Black Knight (Royal Elite #4) by Rina Kent

I haven’t released the star bracelet, scared it’ll disappear the moment I do. Just like she almost disappeared.

He sighs. “Go home, Xander.”

Calvin has seen me over the past few days and always tells me to leave. I’m like a dog who keeps coming back even after being told off.

I remain silent, but I don’t make a move to go.

Another sigh rips from him. “Lewis must be searching for you.”

I scoff. “He’s not. He has long conferences, he probably doesn’t know what time it is right now.”

“Still, go home and freshen up. You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

That’s because I have.

When I still don’t move, Calvin motions behind him. “Or go in.”

“I’ll probably make it worse,” I confess, my voice thickening with emotion.

“As long as it’s real, I don’t think you would. Besides, sometimes, things have to get worse before they get better.”

I stare at him for a beat as I weigh his words.

You know what, a human can be a ghost only for so long.

I make a move towards the door, but Calvin clutches my shoulder forcing me to halt in my tracks. “If you blame her for what happened, I’ll beat you up worse than in those newbie fights you get yourself into.”

How the hell does he know about those?

“Yes, sir,” I say, and there’s surprisingly no sarcasm like when I speak to Dad.

Maybe it’s because I respect Calvin and the role he’s playing in his daughter’s life.

“I’ll go grab a coffee.” He releases me and vanishes around the corner.

I continue watching him, making sure he’s gone before I step inside the room. It smells of antiseptic, but there’s also that slight lime smell from her.

Kim leans sideways, rummaging through her drawers. Her skin isn’t as pale as that night. Her hair falls on either side of her shoulders like a green halo.

She’s so beautiful, it’s physically painful.

And she’s alive, breathing, moving.

She’s alive and right there.

If I don’t do something, she might try it again, and maybe next time, Calvin or I won’t be there and it’ll be too late.

“Dad, did you see my Kindle? I think I put it here, but maybe –” Her words cut off as her eyes meet mine.

They widen to a huge green colour and sparkle a little, shine a little, but die a little, too.

Ouch.

I deserve that.

“What are you doing here?” she whispers. “Get out.”

I deserve that, too.

But I’m not leaving until she knows everything.

It’s the moment of truth.





23





Kimberly





Today, the therapist told me to say what I hate, that I should let it out.

I said I hated how Mum treated me and how the bullies at school talked about me. I said I hated fat shaming and diets.

But I kept what I hated the most to myself.

I hate how much my heart flutters when Xander is in sight or how I forget what I was trying to do the moment he comes into my vicinity.

Both his hands are shoved into his jeans. His lower lip is busted and cut and his ocean-deep eyes appear even more bottomless, exhausted, as if he hasn’t slept for days.

He appears a little bit broken, a little bit haunted, a little bit wounded.

Just like me.

And I hate that even more.

I hate that he was the one who found me and that he saw me in that state.

I hate that I’m grateful to him in ways words can’t express.

I hate that I keep looking at the door, expecting him to come in any second, and how I feel gutted every time he doesn’t.

I hate that I wanted to see him, even though I have no interest in seeing my mum.

But most of all, I hate him.

The boy, the person, who cut me off from his life and left me to fend for myself.

The knight I took refuge in, but he offered no shelter.

The person I shared my life with, but he erased me as if I were never there.

I trusted him and he betrayed me. I can forgive anything but that.

“Get out,” I repeat in a firm voice.

Now that I had my fill of him – as dishevelled as he is – I can live without wondering about him one more day.

I told Elsa and Dad about everything, although I had to struggle with the tears in Elsa’s eyes and how they both blamed themselves for not seeing the signs sooner.

They couldn’t have, because I was pro-level at hiding them. Besides, they both had a lot to deal with. Dad had his demanding work and Elsa had her complicated family situation and volatile relationship with Aiden.

Now that they offered their full support, I don’t need Xander to see me anymore.

I might be broken, but I’ll pull myself together. I might have fallen, but I’ll get up. There’ll be a day where I look behind and say I survived.

And I don’t need him to be there for that.

Xander sits on the chair Dad usually occupies, his attention never leaving my bandaged wrist. A small voice inside me tells me to hide it, but I squash that voice.

There’ll be no more hiding. This is me, the only me.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” I continue in my confident tone. “I told you to go. I don’t want to see you, just like you don’t want to see me.”