Royal Pain

by Tracy Wolff

  I don’t answer, because I can’t. He’s right.

  Kian recognizes my silence for what it is. “Jesus, Savvy, what have I done to give you such a low opinion of me? All this time I’ve just been trying to love you. What the hell have you been doing?”

  “Trying not to love you.” The words burst from me before I can stop them.

  They hit him like a blow, have him physically recoiling from me. “Why the hell are we even together, then?” he asks after a minute.

  I don’t answer him. I can’t. Not when he’s looking at me like I just shattered his whole world.

  “I don’t deserve this,” he tells me. “I’ve been as honest with you as I have ever been with anyone and I don’t deserve you doubting me like this.”

  “What do you expect? You—”

  “I expect the benefit of the fucking doubt! I’m not Garrett. You’re not my dirty little secret.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What have you ever done to make me think I’m not your dirty little secret?” The words come from deep inside me, from a place I didn’t even know I was harboring them.

  Once they’re out, they hang between us—big and powerful and inescapable.

  “What’s going on here, Savannah?” he asks, suddenly very, very quiet.

  It’s my turn to sink down at the table, terrified my shaking legs won’t support me for much longer. “I don’t know.”

  “Sure you do.” He sits down across from me. “You’re going to have to spell it out for me, Savvy.”

  I don’t know if I can spell it out—I’m not sure I even know what I’m trying to say. It’s just, I’m sick of being the one who gets left. Sick of being an afterthought to somebody else’s life.

  I can’t make myself say that, though. Can’t let myself be that vulnerable when I know Kian is just going to leave me, too. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But if he’s supposed to slide into Garrett’s shoes, it won’t be long before I become that afterthought I don’t want to be. Or worse, a liability he feels forced to hide.

  I did that with Garrett because I was young and naïve and thought it was romantic that we had our little secret. But it wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t fun. It was sad and I was pathetic.

  I swore then that I’d never be that girl again. That I’d never put myself in that position again. And yet, here I am. And he’s not planning on leaving me today—it’s obvious Kian is shocked by just the suggestion. But just because he’s not planning on it now, doesn’t mean it won’t happen once duty and country and life start getting in the way.

  “I just think maybe we should take a break,” I tell him finally. “Let you get stuff sorted out at the palace before we try to make anything work between us.”

  “Try to make something work? I thought we were working.”

  I don’t answer. I can’t. There’s a lump in my throat the size of a fist.

  “Damn it, Savvy. Don’t do this.”

  “I’m not doing anything.”

  “You are, goddamn it. You’re breaking us before we even have a chance and I don’t know why.”

  “Kian—”

  “I love you,” he says, pulling me out of my chair and into his arms. “I love you, Savvy, and I don’t want to let you go.”

  “Nobody says you have to let me go. I just think we should—”

  “No,” he says, pressing his mouth to mine in what feels very much like a panic. “No. Please. No.”

  My resolve is weakening in the face of his certainty, his desperation. And though there’s a part of me that is screaming that I need to let him go, there’s another part that wants to hold on as tightly as I can. A part that wants to believe that this time will be different—that this time, I really do matter.

  “I—”

  His phone goes off then, dinging with one text message after another.

  I pull away. “You should get that.”

  “Fuck it.” He pulls me back. “I love you and I want to fix whatever is fucked-up between us. If you would just—”

  A powerful knock at the door, followed by another string of texts, interrupts him. “I think you’d better answer.”

  He curses then, long and low and vicious. But he heads for the front door, pulling his phone from his pocket as he goes.

  I stay where I am, clutching the kitchen counter in an effort to stay upright. Because—no matter what he just said—I know exactly how this is going to go.

  Sure enough, he’s back in under a minute. “I have to leave.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “Fuck, no, it’s not okay.” He reaches for me, pulls me into his arms. But I don’t feel him. I don’t feel anything right now. “I’m sorry. If it wasn’t imperative, I wouldn’t go.”

  “It’s fine,” I tell him, because it is.

  “I’ll be back, Savvy. I promise. We’re going to work this out.”

  I nod, even though I know the truth. That we can’t work this out. Because no matter how he feels about me, he’s going to end up choosing Wildemar. As he should. As he must.

  After all, none of this mess is on him. It’s on me. I’m the one who knew better and I’m the one who fell for him anyway.

  “Savvy. Please. I can’t just walk away when things are like this between us.” He’s wrapping an arm around my waist, stroking a hand down my face.

  “I’m fine,” I tell him, forcing the words out because I need him to leave before I burst into tears. “Go. We can figure this out later.”

  “Are you sure? I—” His phone goes off again. Whatever’s going on is obviously urgent. “Goddamn it!”

  “Just go, Kian.”

  It takes a few seconds and more than a few searching looks, but eventually he does just that. I keep my shit together through it all, keep my emotions all bottled up until I hear the SUV start up in the driveway and slowly pull away.

  Then and only then do I sink to the floor, arms wrapped around myself and tears streaming down my face, even as I promise myself that I won’t be here when he gets back.

  Chapter 32

  Kian

  She’s gone. Savvy’s fucking gone, and I don’t have a clue where she went. Goddamn it.

  I text her for what feels like the millionth time in the last two days and—big surprise—no fucking response.

  “When did they say she was going to be back?” I demand of Lucas, who just got back from the Wild Sea.

  “The manager refused to say. Just told me she was taking some time off.”

  “Refused to say? Did you tell him who was asking?” I feel like a dick even as the words leave my mouth. But shit. If I can’t use my title for this, what the fuck can I use it for?

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Lucas says drily, his way of telling me I’m being a dick, too. “But he reminded me that employee privacy is a matter of law in Wildemar.”

  “I fucking know that! I had to memorize the whole damn legal code before I was sixteen, didn’t I?”

  Lucas wisely chooses not to comment on that one. Goddamn it. I need to know where she is, need to know if she’s okay. Savvy was pretty messed up when I left her the other day and the fact that she’s just up and disappeared is freaking me the fuck out.

  “And her landlord has no idea she’s gone?”

  “None,” Lucas confirms as he pours a cup of coffee and then settles onto the sofa across from mine. “Which is a good thing, right? It means she’s not breaking her lease, which means she’ll be back. Maybe she just needed to clear her head for a few days.”

  “Maybe.” I’m not convinced. Then again, I’m the first to admit that I’m not exactly thinking clearly right now. Between my father refusing to back down on his ridiculous ultimatum, Garrett pretending he doesn’t give a shit and Savvy disappearing, I’m a fucking wreck.

  Part of me knows she’s fine, that she left because she can’t deal with what’s going on between us. But another, darker part keeps thinking about Garrett. About how he disappeared and a
ll the shit that happened to him. I know it’s illogical, know it’s not the same thing at all…but knowing it and believing it are two different things.

  I’m fucking going out of my mind.

  Four months ago I was flying assignments for the Navy during the week, partying all weekend and generally loving life. Now, it feels like the weight of the whole fucking world is on my shoulders, and if I can’t find Savvy soon, I’m going to lose my shit. Completely.

  “You’ve got to calm down, my man,” Lucas says before draining his coffee.

  “And how the fuck am I supposed to do that when Savvy is missing?”

  “She’s not missing,” he tells me firmly. “This is not like what happened to Prince Garrett. She called in to work and took some time off. People who’ve gone missing don’t do that.”

  “I know.” He only looks at me skeptically, so I repeat it just as the door to my suite opens. “I know. I do.”

  “What do you know?” Garrett asks as he lets himself in. He looks good, or at least as good as a man who has spent three months being tortured can look. The bruises on his face are fading—his eye is actually able to open now—and he’s moving a little easier, despite the cast on his arm and the binding around his ribs. Thank God.

  “Umm—” My brain goes completely blank. “That I’ve, uh—”

  “Got an appointment in a couple hours,” Lucas comes to my rescue even as he stands up. “I was just reminding him that I’ll be back to get him at two o’clock.”

  “Right. I’ll, umm, see you then.”

  We both watch as Lucas leaves and then Garrett turns to me, eyes narrowed. “You want to tell me what’s really going on with you?”

  “Nothing.”

  He snorts. “Yeah, right. That’s why you look like you’re about three seconds from freaking the fuck out.”

  “Three, huh? Cuz I feel like I’m about one second.”

  He settles on the couch next to me, bumps me with his shoulder. “So spill.”

  I haven’t even figured out how to tell him how I feel about Savvy yet, let alone the fact that she’s up and left me.

  But when I just shake my head, Garrett stands back up. “You know, I’m still the same person I was before all that shit happened. I know Dad thinks I’m damaged goods, but—”

  “Fuck. It’s not that, man. I know who you are. And I know you’re going to get through this and come out stronger on the other side.”

  “So why won’t you talk to me, then?”

  “It’s just—” I break off, try to figure out what I want to say. “Everything’s complicated and—”

  “You think this is complicated? Try feeling like a stranger in the only home you’ve ever known. Try feeling like nobody trusts you even though you didn’t do anything wrong, didn’t tell anybody anything. Try having everyone look at you like you’re weak when that’s the one thing you’ve worked so hard not to be your whole fucking life.”

  He won’t even look at me as he heads for the door.

  Shit, that’s more than he’s been willing to say since he got home. Even the shrink reports he’s not saying a word. How the fuck am I supposed to just let him go when he’s finally reaching out?

  I can’t.

  “It’s not you,” I tell him, moving to get between him and the door. “It’s me.”

  “Yeah, right.” He starts to push me aside.

  “I’m serious, Garrett. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s that I have something to tell you, and I don’t know how to do that.”

  The angry, defensive look on his face doesn’t disappear, but it starts to fade just a little as curiosity takes its place. “So, just tell me, man. We used to be able to talk about anything, so when the fuck did everything get so complicated?”

  I can’t help laughing. “Jesus Christ, you’re the one who got himself kidnapped and I’m the complicated one in this family?”

  “Fuck you.” But he’s laughing, too, and walking back over to settle on the couch.

  “Do you want a drink or something?” I ask, buying time as I try to figure out what to say to him. I know their relationship has been over for a long time, but I can’t help but remember Savvy saying he wanted to take her to dinner a few months ago. If he still has feelings for her…if he still has feelings for her, we are totally fucked, because I am not giving her up.

  “I’m pretty sure the Percocet is keeping me buzzed enough, thanks.”

  “I was talking about water, asshole. But whatever.” I get a bottle out of the fridge for myself and then sit down across from him. It gives me something to do with my hands, if nothing else.

  I guess I take too long trying to figure out how to say what I need to say, because after a minute or so, Garrett lets out an annoyed sigh. “Jesus, bro, I’ve got another surgery scheduled for next week. You think we can get this show on the road before then?”

  “I don’t know. You think you can keep your mouth shut long enough for me to say something?” I answer with a roll of my eyes. His impatience with my reticence is a lifelong battle.

  “I’m just saying. Christmas is coming.”

  “Why exactly did I miss you when you were gone?”

  “Why wouldn’t you miss me? Who the hell wants to deal with Dad all on his own?”

  “Good point.”

  He smirks. “I’m full of them today. It’s what comes from having a fully functional brain, no matter what people think.”

  “I am aware you have a fully functional brain. I’m also pretty sure you have a fully functional fist,” I tell him, nodding to his good hand, “and I would prefer not to get punched.”

  “Well, this is getting more interesting by the minute.” He pauses. “You know that I don’t hold you responsible for Dad’s opinions, right? I know you’re not trying to get me kicked off the throne.”

  “Fuck no, I’m not! Jesus. Who the hell wants to be king anyway?”

  For long seconds, there’s nothing but silence. Then Garrett says quietly, “I do.”

  “You’re going to be,” I tell him firmly. “It’s just going to take some time for the current king to get his head out of his ass. But he’ll get there eventually.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  “Well, there won’t be a new king until he dies. And when that happens, it’s not like he’s going to come back from the grave and take the crown off your head, so…it’s a moot point, really.”

  For long seconds, Garrett just stares at me, openmouthed. I’m beginning to think I went too far and that’s when he starts to laugh and laugh and laugh.

  Seconds later, I’m laughing, too, so hard that my stomach hurts and I’ve got tears in my eyes.

  When we’ve both calmed down, he says, “Okay. So if you’re not angsting about being king, what the hell is going on?”

  Fuck it. I’m going to have to tell him sometime. It might as well be now, when we’re both still grinning like idiots.

  “I met someone.”

  “No shit! I’m out being tortured and you’re ensconced in the palace with some gorgeous woman. No wonder you didn’t want to tell me.”

  He’s trying to look serious, but his voice gives it away. As does the shit-eating grin he can’t get rid of.

  “So tell me about her.”

  “Yeah, that’s the thing…”

  “What?” His brows hit his hairline. “Should I be asking to hear about him?”

  “Dude, seriously? I think we’ve established pretty strongly that I’m hetero.”

  “You never know. Maybe some guy swept you off your feet while I was gone. It could happen.”

  “While it could happen,” I acknowledge, “it didn’t. She’s definitely a girl.”

  “Okay. So what’s the problem, then?”

  “No problem.”

  “Really? Because you’re acting weird.”

  “Fine. It’s just…you know her.”

  “I figured. There’s not a huge pool of aristocrats to pull from—”

  “She’s n
ot an aristocrat. In fact, she’s American.”

  He whistles then, low and long. “No wonder you’re being sketchy. Dad’s going to have a fit.”

  “Dad’s the last thing I’m worried about. He doesn’t get a vote.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “It’s Savannah, Garrett.”

  His face goes blank. “What?”

  “I’m in love with Savvy. I didn’t mean for it to happen—”

  “Wait a minute? Savvy? You’re in love with my Savvy?”

  My teeth snap together at the proprietary way he says it. “No. I’m in love with my Savvy.”

  “When did that happen? How did that happen?”

  “She was working a gala I was at a few weeks ago. She saved me from Madame Aguillard and…it just kind of happened.”

  “But how did it happen?” He looks more bewildered than angry, but I’m not sure that’s a good thing…

  “How could it not? She’s great. Smart, funny, gorgeous…is it really such a surprise I fell for her?”

  “It’s a surprise you fell for her knowing she’d once been mine.”

  “I didn’t know. Not at first.”

  “She didn’t tell you? That doesn’t sound like her—she used to be straightforward to a fault.”

  I laugh. “Oh, she still is. I found out before she could tell me, but by then it was too late. I was already hooked.”

  Garrett leans forward, runs his good hand through this hair. “I’ve got to tell you, I wasn’t expecting this.”

  “I know. And I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry, so…”

  “Yeah, I get that. You’re practically glowing like a virgin on her first date.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “So, what does this mean? You’re serious about her?”

  I nod. “As serious as it gets.”

  “Wow.” He takes a deep breath, blows it out slowly. “Okay, then. I guess I should say congratulations?”

  Relief sweeps through me. “You mean you’re okay with it?”

  “Okay might be a stretch, but I’m working on it.”

  “That’s fair.”

  “I think so, yeah.”