Throne of York

by Charlotte Byrd

  I’m ready.

  I think I am.

  I have to be.

  Get it together, Everly.

  You can do this.

  All you have do is go to the airstrip.

  Everything will be fine.

  Don’t overthink this.

  Just go.

  With newfound strength and determination, I open the door and run outside, straight into his arms.

  My whole body goes cold.

  It’s as if a rush of icy cold air blasts at me.

  I take a step back, but he grabs me by my shoulders.

  I try to break free and run the opposite direction, but he shoves me back inside my room and locks the door.

  “Now, c’mon, c’mon. Don’t freak out. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  His voice is calm.

  It is so calm that it comes out like velvet.

  He’s trying to lure me into a false sense of security.

  It’s not working.

  “What do you want?” I ask.

  “I just wanted to come up here. Say hi. Get to know you better.”

  Abbott’s eyes sparkle as the words escape his mouth.

  “You don’t want to get to know me.”

  “Oh, I think I do. My brother was obsessed with you. I figured I should at least give you a chance.”

  Was.

  Why did he just use the past tense when talking about Easton?

  What does he know that I don’t?

  Why did I let him lead me back inside?

  Why didn’t I fight him out in the hallway?

  No one knows that we’re here.

  These thoughts and a million more rush through my mind all at once.

  “You see, Everly, I’ve always had a bit of a problem with jealousy. I hate to admit it, but since you are to be my wife, I don’t think we should have any secrets from each other.”

  I shake my head and move away from him.

  But there’s nowhere to go.

  The room suddenly feels as if it’s shrinking around me. It’s as if it’s physically getting smaller and smaller.

  The walls are closing in.

  My head starts to spin.

  Focus.

  You need to focus, I say to myself.

  But my body refuses to cooperate.

  My heart starts to pound so loudly it feels like it’s going to rip through my chest. The gush of rushing blood through my ears makes it impossible to think.

  “So, are you going to ignore me now? Is that what you’re going to do?” he asks, taking a few steps closer to me.

  I retreat until my back collides with the door.

  “What are you doing here?” I manage to get out.

  “I already told you. I’m jealous. Of my brother, of all people!” His laugh sends shrivers down my spine.

  “Why… is that so… unusual?”

  “Why? Are you seriously asking me why? Because he’s a loser!”

  I shake my head.

  “You don’t agree with me?”

  I shake my head again.

  “Okay, how about this? Our father gives him everything he could ever want, and he turns his back on it. He doesn’t get the power that this place wields. He doesn’t get the fact that he could have everything he could ever want here.”

  “But he can’t.”

  “What?”

  “He can’t have everything he wants here. All he wanted was to get away from here and live a normal life. All he wanted was to get away from everything that York is and that it represents. And you and his father wouldn’t let him. And now, he’s sitting in a cell accused of a crime he didn’t commit. And you, of all people, are jealous of him? Why the fuck are you jealous of him?”

  I don’t know where these words come from.

  They take me by as much of a surprise as they take Abbott.

  He stares at me for a moment without saying a word.

  Chapter 29 - Everly

  When darkness descends…

  Neither of us speak for what feels like an hour.

  He just stares at me and I meet his gaze in return.

  It doesn’t feel like I have much to lose anymore, so why give him the satisfaction of inciting fear in me.

  No, I won’t. I’m going to fight.

  I’m going to say exactly what’s on my mind. And I won’t look away.

  “So, this is why he loves you,” Abbott finally says.

  I don’t know what he means.

  “You are full of surprises, Everly March.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

  “I’m starting to realize that.”

  Another long pause.

  He paces around the room and then sits down on the edge of the bed.

  He pats the bedspread next to him, inviting me to sit down.

  I look at him with the expression on my face that asks, do you think I’m an idiot?

  “Whatever, suit yourself,” he mumbles under his breath.

  “My brother is going to go down for Dagger’s murder. You know that, right?”

  “No, I don’t,” I lie. What else is there to say?

  “Yes, you do,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

  “He has a good attorney. He didn’t kill him.”

  “None of that matters.”

  Now, it’s my turn to scrutinize him. Where is all of this confidence coming from? What does he know that I don’t?

  “You know he didn’t do this,” I finally say.

  “Of course.”

  “How?”

  “Because I did.”

  Blood drains from my face.

  What?

  Did I hear that right?

  Did Abbott just admit to me that he killed Dagger?

  My legs feel weak and suddenly I’m not sure if they are strong enough to hold me up.

  “You killed him? Why?”

  “Because he’s my father’s closest advisor. He’s his oldest friend. And he never had good things to say about me.”

  Abbott killed Dagger to protect himself.

  I have spent so long looking at everything that has been happening at the house of York through my own lens that it never occurred to me that other people would have their own agendas.

  How could I be so self-centered?

  Of course, Abbott would have his own power struggle.

  Of course, he would find Easton threatening, even though this was the last place on earth that Easton wanted to be.

  “You could’ve had everything. Easton wanted nothing to do with this place. You didn’t have to frame him. We would’ve just left.”

  “I considered that,” Abbott says, lying down on the bed and putting his hands behind his head.

  His ability to relax here, in front of me, and feel completely secure that I would never do anything to hurt him, makes me angry.

  Rage starts to build somewhere in the pit of my stomach.

  “Easton has always said that he wanted nothing from his inheritance or had any interest in a title or anything else. But that wasn’t true, was it?”

  “Of course, it was.”

  “He asked father to marry you.”

  “So what?”

  “So what? That’s all our father ever wanted. A line. A legacy. All of that bullshit. Why the fuck do you think he gets married every two years and has all of those goddamn kids with his new wives?”

  “If that’s what he wanted, then why didn’t you give it to him?”

  He sits up on the bed.

  “I never met anyone good. Besides, I thought I would have more time. I thought that Easton would go away. Or at least, would do something to make him mad enough to send him away for good. I didn’t realize that he would agree to marry you and start his life here as a proper prince of York.”

  I shake my head.

  Tears of anger and rage are starting to well up deep within me.

  He framed Easton for no reason at all.

  He could’ve had everything he wanted, and we could�
��ve had everything we wanted.

  And now…now, everything is all fucked up.

  “We didn’t want to do any of that. We could’ve left. Easton just didn’t think he had a choice. Your father was so excited…“ I start tripping over my words as I speak.

  He walks over to me and wraps his arms around me.

  My body shudders and I try to break free, but he holds me tightly.

  “Shhhh, it’s going to be alright,” he says softly.

  My skin starts to crawl.

  What is he doing?

  Why is he holding me like this?

  What is this tenderness and why is it making me feel sick to my stomach?

  “Why did you do that?” I ask, looking up at him. “You didn’t have to. We would’ve left. You could’ve had everything. All he wanted was me.”

  Abbott looks deep into my eyes.

  At first, his gaze is soft. Kind, even.

  But then, within a moment, it turns to ice.

  I try to pull away from him, but he slams me into the wall.

  My head collides with it hard and I start to see stars in my peripheral vision.

  “Don’t you see?” he asks with a loud thunderous laugh. “You just answered your own question.”

  I don’t respond, so he slams me into the wall again.

  “Easton wants you. And I can’t let him have you.”

  “Why?” I whisper.

  “Because you’re going to be mine.”

  He grabs me by my hair and drags me to the bed.

  He flips me over and tries to pull down my pants.

  But before he succeeds, I turn over and knee him in the groin.

  Hard.

  As hard as I can.

  He curses at me and topples over.

  I run over to the dresser and grab the glass vase with both hands.

  Without giving him another opportunity to attack me, I smash it over his head.

  Suddenly, blood is everywhere.

  Abbott lies on his back, barely moving.

  Whimpering.

  I kneel down next to him, trying to collect my thoughts.

  What do I do now?

  Finish him off or just make a run for it.

  If he isn’t as hurt as he seems, then he’ll catch up with me.

  And then, I might not have another chance.

  But still, taking a life that’s lying helplessly in front of me, seems impossible.

  I am not a cold-blooded murderer after all.

  Even though he is.

  “Fuck you,” Abbott whispers.

  The tone of his voice makes my blood turn to ice and I grab a large piece of broken glass from the floor.

  When he moves, I see that he is holding a gun with his left hand and I fall to the floor and lodge the glass in his throat.

  Blood bubbles out of his mouth and his body grows limp.

  His hand relaxes, and the gun falls to the floor.

  But I no longer trust my eyes.

  I reach for his hand and try to find a pulse.

  I don’t let out a sigh of relief until I am certain that he no longer has one.

  Chapter 30 - Everly

  When I make a run for it…

  After I am certain that Abbott is dead, I run into the closet and change out of my blood-stained clothes.

  I want to take a shower, but I don’t have time.

  I need to get away from here before anyone knows what happened.

  My only chance now is to make it to that airstrip.

  I close the door gently behind me and walk down the hallway.

  My heart is beating out of my chest, but I don’t let it faze me.

  I have a plastic smile on my face.

  I curl my lips a little bit and try not to look too overeager.

  I’m just going on a walk. I’m not doing anything suspicious.

  “Hey! Everly!” Savannah calls my name.

  I stop in my tracks, but don’t dare turn around.

  “Want to go swimming?” Teal asks.

  I don’t, no.

  But thanks for asking, I want to say.

  Of course, I don’t.

  “No, not right now,” I say a little bit too quickly. “I gotta go.”

  “Where are you going?” one of them asks.

  They aren’t prying.

  They’re genuinely interested.

  Act like everything’s fine.

  “I’m just going on a walk,” I say and take a few steps back toward the door.

  The girls are congregating in the kitchen, and I hope that they stay there.

  “Oh, that can wait!” Savannah announces. “Come here. Come over.”

  I debate as to what I should do.

  I can stay, but then I will lose time.

  If I leave too quickly, then they might start to suspect something.

  Please, please, please.

  I plead for nothing in particular.

  No, that’s not true.

  I plead for the universe to let me pass.

  I plead for one goddamn break.

  Peeking out from behind the doorway, I can feel them waiting for me.

  I rub my hand on the back of my neck.

  Perhaps, I should go there.

  Perhaps, I need to make an appearance to buy myself some time.

  Pulling my palm away from my neck, I see blood.

  It’s coming from right below my hair line.

  It doesn’t really hurt when I touch it, but I can feel the wet liquid and I see the red blood.

  “I’m sorry, I really can’t!” I yell and disappear behind the front door.

  As soon as the door slams shut, I begin to run.

  I no longer care about trying to stay in the shadows.

  I’m wearing workout pants and sneakers.

  I could be out on a run.

  I have an excuse; what I don’t have is time.

  I need to get to the airstrip as fast as possible.

  If the girls weren’t alerted by my odd behavior, I’m sure that the guards were. Or whoever was watching the monitors.

  I run.

  I run with my feet kicking high and I run until my chest starts to ache.

  When I get a stitch in my side, I take a deep breath and pick up the pace.

  I run when I think that I can’t run anymore. And I run when tears start to run down my face.

  There’s something about pushing your body to its limit that makes you totally emotionally fragile.

  It’s as if my body is about to break in two, but before it does, my mind does.

  I don’t know how I’m going to convince this stranger to trust me.

  I don’t know what getting to the airstrip is going to do for me.

  All I know is that I don’t have much time.

  The universe doesn’t give you that many chances, and I seem to have wasted all of mine.

  The airstrip appears just a few feet after the pathway leading into the jungle disappears. I follow it to the end of the bend and then I keep going.

  I wish I had a machete to clear some of the brush, or to protect myself.

  Either way, a machete would definitely make me feel a lot better about this whole situation.

  The airstrip isn’t anything like I’ve seen before.

  It’s small, big enough for one plane to take off and land, and basically looks like a large driveway which has been somewhat cleared of grass.

  But only somewhat.

  The jungle surrounds it on both sides.

  And I’m no aviation expert, but I’ve seen a movie or two about smuggling drugs from Columbia.

  And this airstrip looks barely long enough for a small plane to take off from.

  Nevertheless, I am certain that I’m in the right place.

  I make my way along the brush toward what looks like a bus stop in the middle of nowhere.

  And not any fancy city bus stop with plastic windows and a proper roof.

  No, this one has a strip of tin across four pieces of plywood and
two plastic chairs.

  Is that where people are supposed to wait for their flights? I wonder.

  Then suddenly, I see him.

  Or rather them.

  A big guy with dark hair and large sweat stains underneath his armpits.

  That has to be Daniel.

  But what about the skinny blonde one wearing the same uniform?

  Who the hell is that?

  Another security guard, I’m sure.

  But what the hell am I supposed to do with him?

  Chapter 31 - Everly

  When I make a run for it…

  I retreat a little bit into the bushes to try to figure out what to do next.

  I can’t just come up to them.

  What would I say?

  I hadn’t planned this through enough.

  And unfortunately, Easton hadn’t mentioned this possibility.

  And what if he did? My mind wanders.

  What would’ve been different then?

  Nothing. Not really. Complications are always a possibility, right?

  This is just one of those things.

  Okay, Everly. Focus.

  Stop letting your mind wander.

  Stop meandering.

  For all I know, they could already be looking for you. They could’ve found Abbott’s body and they could have the guards after you. You need to make a decision.

  I look around and assess the situation as best as I can. Daniel and the skinny guy are sitting on two plastic chairs in what looks to be a movable mobile office.

  It looks like one of those sheds they sell outside of Home Depots back home.

  It has a few windows to allow a breeze through and some audio-visual equipment. There is a large desk that spans from one side of the shed to another with a few laptops and other controls.

  Given what I know about York, I would think that this place would be a little better equipped.

  Maybe a real office for the guards. Or some sort of security checkpoint. But perhaps, that’s why Easton sent me here.

  Perhaps, no one really knows about this place or how poorly it is guarded. Or maybe it’s not really meant to be known.

  Did Easton say this was a little private airport? This is definitely not the place that the king or any royals would land in.

  It’s also unlikely that this is the place that they would accept important visitors to the island, like other heads of state.

  I’m not certain of much, but I’m certain about that.