing was ever answered.
Finally, in an act of desperation, I went to Mr. Mann before first period.
A few men I’d never seen before in black suits stood by the door. But there was no time to wonder who they were. I needed information.
“Mr. Mann’s in a meeting right now,” his new secretary, Mrs. Cathy, said. “He may be a while.”
It didn’t matter how long it took. I needed to know how Ollie was and I was sure Mr. Mann knew something. At this point, I’d take any information I could get.
“I’ll wait,” I said, going to sit in one of the chairs.
I tapped my fingers against my thighs, my eyes willing Mr. Mann’s door to open.
The last things we’d said to each other were angry, bitter words. The last time I’d seen Ollie, he was covered in blood, barely clinging to life. If something happened to him, I would never forgive myself. Last times shouldn’t be such sad memories.
I bit my lip, saying a little prayer that Ollie was okay.
I wanted him to be okay.
I needed him to be okay.
Because I was in love with him.
I don’t know when or where, but somewhere along the way, I’d fallen in love with Ollie. That was why it hurt so much when I saw Jean kiss him. That was why I’d screamed those things at him on the night of Battle of the Bands. I felt so betrayed because I was in love with him.
And now, he may never know.
I put my head down in my hands and pressed my thumbs to my temples, willing myself to calm down.
That was when the door to Mr. Mann’s office creaked open.
My head shot up, and I watched as Mr. Mann walked out, looking very much grieved, followed by a man in an ornate, navy blue uniform full of metal buttons, tassels on his shoulders, and red and gold stitching down the side.
Behind him was Ollie.
But he looked so different that I was momentarily frozen.
Ollie was wearing the same navy uniform as the man who walked out before him. He was clean, and his hair was brushed back. And, for once in his life, his shoes were spotless. His arm was covered in a clean white sling.
He looked as handsome as I’d ever seen him.
It all made sense now.
Everything made sense.
Ollie was royalty. A prince. That was what he didn’t want to tell me. That was his secret.
I stood and approached him.
My emotions were so mixed up I could barely breathe.
Relief that he was alive.
Anger at him for not telling me his secret.
Confusion over which parts of him were real and which parts of him were lies.
“Ollie,” I called.
The men in black immediately went for their guns, waiting to see if I would threaten him, but right now, my only weapons were my words.
Ollie fr
oze, but the man in front of him didn’t.
He stepped forward, eyeing me as if I were a very big beetle who’d landed on his shoulder.
“Oliver, who is this girl?”
“Father, this is Jasmine Patel,” Ollie said.
Father? This was Ollie’s father? As in the King of Iyaria.
Should I bow? Shake his hand? Curtsy?
Before I could decide on which one, the king took another step toward me.
“Were you the one who made my son paint on walls?” he demanded. He was a hard man. Everything from the sharp cut of his beard to his examining eyes told of that. I could see why Ollie would call him the meanest person he’d ever met.
“No, sir.”
He hmphed, then turned to his son.
“It’s a good thing you’re going home, Oliver. I sent you here to learn and to grow and to be safe. Instead, I find that you’re a criminal and you and your brother are trying to kill each other. You’re better off back in Iyaria.”
My eyes widened.
“Are you leaving?” I asked.
Ollie nodded once. His brows and lips were pushed down, his fingers clutched behind his back.
“Jeff’s already there, awaiting trial. I’m to follow him home in three days.”
Three days? What about the mural? What about the virtual tag? He couldn’t!
“But you can’t leave. It’s the—”
“Oliver, we are leaving,” his father bellowed.
Ollie looked at me sorrowfully. It broke my heart.
“I have to go. Goodbye, Princess.”
And then he was gone, following his father out the door, and out of my life.
Forever.
70
Things had come to a head, and I felt my life moving around me while I stood still.
Mom had placed me on house arrest. I would get all my classwork and homework in emailed packets from the teachers, and all outside guests had to be approved. It didn’t help that the mural and my application for the summer internship were all due next week. Plus, Ollie was leaving the country in three days. I’d probably never see him again. And the virtual tag? With Jeff, Ollie, and Jean gone, who knew if that would ever happen.
Not that it mattered.