Ruthless Noble by Alley Ciz

CHAPTER 21

I may have been lateto the start of first period, but I didn’t even make it to the end of it before my phone was blowing up with texts. My group chat with the Royals is filled with enough expletives to make Samuel L. Jackson blush, and if the death threats from Tessa were to be taken seriously, whatever FBI agents tasked with monitoring the texts of teenagers would already be en route.

Honestly, I didn’t think anything of it—too focused on the lack of a text from the one person I was still waiting to hear back from—until Chuck, Kay, and Em started popping up in my notification banners.

It was lunchtime by the time I worked my way through all the messages and got a chance to watch the video that had those who love me ready to lay siege and storm the castle—or in this case, Blackwell Academy.

At first glance, it looked bad, but if you stopped and watched it closely, you could see it was an accident. I only fell because Duke bumped into me. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and fell from losing my balance, not because Duke or Jasper hit me. Though I guess some blame can be placed on me because I did not see Duke’s method of playing along going anything like that.

The phrase “Boys are dumb” has never held more meaning to me. Granted, I’m happy the two of them made up, but Duke’s approach of puckering up and tapping his lips so they could literally kiss and makeup…yeah, I still can’t believe I’m entrusting him to help me.

Lunch was also when my luck ran out with Jasper, and he was able to corner me.

I swear I can still feel the warmth from when his palm cupped my cheek with a tenderness I didn’t think him capable of, his calloused skin lightly brushing along the edge of the bruise Natalie left behind.

Even now, his pained voice haunts me. “Fuck, Princess. Tell me I didn’t do this.”

He didn’t believe my first attempt at reassuring him that he didn’t. It took Tinsley shoving her phone literally in his face, the screen bumping his nose, and him seeing it for himself for him to lose the haunted look in his eyes.

His reaction to what happened this morning confirmed two things for me. One, there’s no way he was involved in the taking or sharing of the pictures of us. That is a problem we will have to address…at another time.

The other thing it made me realize was, while I asked Duke to play along as a dutiful fiancé to help protect me, and thereby Jasper, from people thinking there is still…something going on between us, I can’t in good conscience have Jasper believe it’s actually true. He has to know it’s nothing more than a game that needs to be played.

A part of me tells me not to bother, to just throw caution to the wind and put an end to this whole charade with Duke. Thoughts like that are cray. I know what’s at stake if I get caught with Jasper again.

This has been the Monday-est Monday ever, and I’m beyond ready for another coffee from Espresso Patronum or a nap. Don’t let it be said I’m not flexible.

“So…” Duke rushes toward Tinsley and me, dropping an arm around each of our shoulders. “I was wondering, pudding pie—”

“What the fuck did you just call her?” Jasper growls, coming up from behind us.

“Ignore him,” I suggest. “Lord knows I do.”

“Amen.” Tinsley’s quick agreement makes me smile.

Duke huffs as if put out from being ignored. “Anyway…” His stupid long arms make it easy for him to reach up and muss both my and Tinsley’s hair without much effort.

“Hey!” Tinsley squeals.

“Asshole,” I curse and jump out of reach, combing out the tangles he was able to form.

It’s no surprise he’s laughing, dropping a bent elbow to Jasper’s shoulder, leaning on him in a half bend as he yucks it up like he’s the funniest person on the planet.

With a roll of the eyes, I hook an arm with Tinsley’s and make for the entrance doors, more than ready to escape this place for the next seventeen hours.

“Where you going, honey bunches?”

I fold my lips between my teeth to restrain my smile. If Duke gets even a whiff of amusement, he’ll take his efforts to a level that will far surpass entertaining. He’s the type where if you give him an inch, he’s going to take a whole cross-country road trip.

“Seriously? What the fuck do you keep going on about?” Jasper asks Duke before turning the full weight of his broody glare on me. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

It amazes me how he still hasn’t learned that he can’t intimidate me into bending to his will. When will he learn I don’t take orders? Hell, I barely take suggestions. I don’t care how sexy he looks with his rolled cuffs showing off his muscular forearms and dark ink decorating them.

A head tilting shrug is all the answer I give as I stride for the door. Through the ornate detailing in the window, I spot a familiar and, given recent behavior, unexpected Corvette idling in front of the school. It’s about damn time my brother showed his face.

“Savvy!” There’s a familiar demand in Jasper’s shout.

Halfway down the stone steps, I stop. Why am I not surprised he followed me outside?

The sound of a door opening has me glancing over my shoulder. Sure enough, Carter has gotten out of the Vette, elbows bent, forearms stretched across the low roof as he takes in the scene with narrowed eyes.

I don’t know what Jasper wants to say to me, but the best thing I can do for him is hustle down the steps before Carter decides to storm up them. Jasper didn’t do himself any favors spouting off at the hospital.

“Don’t run,” Carter scolds in his best dad voice.

I give him a Stop overreacting eye roll and slide into the passenger seat.

It takes another infuriatingly long minute before he stops trying to murder Jasper with his eyes, and I swear I hear him growl over the sound of Fall Out Boy playing through the speakers.

By the time Carter is seated beside me in the driver’s seat, my frustration toward him is eclipsed by my amusement at his alpha posturing. All I’m able to think about is how Cisco claimed being growly must be in our DNA.

“What are you laughing at?” Carter’s brow line is a harsh slash underneath his knitted beanie.

“Nothing.” His eyes narrow to slits. “I just think it’s funny when you go all I’m big brother, hear me roar at the world.” I turn up the wattage on my smile, letting all my teeth show. “It’s entertaining to watch…really.”

The harsh edge to his expression melts away, and he shakes his head then shifts the car into gear.

I spend the entirety of the car ride from BA to Carter’s without speaking. Given my brother’s skill behind the wheel and his lead foot, it’s not as impressive of a feat as I make it sound.

Still…

As he parks inside the garage and I head toward the residence, I wield my silence as a weapon. I’m pissed at him. I’m also hurt.

The first thing I do is go upstairs to my room to change. If I have to have an uncomfortable conversation, I’m at least going to be in comfortable clothes.

Dressed in leggings and a cropped sweatshirt, I tuck my legs under me, settle into a corner of the couch, and wait for Carter to join me from the kitchen.

He takes his damn sweet time pulling two bottles from the fridge—a blue Gatorade for him and a seltzer for me—before he finally makes his way over. Except instead of sitting down, the jerk stalls again by walking over to Merlin’s glass enclosure.

I wait for him, something I’ve gotten a lot of practice doing these last few weeks. If he doesn’t hurry this along, though, I can’t promise I won’t snap.

What the hell is he waiting for anyway? We’re alone. We’re not in public. There may be things I don’t necessarily want to talk about, things I’ve been putting off myself for far too long, but damn, can we get this show on the road?

The click of a latch shifts my attention off picking at my nail polish and back to Carter in time to see him pulling Merlin out of his enclosure.

I straighten from my slouch, my back lifting away from the cushion, one of my legs unfurling to drop a foot to the ground as I brace myself. Either what Carter wants to talk about is more grave than I thought, or he’s feeling guiltier than the selfish part of me hoped.

Carter sits on the opposite end of the couch, Merlin, his ghost morph boa constrictor, lifting his head, bobbing to and fro, tongue peeking out to scent the air as the muscles of his body move him closer toward me.

Holding out an arm, I leave the flat of my palm facing up toward the ceiling, allowing Merlin to come to me, the smooth bumps of his scales sliding across my skin.

“I know what you’re doing,” I state accusingly, keeping the volume of my voice pitched low as not to spook the Boidae coiling around my forearm.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I narrow my eyes at Carter’s attempt at playing dumb. Unfortunately, his distraction technique is working, the calm that infuses my system any time Merlin settles himself on me instant. The deep chuckle from my brother tells me he knows it too. I blame Leo and his claims about Merlin being my emotional support animal despite how true it might be.

We lapse back into silence, and I have to make a conscious effort not to bite Carter’s head off as he studies me as if he can determine my health status by sight alone. “You look good.”

I stroke a hand down the length of Merlin’s body. “I always look good.”

Carter scoffs. “You’re a brat.” I beam. “You would take that as a compliment.”

“You should too,” I offer. “You raised me.”

His grumpy facade fades, as I knew it would. I may feel guilty about the things he’s done to take care of me, but not once has it stemmed from him. He takes as much pride in my achievements and “how I turned out” as Pops does with Tessa. No matter how ticked off I am with him, that fact will never change.

“For real, though…” Carter sips his Gatorade. “How are you doing?”

I’d make fun of him for saying the classic Joey line wrong, but I can’t.

“You would know if you weren’t avoiding me.” Pain slices into me at the guilt that washes over his expression. However pissed I am, it still feels unfair for me to accuse him of keeping things from me when I’ve been keeping things from him.

But you haven’t avoided him because of them.

My chest grows tight, and I focus on breathing through it. I’m a mess of conflicting emotions.

“I’m fine, Cart.” I stretch a leg out to nudge him with my sock-covered foot.

These last few months have been challenging, to say the least. While I was the one thrust into a new world, a place we knew little about, and was without allies, Carter was the one left to deal with those facts.

My overprotective, used to people keeping him apprised of essential details, accustomed to people not daring to mess with those close to him brother had to sit back while the baby sister he altered his whole life to make sure was cared for was suddenly out of his realm of power.

Then to compound the issue—prior to the active avoidance—he also had to deal with not seeing me every day, not having me sleeping under the same roof, not being able to confirm with his own eyes that I was, in fact, fine.

It’s a vicious cycle.

Carter’s head falls forward, his chin tucking into his chest. “I’m sorry.” He inhales deeply, his chest expanding with the action.

“I know.” My forgiveness is instant. My brother is the last person I would hold a grudge against.

Plus, I’m sure, given everything, he’s all kinds of worried about triggering an asthma attack.

With my cheek pillowing against the back of the couch, I glance back toward the breakfast bar and note the empty space at the end. “You still have to go furniture shopping, I see.” I arch a brow, silently asking if he wants to expand on the topic.

“Gossiping assholes,” he grumbles. “It shouldn’t surprise me that you know the story behind”—he gestures to the empty space with his chin—“that.”

I shrug, letting the good humor of his overreaction to the engagement announcement wash over us. This time the silence is a comfortable one I’m familiar with.

“Has—” Carter starts, only to stop. He clears his throat. “Has anyone tried anything now that they know”—he waves a hand between us—“we’re…you know.”

A big part of me wants to call him out for how he overreacted about people knowing we’re related. I mean…it’s not like we completely hid our connection to each other, but I know when to pick my battles, and this isn’t one of them.

“Nothing crazy.” I recall how it felt like most of the school was waiting for me the morning after the engagement announcement hit the internet, but that was it. “I think for most it was more of an aha moment as they figured that’s why I wasn’t scared to stand up to their own kings.”

Carter’s scowl is back. “Yeah…the douche with a death wish.”

My lips twitch at the accurate descriptor for Jasper. I’ll never admit it to Carter—lord knows that would be signing Jasper’s death warrant—but it was how Jasper wasn’t afraid to mess with me that was the biggest draw.

For as much as I despise people calling me Samantha—and yes, I can admit the bullying was annoying as fuck—it was…sorta freeing. I love my brother dearly, but after a while, it gets old being Carter King’s sister.

Some people seem to forget that just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I don’t know how to build an empire.

“I don’t need people to fear me, or better yet, fear you, Cart.” This is the part his big brother side has a hard time grasping.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Carter challenges, and I call him out for sounding like a petulant child. His left eye twitches, but so do his lips. I love how I can crack his shell like no one else.

“You’re right,” I concede. “But I need respect too if I’m going to survive in the world on my own.”

Fear isn’t all it takes to rule; there’s also respect. It’s knowing how to leverage the two together that leads to the longevity of a kingdom.

“Take Gunderson, for example.” I shouldn’t smile at the scowl simply mentioning Scott Gunderson inspires. It may have happened more than a month ago, but the guys have told me Carter still bitches about me insisting he not intervene. “If he only feared me—feared you—he wouldn’t have sought me out to apologize.” It also would have taken more than one reminder to set things right for Tessa at BP.

Another tense silence settles between us. If there is one absolute in this world, it’s that Carter hates to feel out of control. Ironic for a guy who made a name for himself driving his car at insane speeds. The fact that the things he feels unable to control directly correlate to what he considers my safety is pushing him to his breaking point. We’re a lot alike in that way.

Which leads us to…

“Being MIA isn’t the only thing I need to apologize to you for.” Carter’s statement is so unexpected I completely forget about what I need to say to him.

“Uh…” I sputter. “What else?”

He shifts forward, propping his arm along the back of the couch. “Cisco told me you were less than thrilled about our…suggestion on how you could play along with this engagement thing with Delacourte.”

Accurate, but that isn’t the big picture issue anymore. “It wasn’t the plan I had an issue with, Carter.”

“Had?” He eyes me skeptically. Not at all surprising he picked up on the past tense I used.

I nod. “My problem is how you and the guys constantly leave me out of the planning process.”

“I’m sorry.” The sincerity in his tone rings true. Too bad experience has taught me it’s moot because it won’t stop him from acting the same way again.

“It’s fine.” I tell him about my conversation with Duke and how I enlisted his help in selling us as a couple for Natalie’s benefit. That Carter King mask grows stronger with every detail I give. “Ah…not as fun when the shoe is on the other foot?”

“Touché, brat. Tou-fucking-ché.”

We spend the next few minutes trading barbs, and for the first time in weeks, it feels like it’s us against the world again. Not many get to experience this side of Carter and most wouldn’t believe me if I told them how corny my brother can be, but it’s my favorite side of him.

Unfortunately, the side with shadows darkening his features, a clenched jaw, and a vein pulsing in his temple as he sobers is the one I’ve seen the most lately.

“You want to tell me why you agreed to play along with the Momster’s master plan in the first place?”

Damn. There’s no more avoiding the conversation when he gives me an opening like that.

I drop my attention to Merlin slithering over my shoulder to hide under my hair where it hangs down my back. Maybe we should have gone somewhere public. Being around potential witnesses might have helped keep Carter from epically losing his shit.

“Umm…” Oh, look how the light plays off of the white and gray in Merlin’s scales. He’s so shiny he must have shed recently.

“Savvy,” Carter prods.

Suck it up, bitch.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I inhale a steadying breath and admit, “I’m doing it to protect you.”

“Me?” Carter barks out a laugh. I know it’s not because he thinks I can’t protect him. He’s the one who coined the Savage name for me; it’s more the idea of him being the one in need of protection in general.

Still…there are times when it rankles.

“Natalie…” My words trail off as I try to think of the best way to phrase things. I’m not blind or stupid. Neither is Carter.

“Natalie what?” He keeps the volume of his voice low, but it doesn’t make it any less dark or dangerous—goose bumps bloom across my skin.

“She told me if I don’t do what she wants, she’ll…”

“She’ll what?”

I’m stalling. I know I am. Maybe a part of me wants to remain ignorant about his business dealings. Maybe a part of me is afraid knowing the details will ruin the illusion I have of my brother.

“She said she’ll give the police enough evidence on you to have you arrested.”

I have to look away when the gray of Carter’s eyes starts to eclipse the purple in them.

“Arrested?”

I nod, bile rising in my throat at the mere mention of the possibility. I’d never survive it if that happened.

“That bitch.” Carter turns and slams a fist onto the coffee table. The ferocity of the action makes me jump, and Merlin’s body tightens around my arm. “I knew something didn’t add up.” He slams his fist down again and jumps to his feet.

As Carter starts to pace, I slip my phone from the side pocket of my leggings and thumb off a text to Cisco since he’s the closest. My brother is a mass of barely banked rage. Tension radiates off him, his shoulders are up to his ears, and if it were physically possible, I think steam would be coming out of his head. His fingers are flying across his phone, and I can only imagine the typos the Royalty group chat will be filled with from him typing too fast. Guess there was no need for my text.

“Sonofabitch!” I jump as Carter punches a hole through the drywall.

The pressure inside my chest grows, squeezing me like Merlin around my arm from the sudden onslaught of sound. The mounting stress has me slumping into the corner of the couch. Stroking a hand over Merlin’s smooth, bumpy skin, I keep a wary eye on Carter as he resumes pacing.

Halfway through his route toward the couch, he comes to an abrupt stop, realization and clarity blooming across his face seconds before he rushes me, my body jostled by the bounce of the cushions from the force.

“She’s the one,” he says cryptically, pulling out his phone again before I can ask who the one is. “It’s Natalie,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “It has to be.”

What’s Natalie? Who’s he talking to? Why is he leaving me in the dark…again?

“It makes total sense. Our net was too big. We were looking outside when we should have concentrated our efforts closer to home.” Carter’s eyes rise to mine as he pauses to listen to his mystery caller. “Savvy said Natalie threatened to turn over evidence on us. What are the odds there would be two people looking into us?”

Air makes my eyes sting as they gape at my brother. My mind races as I blink away the uncomfortable sensation. Someone’s been investigating him? Who? Why? When?

Holy shit!Maybe Natalie really does have evidence. An invisible hand wraps around my heart, crushing it in its grip as it dawns on me that maybe she isn’t bluffing.

Lost in my mental spiral, I don’t realize that Carter is off the phone and speaking to me when he asks, “She said this to you to get you to agree to marry Delacourte?”

“Yes.” I shake my head. “Well…no.” His blank expression says Explain,so I go on to tell him how the first time she made the threat was to force me into moving to the St. James.

“Is this why you wanted me to be a St. James at BA?” It’s the only thing I can think of to explain why he didn’t seem as upset about the name thing as me.

“Yeah.” He nods. “I know it didn’t make sense to you, but I figured it was one way to help distance you from the situation when we weren’t clear on where the threat was coming from.”

He’s right. It doesn’t make sense to me.

“Do you think I’m ashamed of you?” Incredulity makes my voice squeak.

“No.” He’s quick to answer, but I see the flash of doubt he wasn’t able to snuff out. “I’ll fix this, I promise.” The way he says it makes it sound more like a threat.

When he jumps up to resume pacing, I long to go to him, to wrap my arms around him in the world’s tightest hug. As much as instinct pulls me to offer comfort, self-preservation holds me back from intervening. Carter would never physically hurt me, but it’s best to give him space when his hands flex like he’s looking for something to choke the life out of.

“I hate that you felt like you needed to sacrifice for me,” he admits, his stride lengthening, his heels coming down with an audible stomp-stomp-stomp with each hard step he takes.

His word choice reignites my own anger at him. “What about you?” I snap, my words clipped. “Isn’t that what you did when we were growing up? To help me? To make sure I had my asthma medicine and money to pay for it?”

“What?!” Carter whips around with a dropped-jaw glare, his foot clipping the end of the couch, causing him to stumble.

“You sacrificed things you didn’t even know about.” I think about Em. He tries to hide it, but I see the way he looks at the senator’s daughter.

It’s only been in the last year or so that they’ve been around each other with more frequency, but he’s yet to make a move.

Maybe finding whatever proof Natalie claims to have against him and destroying it can do more than merely keeping him from ending up in the big house. Maybe it will be enough for him to feel like he can take the leap with the person he wants.

Something has to give before one—or both—of them breaks beyond repair. Em and Carter bicker more than any two people I’ve ever met, and I’m including Jasper and myself in that equation.

Shit!I need to forget about Jasper and me. That can never happen. Not anymore. At least things ended before they got serious. It’s not like feelings were involved…