Cruel King (Royal Elite #0) by Rina Kent

I want to call him a liar and tell him that nothing will break me from Astrid.

That he can’t manipulate us into being apart.

But this is Jonathan King.

He didn’t lie when he said he’s good with patterns. He has a knack to see the future before it happens. That’s why he scores so many successful deals.

Still, I refuse to believe him.

If he could predict the future, why didn’t he use it to save his own brother?

I sit across from him, my shoulders crowding with tension. “Tell me.”

“I knew you would insist.” His voice drops to a murmur as if he’s speaking to himself. “James’ stubbornness. I swear.”

Then he starts talking, and with every word he says, something inside me fucking dies.

Jonathan was right. I should’ve never known about this.





40





Astrid





I never got a warning when I was crushed by you.



* * *



I couldn’t sleep.

I called Levi, but his phone was turned off. Gloomy thoughts ran rampant in my head all night, spiralling out of control and hitting me in the chest.

What if his uncle hurt him?

What if he needs help?

I’m probably being a tad more dramatic than usual, but their postures screamed a fight yesterday, not to mention that Jonathan King seemed scary. No wonder he’s Aiden’s father and Levi’s uncle. It runs in the family.

Come morning, I rush down the stairs with my backpack over my shoulder. Sarah calls after me to eat something, but I don’t stop.

I’m running down our driveway when the sound of an engine penetrates my ears. I freeze and stare at the blinding lights from the car.

Everything stops.

My heart.

My breathing.

All of it.

I’m plucked from the present and thrown back in time.



* * *



Darkness surrounds me and rain beats down on me like a vengeful creature. Small whimpers of pain fill my senses like the gurgling of the dead.

I’m lying sideways, half of me outside the car’s window. The other half lies on the passenger seat.

A sob catches in my throat when I glance to my side. I know what I’ll find, but it does nothing to prepare me for the shock of what’s to come.

Blood covers Mum’s chest that’s stopped rising and falling. Her eyelids are closed as if she’s asleep.

Only she’s not.

“No… no… M-Mum… no… please,” I try to crawl to her, but something hard and cold scrapes my side.

The whimpering continues. I look down at myself expecting it to be my voice, but it isn’t.

A bloodied hand grabs my ankle.



* * *



I shriek and fall back on my arse.

I’m back in Dad’s house.

A Mercedes that I’ve never seen before stays unmoving. Nicole is in the driver’s seat, glaring down at me after she almost hit me.

I stand on unsteady feet, my breathing rushing out of my lungs in a frenzy.

My chest rises and falls so hard, it’s like I’m about to faint or have a heart attack.

“Watch where you’re going,” She snarls as the car passes me. “This isn’t over.”

I’m not focusing on what she’s saying. I hear her. I see her. But it’s like I’m caught in an experience out of my own skin.

“Are you okay, honey?” Sarah runs towards me and checks me out.

“I’m… fine.” I think. I turn back around to watch the Mercedes exiting the house. It seems super familiar, but where have I seen it?

“Did Nicole change cars?”

“Oh, that.” Sarah dusts off my uniform as I watch where the car disappeared to with stupor. “It’s an old one, always huddled in the garage. Miss Nicole wanted some changes made to her car so she’s using that car temporarily. It hasn’t been out from the garage in years, I’m surprised it still works.”

Dad must’ve came in it when he used to visit us. That’s why it seemed familiar.

“Is something wrong?” Sarah asks.

I shake my head even though something does feel wrong.

I’m on autopilot as I walk outside. I keep staring at my ankle as if that bloodied hand will imprison me again.

It’s not real. It can’t be.

But Dad said there was someone else. Am I remembering them now? Is that the reason behind the bloodied hand?

I need some psychological talk with Dr Edmonds.

Since I’m eighteen, I don’t need Dad’s permission.

A wave of sadness takes over me as I throw one last glance at the house and Dad’s car waiting outside.

Yesterday, he didn’t drive straight home. He took me to the doctor for the morning after pill and a contraceptive shot. I tried telling him that I used protection, but it’s like my tongue was tied.

I felt more ashamed in that moment than when he walked in on me wrapped all around Levi.

On the way home, he didn’t speak a word to me.

For the first night since Mum’s death, Dad didn’t come to wish me goodnight. I waited and waited and waited, but he never showed up.

I was too cowardly to go and apologise because if he shut me out this time, I don’t know if I’d be able to pick up my pieces again.