Ruthless Noble by Alley Ciz
CHAPTER 5
The slack-jawed,just-been-told-aliens-stole-his-Corvette expression on Carter King’s face would have been amusing if the reasoning behind it didn’t make me want to beat the shit out of my best friend. It’s unfair. Duke isn’t the one responsible, just like I’m not the one responsible for Savvy’s asthma attack, no matter what King says.
You sure about that?
I hate the doubt that’s creeping into my thoughts because of this asshole.
Same as when Natalie first dropped the marriage bomb, all hell broke loose. This time, instead of an asthma attack, it was in the form of Carter epically losing his shit on Natalie. Things got so heated I thought security was going to be called. The only thing that prevented that from happening was Emma Logan forcing Carter to take a walk.
I was completely forgotten in the melee, and now I’m walking down the hallway leading toward Savvy’s hospital room undetected.
With one last glance over my shoulder to confirm the coast is still clear of Royals, I push the handle on the door and step inside the room.
The lighting is dim, only the ones around the perimeter lit as the TV mounted on the wall plays one of the Harry Potter movies without any sound.
My gut tumbles at the sight of Savvy in a hospital bed. It’s not like I was expecting her to be sitting in a chair or anything, but seeing her hooked up to machines is jarring.
A clear, egg-shaped oxygen mask covers her nose and mouth, the steady flow of air a quiet hiss in the room.
Her eyes are closed, lashes resting on the curves of her cheeks, which, thankfully, have lost their deathly pallor.
A blue and yellow hospital gown has replaced the ball-tightening dress from earlier. This time when I look at her chest, it isn’t to check out her phenomenal rack but to make sure it’s moving up and down without issue.
A blue blanket with a white sheet folded over the top is tucked in tightly around her middle. I hope the lack of tension in the arms lying on top of the covers means she’s sleeping and not still unconscious.
There’s a blood pressure cuff wrapped around one arm and an IV inserted in the other, with one of those little plastic clips attached to her forefinger.
There’s a portable console at the head of the bed, but outside of knowing the wavy line in the middle is tracking the rhythm of her heartbeat, I’m clueless about the other numbers. My hospital experience has been limited to the treatment of hockey-related injuries, nothing long term or requiring admission.
That also has to be the reason why my heart trips as I take another pass over Savvy’s prone body. Yeah, that’s it. It’s not like I have…feelings for her.
Possessiveness? Sure. I don’t like to share my toys; it’s nothing more than that.
“I can’t decide if you’re ballsy or stupid.” The comment has my gaze snapping to the left, where Tessa sits at Savvy’s bedside. I didn’t even notice her there, my focus on Savvy was so acute. A contemplative frown tugs at the edges of her mouth, and a little V forms between her brows as she studies me. “It’s stupid.” She nods, answering herself. “Definitely stupid.”
I shake my head. “I thought the Royals were against bullying.” I move to the opposite side and stare at her from across the bed. “Doesn’t calling a person stupid fall into that category?”
Tessa lifts the collar of her sweatshirt and buries her face in it to smother any sound, but I see the laughter dancing in her eyes. I get the impression it’s more at my expense than because she thinks I’m funny.
Once she composes herself, she straightens her hoodie, running both hands down the front before stretching an arm out to me. “Hi, Pot. I’m Kettle.” I shake her hand on instinct before the words get a chance to register, her grip tightening as she adds, “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but that would be a lie.”
“You’re nothing at all like Savvy described,” I muse.
“Let me guess…” Tessa shifts, leaning to slouch in the sizable padded chair with her arms crossed. “You heard how I’m sweet as apple pie?” I nod, which makes her smirk, except the way she arches one of her red brows gives me pause. “That’s true…until you mess with someone I love.” She points to Savvy. “That’s my best friend.” She bends and extends her finger with each word. “The only apple pie you’ll get from me is the one made with the Evil Queen’s poisoned apples.”
I widen my stance and fold my arms over my chest, not missing how she gives my body a quick scan.
“I hate having to correct you…” Fucking hell, the sarcasm from this chick. “But I’m not what you would call a ‘real’ Royal.” She uses air quotes, nodding to Savvy as if to say Like she is.
It’s been hours since I learned that Samantha St. James is really Samantha—or Savvy—King. I’m still not entirely sure how you get Savvy as a nickname for Samantha, but that’s not as important as the surname. I can’t believe she is a Royal.
Tessa sits up suddenly, spinning in her seat to look toward the door, gaze pinballing from it to me to Savvy and back before finally settling on me again. “Speaking of the Royals…how are you here? In one piece? Alive?”
Yeah, it’s confirmed. She definitely can’t spend time with Duke.
But won’t she? Her best friend is now engaged to him. Don’t you think they’ll be around each other now?
I drop my arms, wrapping my hands around the plastic side rail of Savvy’s hospital bed as if to strangle away the traitorous thoughts. One thing at a time.
“I slipped away while they were distracted.”
Tessa’s mouth presses into a flat line. “What did the Momster do now?”
“Momster?” I bark out a laugh, startled by the good humor bubbling up in contrast with my earlier anger, while at the same time double-checking that the burst of sound didn’t disturb Savvy.
“She’s fine.” Tessa strokes a hand down Savvy’s arm and links their pinkies together. “She’ll be in and out of it all night.”
The surge of relief the confirmation brings on is as confusing as the insatiable need I had to get it.
“Is she really okay?” I’ve already been in here a few minutes; I doubt I’ll get much longer before my luck runs out.
“Yeah.” I don’t miss the way Tessa’s voice softens. “She responded to the medicine they gave her almost immediately.”
I wave a hand at the monitor I still can’t interpret. “What’s with all this?” Would they need to track all those numbers if she were fine?
“It’s pretty standard monitoring for asthma patients.”
I give her a How can you be so sure? brow scrunch, and she verbally answers, “I’ve been friends with Savvy for as long as I can remember. Unfortunately, this isn’t our first trip to the emergency room because of an asthma attack.”
Why do I get a fluttery jolt of panic hearing this?
“The first number is her heart rate.” Tessa jerks a chin at the console, and I look at the ninety-two on top. “It’s a little high for a resting rate but still within the healthy range.”
“And the others?” I think the one with the slash is for blood pressure, but that’s the only one I can guess about.
“Her blood pressure,” Tessa confirms my assumption, but I appreciate the added insights she gives. “It’s also elevated, but that’s common given all the adrenaline dumps her body went through. It’s the next two numbers the doctors are most concerned about.”
“Are they for her breathing?”
“Yeah. Her respirations—the bottom of the two—is back into what is considered normal.”
“And the other?” I look at the blinking eighty-nine.
“That’s her oxygen saturation. The goal is to get it back up over ninety-five.”
Fuck that sounds serious.
The plastic rail groans in my grip. I hate…this. It’s foreign territory, and with each step deeper, things only become less stable.
Fuck this. I need to get back to the place where I don’t give a shit.
I’ve seen her. She’s…fine. I have nothing to feel guilty about—time to move on.
Still…
As I look down at Savvy lying there…that familiar draw tugs at my center.
A lock of hair hangs partially over one eye, and I shuffle closer, brushing it away and tucking it behind her ear. Letting my touch linger, I slide a thumb over the skin of her cheek.
Unable to resist—no matter how out of character it is—I lean over and place a kiss on her forehead, her familiar lime scent lingering underneath the harsh hospital antiseptic.
Tessa sighs, and I think she mumbles something about Romeo and Juliet, but I’m not quite sure. I’m straightening and about to ask when Savvy’s lashes twitch and her eyes slowly blink open.
Those purple pools are hazy, and it takes a few seconds and a couple more blinks before they focus.
Overwhelming relief slams into me, and the itch that forms underneath my skin urges me to get out of here and to do it fast.
A crinkle forms in the space between Savvy’s brows as her eyes bounce between mine, seeing me but not really seeing me.
Something hard brushes against my arm, and when a hand covers the oxygen mask to lower it, I realize it was the clip on her finger. “Jasper?”
Why doesn’t it fucking surprise me that it takes her lying in a hospital bed for her to say my name without a fight? The soft yet raspy sound of her voice scrapes across every one of my nerves. How many times have I heard her sound like this? It should be sexy, but I’m starting to realize it’s most likely a side effect of her asthma flaring up.
King might have a point, and I want to punch him for it.
I cover her hand with one of my own, ignoring the tingles that shoot up my arm at such a simple touch.
What the fuck is that?
Bracing myself with a hand by her head, the cheap down of the pillow flattening in an instant, I shift the mask back into place. “Leave this on, Princess.” I cut a glance at her oxygen saturation level.
Of course, she doesn’t listen, knocking my hand away. “What are you doing here?”
“Checking on you.” The duh is implied.
The furrow of her brow deepens, sheets rustling as she starts to shift to look around, only to settle for flopping her head to the side when her limited energy supply is depleted.
“I’m the only other one here.” Tessa giggles after the two make eye contact. “Now, will you stop being stubborn and listen to the man?” She mimes putting on a mask.
Savvy doesn’t, her mouth working side to side as she brings her attention back to me.
“You came with Duke?”
I rear back as if slapped, my foot catching on the edge of something with a clang. Not once has she shown an interest in my best friend. Why now? She could have asked about any number of people. Her brother. Prince. Hell, I would even accept the fucking mayor at this point. But Duke? FUCKING DUKE?
Oh hell no.
“No, Savvy.” I exaggerate the name, just in case she forgot I’m well aware of it given everything that happened. It’s not like she lied about her name—so why does it feel like it? And why does it feel like she lied to me specifically? “Your fiancé isn’t here.”
Her eyes squeeze shut, a choked gasp causing her to cough harshly.
Her motherfucking fiancé. What a joke.
That’s your best friend.
I tell myself to shut the hell up because who the hell gets engaged when they’re still in high school?
“Her WHAT?” Tessa screeches as the monitor starts to beep.
I stare at the jumping numbers without really seeing them, the roaring in my head as the blood rushes through my veins making me blind to everything except the rage that particular factoid brings on.
“Oh…she didn’t tell you?” I mock. “Maybe she wanted to wait, make it real special.” I spit out the last word with a sneer. “I mean”—I wave my hand—“you are her best friend after all. I guess there’s a chance she wanted to do it in some cutesy”—I add a shoulder shimmy to be a jerk—“girly way when she asked you to be her maid of honor, as I’m assuming she would.”
Shit! If this actually happens, it would mean I would be Duke’s best man. How the hell am I supposed to stand up with him and watch him marry her when all I’ll be thinking about is the quickest way to get her alone and bent over something to fuck her?
“Listen, BAsshole.” Tessa shoves out of her chair, bracing both arms on the mattress and leveling me with a glare. “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” She averts her attention to Savvy, forcing the mask back into place and leaving her hand to hold it there. “And…honestly, it doesn’t matter. Your jackass, jockhole, douchebully ways might fly most of the time, but not now.” She throws an arm toward the door. “Get the fuck out.”
Finished dismissing me, she leans over Savvy, coaching her to breathe as she did earlier.
I watch, hands clenching and unclenching as I take in the scene.
Without looking at me, Tessa threatens, “If you’re not out that door in five seconds, I’ll call Carter to tell him you’re in here.”
You know what? Fuck this. I don’t need this shit.