Ruthless Noble by Alley Ciz

CHAPTER 19

With the addedweight to Natalie’s threat, I thought it best to keep a little bit of space between the Royals and me, which pisses me off to no end. So now, after one of the most frustrating weekends on record, I am most definitely not looking forward to school today.

Every now and then, sunlight glints off the shiny shackle on my ring finger as I compose text message after text message.

Carter is up to one hundred and thirty-seven unanswered text messages from me. If he doesn’t text me back by the time I get out of school today, I will be forced to officially start stalking him.

Being the bestest best friend in existence, Tessa had zero qualms about altering our original weekend plans to help me strategize an action plan. We’ve concluded that I’m going to need assistance in making Natalie believe I’m toeing the line while I continue my hunt for this “evidence” she claims to have. It also means I’m going to have to start spending more time at the penthouse to do so. Oh joy!

It goes against every fiber of my being to enlist people outside of the Royals, but with my brother actively avoiding me, I don’t feel like I have much of a choice.

Duke and Jasper are easy to find thanks to the small cluster of students vying for attention from their kings. It amazes me how easily others do what they want—then a sudden thought hits me.

There’s no way Natalie had those pictures of Jasper and me before Saturday. The temptation to use them as a way to control me would have been too great for her to sit on them for weeks.

No. That means…whoever took them held them until it would benefit them most. But who? And why?

An ugly thought slithers its way into my thoughts, grabbing on and trying to take root. What if…

No. No way.

But…could it?

One would think that when the engagement announcement hit the papers, they would have been released. I’m sure something like that would have been a massive payday from one of the many trash rags of the world. More importantly, why would they go to Natalie and not the press?

I give a little finger wave to Arabella and her bitch brigade, upping the Go fuck yourself wattage on my grin as I pass them. I would love nothing more than to blame one of them, but the timing of the photos being sent to Natalie is suspect.

Obviously, Jasper was pissed about the whole engagement ring thing given how he stormed out and later ripped it off my person, but would it push him to be vindictive enough to incriminate himself with the photos?

I want to say no. A part of me needs to believe he couldn’t be capable of such duplicity, but history proves otherwise.

That was before, I think when those pearly eyes land on me as I approach. I don’t know why I bother arguing with myself. I need to keep my distance from him. I’ve already proved—time and time again—that I have no self-control when it comes to Jasper Noble. Maybe believing the worst about him will help keep my brother and those I care most about safe.

“I need to talk to you.” I step in front of Duke. “Please tell me you aren’t looking to him for permission.” I ask when he side-eyes Jasper. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be engaged to me, not Noble.” I wiggle my fingers in his face, ignoring the gasps and murmurs the sight of the ring sets off.

This conversation needs to happen now before I lose the rest of my mind, and the last thing I need is an audience.

Not giving Duke the chance to deny me, I wrap his tie around my fist and drag him with me to the first empty classroom I can find.

He chuckles—of course he does—as his feet trip over mine, the toes of his shoes pushing down the backs of mine as he stumbles behind me.

I fall against the door, my shoulders pressing into the wood as I lean against it, feeling around the knob for the lock and clicking it home. When I finally release my death grip on Duke, the silk of his tie is a wrinkled disaster.

I jump, my heart trying to escape my chest, when two heavy fists beat at the door, followed by Jasper’s angry voice demanding I open it.

I…can’t.

I’ve denied it at every turn, but it’s no use now. I’m drawn to him like I am to nobody else. The fact that he might have…betrayed me doesn’t factor in at all. I want Jasper Noble. Except…I can’t have him.

It doesn’t matter what I want. My family—Carter and the Royals—will always come first. Until I can do away with the evidence that could hurt them, I’ll do everything else in my power to protect them. And right now? That means going along with Natalie’s plans.

The classroom walls feel like they’re closing in on me as Jasper continues to make his demands from the other side of the door.

Spinning, I meet his gaze through the long vertical window, and holy shit, the fire burning in his eyes comes from Hades himself.

I hold his gaze for a second longer, trying to telegraph how sorry I am before locking the guilty feeling in a box.

I debated well into the dark morning hours if this is the best plan, and I’m still not entirely sure.

Resting my hands on top of my head, I start to pace and sort through my conflicting thoughts.

As always, Duke seems to be without a care, making himself at home on top of the desk of whoever this classroom belongs to. I observe him out of the corner of my eye, casually leaning back with hands braced behind him, legs swinging, heels kicking out a steady staccato, goofy grin on his handsome face.

Ugh!

The tips of my fingers start to go numb, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath, actively triggering my symptoms to flare up. I don’t bother to caution myself to calm down. Calm left the realm of possibility a long time ago. Instead of wasting time attempting to corral my emotions, I use my inhaler. I get the feeling this is only the beginning of the emotional maelstrom for the day.

There’s no missing the change in Duke’s demeanor. He shifts so his elbows rest on his spread knees, and his eyes are locked on the inhaler at my mouth. It strikes my notice how much more often I’m using it in front of others. Typically it’s only the Royals and Tessa that I’ve allowed to see me with it.

Could the fact that I didn’t hesitate to pull it out in front of Duke be a sign?

I…don’t know.

That’s my problem in a nutshell.

I’m in uncharted territory here, and I don’t know if the path I’m thinking of taking will lead me to safety or straight off a cliff.

You’ll never know unless you take a chance.

“Did you really need to talk? Or was dragging me in here just a new kind of foreplay between you two?” Duke bounces a finger from me to a scowling-through-the-window Jasper.

Another arrow of guilt lodges deep in my soul.

This…

This…sucks.

“I mean…” Duke holds his hands up, his ass dancing on the desktop with a pelvic thrust. “I’m down for a little sandwich action if it is.”

A small laugh escapes me at his ridiculousness. Should I take it as a sign that maybe what I want to ask him—no, it’s not to have a three-way with Jasper and me—isn’t the worst idea I’ve ever had?

Instinct and experience tell me not to trust anyone outside of the Royals (I’m including Tessa in this).

What to do? What to do? What to do?

“Princess—”

“Don’t.” I throw a hand up to cut him off, softening my tone when I realize how harsh it is. “Don’t call me that.” That’s Jasper’s name for me. It hurts too much to hear it.

“You’re my fiancée, though. Shouldn’t I have a pet name for you?”

I dig my knuckles into my forehead, once again reevaluating my entire thought process. I haven’t even broached the subject of my plan, and I’m already regretting it.

How can he be so nonchalant about all this?

I move until I’m standing in front of him, his knees butting up against my stomach, jovial expression back in full force as he shifts back to rest on his hands, legs spreading to invite me to step between them.

Just ask him already, Savvy.

“Look.” I fold my arms over my chest, using the move to hide the unsteadiness of my hands. “Deadass. No cap. What do you think about…this whole engagement thing?”

Silence stretches between us, and I don’t miss how Duke chances another glance toward the now silent door of the classroom. He licks his lips, and I can hear the joking comment before he says it, so I cut him off at the pass.

“Duke…please.” I abhor the desperate plea in my tone. I can’t help it though. I’m like a frayed rope, my threads unraveling one at a time, not sure which one snapping will be the cause of my demise.

“I could think of worse things than having you shackled to me as the old ball and chain.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Mom’s been playing matchmaker since I hit puberty. I could have ended up with someone fugly instead of a smokeshow.”

His twisted attempt at a compliment has the first vestiges of a smile tugging at my lips. Still…if he can’t be serious when I straight up asked him to be, asking him for help will be a pointless endeavor.

I should have known better and take a step to leave, only to be stopped by Duke jumping down from his perch and wrapping warm hands around my upper arms. Whatever he reads on my face has him revealing a side of him I’ve never seen before.

Gone is the cocky playboy jock who’s always quick with a joke or a flirt. In his place is the version I’m sure he’s been taught to be on the campaign trail. As his chest rises and falls, I will say there seems to be far more compassion in his baby blues than one would expect from a politician’s son.

“How about you tell me this first…” Duke rocks back on his heels, his hands sweeping up and down my arms, soothing me while keeping me in place.

“Tell you what?” I shake my head. “And why should I answer your question when you still haven’t answered mine?”

He studies me for a beat, happy grin closer to being back in place the longer he stares. “Why does the thought of marrying me upset you so much?”

No.

He didn’t ask me that? Right?

Because if he’s asking me…that, does it mean…

He doesn’t actually want to marry me…

Right?

“Oh God, that look on your face.” Duke’s hands leave my body to slap one to his heart as he stumbles backward. “You’re breaking my heart, Princess.”

“I SAID DON’T CALL ME THAT!” I snap.

You know what? I’m done. This was pointless. Why did I think a few weeks of sort-of friendship and being…whatever I was to Jasper would mean I could maybe turn to Duke for help?

“Whoa.” Arms band around me, and I’m tugged against a hard chest in a firm hug. “You’re wiggin’, and that makes it no fun to tease you, Pri—” He cuts himself off at my growl and corrects to not very smoothly finish with “Savvy.”

“Forget it, Duke.” I wiggle around, trying to remove myself from his hold without any success.

“Nah, I don’t think so. This”—he circles a finger an inch from my nose—“is a side of you I haven’t seen.”

Yeah, that’s because he’s right. To quote my girl Cher in Clueless, I’m totally buggin’. There are too many moving parts I have zero control over, things that have the potential to rock my foundation at its core.

“Because of that, and because Jasper would kill me if I were somehow the one to make your asthma spaz out, I’ll keep it one hundred with you.”

“Is that possible?” I arch a brow.

“I have my moments,” he says on a laugh before straightening, that earnestness from earlier returning. “Do I think our parents are cray for suggesting this while we’re in high school?” He nods. “Hundo P. But…”

Panic seizes my throat, making it hard to breathe. It feels like there’s a guillotine hanging over my head, and Duke is the one in control of the release lever.

“Jasper’s my boy, and he’s got dibs. That officially makes you a no-fly zone for any of the assholes at this school”—he gives an almost boyish shrug—“including me.”

The statement should irk me, but for some reason, it doesn’t. It also gives me the push to ask what I need to.

“I…” My head falls forward, my forehead landing to rest on his chest. “I…need your…help.”

Duke hooks a finger under my chin, lifting my gaze to his. “That’s music to my ears, sweet cheeks.”

“Ugh.” I thunk my head against him, somewhat wishing it were a wall. “We’re really going to have to work on your nickname skills.”

“You’ll learn to love it.” The surety in his voice is concerning. “Now, sugar lips”—he barks out a laugh at my nose scrunch—“tell Big Daddy what you need.”

“Let’s start with you never calling yourself Big Daddy again.” The twinkle in his eyes does not bode well for my sanity.

The warning bell rings. I don’t have a lot of time to start putting the pieces in motion.

“I make no promises, Boo Bear.”

I glance to my left. I glance to my right.

“What are you doing, pookie?”

With Duke being my only option, I think I’m going to have to draw on over a decade’s worth of experience with Tessa as my bestie if I’m going to have any hope of surviving…this.

“I’m looking for something sharp to stab you with,” I grumble, which only causes him to laugh more.

“Spicy.” He touches a finger to my shoulder before shaking out his hand while hissing through his teeth. “I like this feisty side of you.”

“Because this is any different from how I’ve always been, how?”

“Touché.” He releases me to retake his spot on top of the desk. “All right, babycakes.” He claps his hands together. “Hit me.”

Oh, I’m tempted to hit him, all right.

“First, I need to make it clear that I have no intention of marrying you.”

He mimes being stabbed in the heart. “Is the rock not big enough?” He lifts my arm by pinching the tip of my ring finger. “Didn’t take you for one of those materialistic bimbos like we’ve got around here.”

I don’t dignify his comment with a response. “I need you to help me pretend we’re planning to follow through on this insanity from our parents.”

“And why…would I do that?” He hitches a leg up, crossing his legs by resting a foot on his knee.

If I didn’t need him, I would strangle him. Yup, definitely would strangle him. “Because you’re such a good guy?”

“Ehnt.” He imitates the sound of the world’s most annoying buzzer. “Try again.”

“What—would—you—want?” I ask through my teeth.

I regret asking the instant I do. The way he rubs his hands in glee really, really, really makes me want to slap him.

“No. Wait!” I hold up a hand before he can answer and push me over the violent edge. “How’s this for incentive…”

He strokes his chin in an I’m listening manner.

“If you agree to play along, it means you’ll be spending more time with me, which in turn”—Tess, please don’t kill me for making this offer—“means you’ll spend more time around Tessa.”

Duke hops off the desk and lifts me up in a spinning hug. “You got yourself a deal, snookums.”

He agreed.

This should be a good thing.

Why do I feel like this is going to bite me in the ass?