Charity

by Briscoe, Laramie

  I look over at my girls. Both of them look scared to death. They need to know they’re mom is going to be okay. “No, we’ve got this. She’ll want to see them, and they’ll want to see her.”

  We hustle out to Charity’s SUV, and I make sure everyone is buckled in, even though it’s literally across the street. With the way my nerves are right now, there’s no telling what could happen.

  “Dad?” I hear Harley.

  “Yeah?”

  Looking back at her in the rearview, I see her lip tremble, see Justice comforting her sister. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do this. I just wanted Starbucks, and I had money Papa had given me.”

  Part of me wants to lay into her, but I’ve done the same shit before. She gets it honest. It took me being completely scared to death, to learn my mom really did know what was best.

  "I don't blame you, Harley. I don't. I did the same shit as a kid, but I need you to know when we say things; it's for your own good."

  She’s sobbing louder now. “I thought she was treating Justice better than me.”

  "Hey," my tone makes her look up at me in the mirror. "She loves you. She loves both of you. Both of us, we're trying to protect you, and it may seem like we're taking away your independence. I get it; you've had a ton your entire life up to this point, but understand where we're coming from. What happened to Justice changed us all. I know it changed you."

  “It did,” she wipes at her tears.

  We’re at the emergency room now, so I put the SUV in park, get out, and open their back down. Because the SUV is tall, I don’t have to bend far to look Harley in the eyes.

  “We’re all learning a new normal. None of us feel as safe as we used to, and things have changed. You’ve gotta work with us. I get you’re a wild child, I was one too, but you have to know we’re your parents and you have to follow our rules.”

  “I promise,” she hiccups, wiping at her eyes again. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know you are,” I tap her on the hip. “Let’s get in there and find out how your mom and little brother are doing.”

  I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face as we walk into the emergency room. Harley holds my hand, Justice holds hers. Together we make a united front, and when I tell them we’re here for Charity, they ask us to take a seat.

  I know taking a seat isn’t good, but I do the best I can to not freak out. It doesn’t do any of us any good if I don’t keep a level head.

  An hour later, I’m ready to kill someone. No one has been out to tell us how she’s doing, and I’m not sure how much longer I can take it. Jasmine and my parents arrived a few minutes ago, and I’ve done nothing but focus on my wedding ring. My hand lays on my thigh, right in my line of vision.

  It’s not as perfect as it once was. Just like me, it’s seen some shit and has a ton of stories to tell. I’ve knocked and dinged the hell out of it. The black color is silver in spots, and there’s some questionable bending to it where I got my hand stuck in an engine once.

  But this ring? It’s been strong.

  Stronger than Charity and I've been sometimes. Even when I've questioned some of the things happening in our lives. This ring has been constant. Even when we haven't been able to look at one another, I can look at this ring. Right now, it's my lifeline, and I'm hoping it brings my wife back to me.

  “Walker family?”

  All of us stand up because that's what we are. It's then I notice Jagger is here, along with B. Tyler and Meredith are standing too, and are Mandy and Dalton. They're careful not to get too close to one another, but here they are together when I need them the most.

  “We’re her family,” I say the words strongly, holding onto Harley’s hand.

  “All of you?”

  “She’s loved.”

  I dare him to say something about it.

  “Okay then. Her blood pressure got too high, and I believe she had a panic attack. I was told she’s been under a lot of stress?”

  Harley squeezes my hand. “She has, but we’ve taken care of it.”

  I look down at my daughter, who nods.

  “We’ve given her some fluids and some blood pressure medication. I want to keep her for observation tonight, just to make sure she and the baby are out of the woods. You all can come back and see her if you’d like.”

  As a group, we walk to her room, all of us silent, waiting to see her. It’s so unusual for this boisterous group of people. It’s almost like we’re walking to our death. He knocks on the room, opening the door to let us in, and when Harley sees her mom, she runs, throwing herself into her arms.

  “I’m so sorry!”

  "I know," Charity runs her hands along Harley's hair, pushing it back from her face. "I know it was an accident. This has all been a big accident."

  “I’ll never be bad again,” Harley promises.

  "We both know that's a lie," Charity laughs. "Let's just be honest with one another. If you tell me again, you think I'm treating you differently than Justice; I promise to tell you why. It won't be an answer like I'm an adult, and it's just going to be that way. We'll be open and honest with each other. Deal?"

  “Deal.”

  As I watch the two of them hug, I finally feel like everything is going to be okay.

  Chapter Seven

  Looking over at Drew, I can't help but grin. He looks hot lying on the couch he's folded out into a bed. Not to mention, the fact he's wanted to stay here with me tonight is one of the sweetest things he's ever done, but he's tired. I can tell by the set of his shoulders.

  “You can go home,” I offer.

  This is the third time I’ve made the offer, and I’m prepared for him to refuse again.

  “I’m not leaving you, babe.”

  His blue gaze looks over to where I'm also lying on my bed.

  “Just thought I’d give you the option.”

  "Don't need the option," he reaches over, holding his hand out for mine. When we clasp fingers, he sighs. "I was real fuckin' worried today; you weren't going to make it through the day. Let me stay here on this tiny ass couch-bed if I want to."

  I giggle slightly. “C’mon up here.”

  “You’re gonna get us kicked out of this room, babe.”

  “I don’t think any of the nurses would blame me if I told them I just wanted to be in your arms for a little while.”

  “Oh my God,” he squeezes my hand. “How sweet you are.”

  “Right? Did I convince you to come over here?”

  He gets up, waiting for me to scoot over. This bed isn't huge by any means, but it's big enough for both of us. I curl on my side, turning into him. My stomach rests perfectly against him. "I love you, Char."

  Inhaling deeply, the smell of Drew surrounds me. Cologne and motor oil. Not many women would love it, but for me, it's home.

  “I love you too. Please don’t let me go,” I whisper.

  He tightens his grip on me. “They’ll have to pry you from my dead, cold hands.”

  Finally, I relax, wrapping my arms around the man who makes my world go around. There are so many questions in this life. I've always had them, and I've wondered more often than I care to admit if I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing or not.

  But there’s one thing I know.

  When I’m with Drew Walker, I’m home.

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  Royal Rebel

  Prologue

  Tristan

  “I’m fucked. Completely and totally fucked. The King is going to have me beheaded in front of the entire country.”

  I should have been home hours ago, technically yesterday. Looking down at the illuminated clock located on the dashboard of my Bugatti, I grimace as the blue numbers turn to four am. The sad thing? I know what I’m required to do and I’m failing miserably before I’ve even started.

  “That’s one way of putting it, Tris, and he’s your father, I doubt he’d behead you in front of everyone. More than likely he’ll give you a private dressing down. Public isn’t his style.”

  A smirk twitches at the corners of my mouth as my good friend and member of my royal protection team, Parker holds on tight when I take a turn at almost one-hundred miles an hour. He’s used to it, but he still slides across the leather of his seat.

  “Perhaps slow down? Getting there quicker isn’t going to make it any better if your father is waiting on you.”

  Chuckling, I question. “Faster? You want me to go faster, you say?” I press my foot to the pedal harder, enjoying the way the car designed specifically for me, responds. Gripping the steering wheel I hold on tight as it gives a jolt, and accelerates forward.

  Parker gives a yell as we’re jerked back in our seats by the force of the acceleration. The city is asleep in the eerie quietness of the early-morning, but the lights pass by in a blur as I make my way downtown, heading for the residence I keep while not in the country.

  “Not so fast!” Parker is pressing an imaginary brake so hard on the passenger side floorboard that I can hear it from where I sit.

  “No worries, it brakes like a dream.”

  The tires squeal lightly as we come to a halt in front of the gates. They open once the guards inside see who I am. Conservatively, I drive to the garage, park the car, and then as quiet as I can, sneak into the main house through the kitchen entrance.

  “Tristan!”

  “Shhh,” I shush the head of the kitchen. Mary has worked here since I was a child, and I can always count on her to use discretion. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” I grab a fresh biscuit off the counter, before giving her a kiss on the cheek.

  Again, with the stealth of a ninja, I navigate through the main room and then the hallway. The stairs are in my sights when I hear a throat clear behind me.

  “Tristan, where have you been?”

  The loud, commanding tone of King Phillip, better known to me as my father, stops me in my tracks. Pasting a smile, I turn. “Out for a morning run?”

  “Don’t pretend I’m stupid. Get to my office now!”

  He’s angry, much like he’s been for the past twelve years since my mother passed away. Angry at the world for forcing him to grieve in public, angry at God for taking her away, and angry at me for looking so much like her. I’m a constant reminder of the life he had and lost. I’m the person that survived the crash which took her life. Some days, I think he wishes it was me who perished. Breathing heavily, I follow him into his office, knowing I’m going to deserve whatever he gives me.

  “You know what today is?” He has a seat behind the ornate desk he’s had since I was a child. Back then it’d been larger than life, much like he was to me.

  “How could I forget?”

  My birthday.

  Twenty-five is a big year, especially in our tiny country of Haldonia. It’s the year you can legally rent a car, the time you age out of mandatory military service, and if you’re in line for the throne, it’s when the previous King or Queen secedes. They give you six months to learn the ropes, but what is six months when trying to learn how to be a ruler?

  You’ve got that right, I’m about to be the King of a freaking country. Know what else comes along with being King?

  “She’s here, Tristan,” he steeples his fingers in front of his face. The fact he still wears his wedding ring doesn’t escape me. It flashes with the light from the lamp on his desk.

  “My blushing bride, I take it?” The words are pulled from deep within my chest. I’d always thought I would make my own decision when it came to who I would marry. My parents did, after all, and they had a tremendous love. One that burned bright until the day she died. I, however, haven’t been that lucky.

  “You knew this day would come. Instead of gallivanting around and using your status, you should have been serious about picking out a partner. You haven’t done that, and royal custom says the marriage is now to be arranged. You were given time, my son. You blew it, and now you must pay the consequences.”

  He’s not lying. It’s time for me to own up to my mistakes like a man. “When and where?” I ask, having a seat in front of him, letting my hands fall in between my legs.

  “Your birthday party, tonight,” he looks at the clock on his desk. “There you’ll meet Amelia. Tomorrow, we introduce her to the country. I hope you’re prepared for what’s about to happen, Tristan.”

  “Doesn’t matter if I am or not, does it?” I give him a sardonic smile. “In six months’ time, I’ll be a married man and King of a country.”

  “It is custom.”

  “Yeah?” I get up, sighing again. “Sometimes I’d like to say fuck custom.”

  As I take the stairs two at a time, making it to my bedroom just as the sun is coming up, I wonder just why God took my Mom and not me. I would’ve been a much better choice.

  March 7th, 2020 Royal Rebel Preorder Now!