Ruthless Noble by Alley Ciz
CHAPTER 4
The imagesof the last few hours play across my memory like a nightmare that refuses to leave you alone no matter how many times you force yourself awake.
For the first time ever, seeing the way Savvy’s mouth needed to open wide didn’t inspire fantasies of what my cock would look like sliding in and out of it because I was exceedingly aware of her doing it in an effort to breathe.
The edges around Savvy’s lips starting to take on a tint of blue.
The paramedics arriving and being forced to relinquish my hold so they could lay Savvy flat on her back.
The sudden silence that became deafening in a room full of people when Savvy succumbed to her attack and stopped breathing.
One of the paramedics kneeling at Savvy’s side to fit an oxygen mask over her mouth, his hand squeezing the blue bubble thing that would force the oxygen into her lungs while the other checked her other vitals.
And the worst, the thing I see clearer than all the others, is how Savvy’s arm flopped over the edge of the gurney, practically lifeless as the paramedics lifted it into position.
Needless to say, the previous plans for the evening were canceled in the wake of such serious events and left me to pace inside my dorm suite.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I wasn’t here by myself. Unfortunately, Duke went to find his parents to talk about the whole engagement situation, and I have no clue where the other guys are. Probably at a party, if I had to guess.
I should text them to meet up, but instead, I’m here stewing in the things I learned, the revelations that were made, and the simple frustration over both people’s actions and their inactions throughout the night.
Natalie St. James is a cuntbag of the highest order. I don’t even think Savvy is aware, and, yes, I couldn’t hear every word, but I heard enough to know she threatened her daughter about the engagement.
Natalie hides behind an intricate mask, but I saw the complete lack of maternal concern over her daughter being taken away by paramedics beneath the surface. How is that possible? Am I the only one who found it weird that it was Savvy’s friend Tessa who rushed behind them stating that she was riding along in the ambulance? Honestly, if you ask me, I don’t think Natalie would have even gone to the hospital if it wasn’t for Mitchell calling his driver to bring the car around.
I may have been the only one to hear it, but I can recall Natalie muttering something about “such dramatics” while we waited for the elevator to return to the penthouse floor.
I seriously question if the woman is delusional. If it weren’t for Savvy’s friend showing up and taking control of the situation, things would have dissolved into chaos.
As I round the end of the couch in the center of the room for the millionth time, I finally snap. I need to know what’s going on and if Savvy is okay.
I don’t stop to question if it’s a good idea. It’s not—I know it.
I’m not family and will most likely be denied any information about her condition. It’s even less likely that I’ll be allowed to see her because it’s closing in on the middle of the night and well after visiting hours. Plus…if I am able to sweet-talk my way into finding out her room number, there’s the chance Carter King, or any of the other Royals, could be there.
Ignoring all the obstacles that could be waiting for me and the uneasiness stemming from caring for someone who isn’t my family or Duke, I’m out the door and sliding into the bucket seat of my Ferrari in minutes.
I don’t feel bad in the least having listened to Mitchell confirm—with Chuck—which hospital they would be taking Savvy to.
Driving like I do when I’m racing, it’s not long before I’m pulling into the parking garage closest to the emergency room. There’s a chance Savvy has been admitted by now, but I figure this is as good a place to start as any.
Unfortunately, I don’t see any familiar faces in the waiting room, but I am able to charm the nurse working the administration desk into divulging what floor they took Savvy to.
I hear them before I see them, their raised voices carrying and echoing down the mostly empty hallways when I make it up to the sixth-floor waiting room.
“If all you’re going to do is complain, why are you even here, Natalie?” Carter King stands with his arms crossed and legs spread as he stares down at a bored-looking Natalie.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Natalie?” Even seated, this woman manages to look down her nose at him. It’s a skill more than one chick at BA would kill to master. “I am your mother. You will show me some respect when you address me.”
King scoffs. “You stopped being more than the person who incubated Savvy and me the day our dad was put into the ground.”
Even I suck in a breath at the harsh bluntness of that statement. It seems the tension I was picking up on earlier tonight was mild compared to the resentment that really exists in the King family.
“Don’t call her that,” Natalie snaps. “Her. Name. Is. Samantha. You and your hoodlums bastardized her name, and it stops now.”
“You’re delusional.” King scoffs again, the sound of disgust rolling around in the back of his throat. He backs away from his mother and stepfather. “You,” he growls when he sees me lurking around the corner.
I figured the chance of finding Savvy’s room without being spotted was slim to none. I straighten the suit jacket I never changed out of after getting it back from the paramedics, grab hold of the lapels, and push off the wall to enter the waiting room.
“Is Savvy all right?” I ask, both as an opening to soften King toward me and because, deep down, I have a burning need to know the answer.
“Why the fuck do you care?” he snaps, closing the distance between us until the tips of his Jordans bump against the tips of my Chucks.
“Just tell me if she’s okay.” I give a quick check to the other four Royalty Crew members moving into position behind him.
“It’s funny…” He chuckles, but there’s zero hint of amusement to it.
Like an idiot, I take the bait. “What is?”
“Since my sister’s”—I don’t miss the emphasis he puts on the relational phrase—“first day at BA, you and your fellow BAssholes have been hell-bent on causing her stress. Yet here you are…” He waves a hand up and down in front of me. “All of a sudden caring about the consequences of your actions.”
“Look.” I slide a hand through my hair. “I’m not sure what Savvy has told you—”
A bark of a laugh has me cutting my gaze to where Wesley Prince stands to the left of King. His dark eyes are somehow filled with both mirth and danger.
Carter raises a hand as if to hold Prince back, my spine straightening at the perceived threat. “See…that’s the thing.” He pauses, and I swallow down the urge to ask What thing? “She didn’t.”
Huh?
A wave of laughter rolls through the Royals, and I get the impression I’m the only person not in on the joke.
Golden red flashes, and once again, Tessa is pushing herself between a King sibling and me. “He doesn’t understand how powerful your reign is, Your Majesty.” There’s too much sarcasm for any person to take the title seriously as she pats King on the chest.
“Always with the dramatics, Tessa.” Natalie crosses one leg over the other, her detestation for the perky redhead coming across clear as day. “You’re as bad an influence on Samantha as my unfortunate first attempt at procreation.”
Fuck, this woman is harsh.
“Yeah…because an All-American, World, and National Champion, future valedictorian, daughter of the fire chief is so not the type of person you would want being friends with your…daughter.”
Color stains Natalie’s cheeks as a snort brings our attention to the sarcastic commentator standing with Emma Logan. And yes, before you ask, thanks to my dad’s profession, I am able to instantly recognize the daughter of a senator.
“And that is why you are my favorite sister,” Tessa cheers.
“I want to say it’s because Kay is your only sister, but the lack of blood relation makes even that not quite true,” Prince comments.
“Shut it, Charming,” Tessa counters.
“Can you two not start?” King cuts off their bickering, and they fall silent immediately. “You both can argue the Taylor-Dennings family dynamics when we don’t have a BAsshole to school.”
Now is not the appropriate time for recognition to dawn, but it does anyway as the name clicks. I knew she looked familiar when their entourage showed up at the penthouse earlier. Eric Dennings was easy to place, and it’s almost embarrassing that I didn’t realize the tiny blonde was his sister Kayla. I should have. There was this whole to-do about her that went viral last year when she started dating Mason Nova, one of the U of J’s top football players.
Since my attempts to get information out of King were a bust, I decide to try my luck with the best friend. She seemed to like me earlier. We bonded and shit over caring for Savvy during her asthma attack.
“Tessa, how’s Savvy?”
“Ooo”—she bounces on the balls of her feet—“I kind of love that you use her real name now.”
“Don’t answer him, Tess.” King wraps an arm around her middle and shifts her into Prince’s hold.
“Why the fuck shouldn’t she?” I step forward, the lack of information pissing me off.
“Why the fuck should she?” he counters, bringing both hands to my chest and shoving me back.
“It’s a simple question.” I give him a shove of my own.
“One you have no goddamn right to the answer to.” Another shove, this one causing me to stumble, and I ball my hands into fists, preparing to swing.
“Whoa,” a voice calls out, and this time it’s the hot brunette jumping into the fray and casting a look around to make sure we haven’t drawn unnecessary attention. Thankfully the wall behind me hides us from view of the nurses’ station.
“God. Damn. It, Emma,” King growls, his arm falling from his fight stance to hook around her and tuck her in tight to his side. “I thought you girls learned your lesson about jumping into the middle of a fight?”
“Don’t try to tell me what to do.” She rounds on him, sticking a finger in his face, and damn, it’s impressive as hell how she holds her ground against the glower King gives her. No idea what this chick did to piss him off, but it’s even more intense than the one he was giving me seconds ago.
Carter curls his hands over Emma’s shoulders and tries to shift her out of the way, but she’s having none of it. Looks like the king Royal isn’t as formidable as people think. “What the fuck are you smirking at?” he snaps at me.
Whoops. Except instead of dialing back my amusement, I hitch my lips higher, letting them part until my teeth are visible with my smile. I roll my shoulders back and hold his stare.
He may come from a founding family of Blackwell. He may be older. He may have ruled at Blackwell Public years ago and garnered a reputation that is both feared as much as it is revered, but it only extends so far inside the walls of Blackwell Academy. BA is my domain. I’m the king there. I’m the one people fear and kowtow to. He may have his crew with him and my boys might not be with me, but I’m not backing down. Not in this.
My teeth clench as he shakes his head, dismissing me. These Kings need to learn to not underestimate me.
“And you…” Again his attention goes to the brunette. “Unlike when I asked you that question, I’m”—Carter punches a thumb at his chest—“not the one in the hospital.”
“True.” It’s Kay who responds instead of Emma. “But you’re the one who needs the reminder that your. Sister is.”
“Trust me, Dennings…” He scowls at the blonde. “I haven’t forgotten that. And…” That peel-my-skin-from-my-bones glare is back on me. “I also haven’t forgotten that he’s—”
I stumble back, not expecting the shove this time. I scramble for footing and instantly get in his face. Shouts, curses, rogue limbs, and two brave females entering the fray have me dropping back, hands held in the air signaling that I’m backing off.
“—the cause of her needing to be here in the first place.”
I’m about done with being blamed for Savvy’s asthma attack.
Did I know about her asthma? No.
Did I fuck her tonight? Hell yeah I did. I fucked her so good I had her coming all over my dick, melting for me despite how she tried to claim she hated me and refused to say my name.
I won’t lie though—seeing her pull out her inhaler shortly after I tried to fuck her into submission was enough of a reality check to ruin my postorgasmic high.
But…
She was fine after she used it. She wasn’t outwardly struggling to breathe. She let me…hold her.
Besides…Carter can try to place the blame on me all he wants. It’s not like he knows I fucked his sister. Forget about how weird it would be for a brother and sister to locker-room-talk their sexual conquests; there wasn’t any time for Savvy to divulge such information.
We fucked.
Savvy used her inhaler.
Duke came to find us to…
Holy shit.
I cut a glare to where Natalie picks at her nails like she has more important places to be than a waiting room while her daughter is hospitalized.
Savvy’s asthma didn’t spiral out of control until Natalie dropped the marriage bomb. It was Natalie—not me.
“You can try to blame me for this all you want, but maybe you should look a little closer to home.” I barely manage to get the words out as that it’s-never-going-to-happen-Savvy-is-mine urge strangles me. She can’t marry Duke. It’s ludicrous, ill-conceived, straight-up unbelievable.
Except…is it?
History is filled with marriages of convenience. American democracy is built and maintained by political power couples, with the strongest being those who have advantageous legacy pairings. I wouldn’t be surprised if this insanity was my father’s brainchild.
I can’t even count on the revelation about Carter King and his questionable business dealings being a part of the family tree Mitchell St. James inherited to put a stop to the union. Politicians and businessmen like St. James have been known to employ all kinds of “fixers” and experts who would be able to spin the facts into a story they want people to believe. Hell, Dad has a few of them on his speed dial.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” King puffs out his chest, and I’m not sure how much longer the others will be able to rein him in. I didn’t come here to fight. I will if I have to, but that wasn’t my intention for being here.
“You know what?” He shakes his head, ripping off the beanie he’s wearing with a jerk. “It. Doesn’t. Fucking. Matter.”
“You keep growling like that, Cart, and I’m going to think you’re part werewolf…epp—”
A chuckle rolls through the Royals when Prince cuts Tessa off with a hand clamped over her mouth. “Cut back on the shifter romances, Buttercup.”
There’s another wave of laughter from all the Royals except King. He’s still the growly werewolf Tessa accused him of acting like. Lord help us if she and Duke ever spent any time together. One person with a penchant for smartass comments at inappropriate times is more than enough.
Prince wipes his hand on his jeans, causing me to believe Tessa licked it before stepping out of reach. “I don’t need to stand here and take this kind of disrespect.” The way she can’t quite smother her smile makes me think this is an old dance for them.
I’m confused, to say the least. This glimpse into the Royalty Crew reveals a dynamic I would not have suspected existed. Where’s the exertion of power within the ranks?
“I’m going to check to see if the doctors are done with Savs.” I turn, shifting to see around the wall as Tessa starts to walk away. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to see what room she goes to.
King’s furious voice has me redirecting my attention to him just as Tessa disappears into a room at the opposite end of the long hallway. “This is the second—if not third—asthma attack I can trace back to you.” He tries to push me again, but Emma wraps her arms around the one he lifts toward me.
“What the hell are you talking about? I’ve never given her an asthma attack.” Have I?
A sinister smile spreads across his face as he starts to tick things off on his fingers. “The time you gatecrashed a Royal Ball. This one I’m not positive about, but I am pretty sure you are responsible for the night of the BA Alumni Gala. And now tonight.” He wiggles three fingers in my face before folding them over in a fist. “As they say in baseball, three strikes and you’re out.”
I know I’m not responsible for tonight’s, but I think back to the others. Nothing stood out to me at the time, but now that I know about Savvy’s asthma, I see our every interaction in a new light.
How many times have I watched her rub at her chest?
How many times did it seem like she was struggling to breathe?
How many times did I attribute the hitch in her breathing to her being turned on by me? And how many of those were really because…she. Couldn’t. Breathe?
Anger at myself, at being accused of something I didn’t do, at the fact that Savvy has asthma in the first place, at the beyond-complicated situation we’ve found ourselves in has heat moving through my veins. A beast beats inside my chest, roaring for me to lash out.
“Look at you with your cute turn of phrase.” I make a show of straightening my cuffs as my fists clench. “Well, I have one for you. How about…too little too late.” He remains silent, only lifting one of his blond brows. “That’s what this is, right?” I quirk my own brow. “You’re coming at me because of your misplaced guilt.”
“Guilt? Oh, do enlighten me as to what I have to feel guilty about.” The way King rocks back on his heels says This should be good.
“You’re Carter King. Your reputation precedes you. If people don’t know you, they know of you.” I pause and let my gaze run over each one of the Royals. “Yet, your own sister transfers to a school without using your family name. And then you stand here”—my wrist breaks as I exaggeratedly flounce a hand up and down in front of him—“claiming you know the things that happen inside the halls of BA, and you do nothing to put a stop to it?”
I let another smirk form as I watch King’s jaw pop out to the side before shifting to meet the dark glare of Wesley Prince.
“You would think your little guard dog here”—I jerk a chin at Prince—“would have at least confronted me. It is his pussy piece I’ve been moving in on.”
My body hits the wall before the pain in my face registers. My jaw aches, and when I drag the back of my hand across my mouth, it comes away with a streak of blood.
The nostrils flaring, chest heaving, and fingers of his left hand flexing as Lance Bennett and Cisco Cruz hold him back tell me it was Prince, not King, who punched me.
Fuck me, that hurt. The coppery taste of blood coats my tongue as I straighten away from the wall and play off the hit as if it were like any other I would take out on the ice.
“Tell me, Prince—how did it make you feel to see my mark on her?”
“Fuck you.” He bucks in his friends’ hold.
“No thanks.” I shrug. “Though I wouldn’t rule out another round with your little race rat, because the way her cunt squeezed my cock tonight was what wet dreams are made of.” I give a chef’s kiss and shift my gaze to an eerily stoic King. “For as much as you want me to be the reason we are here tonight, that honor gets to stay in the family. Because while you”—I point at Carter—“were too busy to be around, your mother”—I hook a thumb back at Natalie, Mitchell the only one paying us any attention—“had a little announcement to make.”
“What—announcement?” The deadly menace in his tone has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.
Projecting a calm I certainly don’t feel, all while acting as if I’m not rage-y at the prospect, I say, “Congratulations…your sister is officially engaged to be married.”