Tormented Royal by Lily Wildhart
Chapter Twenty
Islept like absolute fucking shit. Nightmares plagued me all night, so to say there are bags beneath my eyes might be the understatement of the century. If I managed even an hour of sleep, I’d be amazed.
I pull up at school with Indi in the Wrangler almost holding my breath. Despite the white flag that was waved yesterday, there’s a part of me that doesn’t trust it, even though East was there. It’s not like he was in on the bullshit that came before, so why would they listen to him now?
The whole Finley stepping out on Lincoln to agree with East thing has me off kilter too.
None of it quite makes sense to me, but if the truce means the rest of this year is going to be easier, I’ll grab onto it with both hands.
Now, if I can just get past my own trauma to actually sleep properly again, life will be great.
“I still can’t believe you passed on sugary goodness for espresso.” Indi shakes her head at me as she pulls into a parking spot. “There’s nothing good about pure espresso.”
I can’t help but bark out a laugh. Despite my extreme tiredness, she’s managed to keep me smiling and laughing ever since she picked me up this morning. “Tell that to any Italian and see how far you get. Espresso and pasta are basically a religion. At least to the Italians I’ve met.”
I remember when I went to Rome on my dad’s world tour. I snapped the spaghetti to make it fit in the pan, and the horror on the face of the Italian tour manager was enough to make me cry with laughter. Apparently that shit’s practically illegal there.
I sip on my espresso, exaggerating my gasp of joy as the bitter beautifulness hits my taste buds, and she scrunches up her face in disgust. “Just no,” she hisses, taking a sip of the whipped cream topped iced coffee she clutches in her hands. “Now this shit is good.”
She starts to laugh, and I join in, feeling grateful again that she came into my life when she did. The laughter is the most catharsis I’ve felt over the past twelve or so hours.
I try to fight the yawn that overwhelms me and makes my eyes water, but I lose.
“Will you be okay today?” Indi’s concern is heartwarming. She frowns at me again, the same way she did when she arrived at my place and saw my disheveled state. “I can stay till Smithy gets back. Or you can come and stay with me?”
I shake my head, smiling softly before yawning again. “I appreciate it, but no. I’m not going to get over this if I let everyone coddle me. I’ll be okay. Nightmares can’t hurt me. I just need to push through it.”
I pull out my phone, shooting a message to Smithy to check in with him like I promised I would.
“Surviving ECP on so little sleep might not be safe,” she snorts, before climbing out of the car. I follow suit, shaking my head because she isn’t entirely wrong.
We head into the school, arms linked and smiling. When we reach my locker, I start swapping out my books that I need for the morning. “So, I keep meaning to ask, but forget with all of my bullshit. What’s going on with you and Jackson?”
She’s uncharacteristically silent. Once I have what I need, I close my locker and look at her. A blush spills across her cheeks, and she wrings out her hands. “We’re okay. I thought it might get a little weird after you brushed off Raleigh, but it didn’t. He’s a lot sweeter than I expected him to be, but we’re taking things slow.”
“I’m happy for you.” I smile down at her, genuinely overjoyed that it’s working out for her. She brings so much joy to me, I’m glad I helped her take the leap she needed in that regard.
We head to her locker, while she fills me in on her family stuff. I'm the terrible friend who hadn't asked because I'd been drowning in my own drama, but I can listen. “You didn’t miss much. Though when Ella found out we were friends, she went a little crazy. I managed to ice her out, but it was weird as fuck. I’m glad my cousins live on the other side of the country. They all have way too much hype for me. I was exhausted by the time they left. They sapped my well of joy and positivity dry with all of their mania.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t around to help,” I say sadly.
“I mean, you were literally indisposed, you’re fine. I wouldn’t put them on you anyway. Families are weird.”
It’s almost like her words summoned my crazy-ass family. Because once she’s finished speaking, Blair stalks past us, bitch squad firmly attached to her ass. She flicks her hair over her shoulder as she passes me, and I can’t help but roll my eyes when she glares at me. I guess the muzzle Lincoln put on her isn’t one she was happy with.
I shudder at the thought of the two of them together. I refuse to think my feelings are anything beyond disgust. There’s a small pang in my heart, but that’s just a young girl’s crush dying. Once upon a time, Lincoln, Finley, Maverick, and East each owned a piece of my heart. As an almost grown-ass woman, I’m aware that I can’t have all of them. Hell, I can’t have any of them. But that young girl’s crush still exists inside of me somewhere whenever I get a glimpse past all of their bullshit and hate.
Maybe even in spite of it all.
But a young girl’s wishes are nothing but that. Reality isn’t even close to aligned with those wishes, and I don’t know that I’m all that sad about it. Especially considering everything they’ve done since I got back here.
Especially with what I’m positive they did to me over the weekend.
Except for East—he might be the only one of them who hasn’t completely changed. The others, though… Let’s just say there are some things a girl can’t get over. And there’s no reason that I can think of for them to have done that to me.
So I tuck that small girl’s crushes deep in the back of my compartmentalized heart and take a deep breath.
Indi’s eyes go wide as she looks at me. “Did you remember to do your assignment?”
Well, fuck.
* * *
After spending last night cramming with Indi and catching up on every assignment and piece of homework that I’ve left floating, and forgotten about, it occurred to me while we were working that Lincoln and I are still pretty behind on our Business project. Despite the threats of a fail from the creep that is Mr. Peters, I haven’t gotten an F yet. That wasn’t something I was going to deal with last night, though. So as I head to my Business class, I steel myself against seeing Mr. Peters and talking to Lincoln to catch up on everything.
I didn’t sleep much again last night, the nightmares that haunt me when I slip away into sleep are fucking awful, and I woke up hoarse from screaming again this morning. To say I’m tired is an understatement, and the thought of dealing with Lincoln today doesn’t exactly fill me with joy.
Lincoln wasn’t an ass to me yesterday, but he wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy either. I’m not sure Lincoln Saint has a warm and fuzzy side. It’s as if he let East take all of the laid-back and chill vibes as they grew up, and he took on the responsibility that comes with being a Saint in Echoes Cove, growing icier as he did it. I can’t say for certain about any of it since I wasn’t here, but it’s sad to see how much he’s changed since I left.
I slide into my seat as the final bell rings and Mr. Peters strolls into the room. A shudder crawls down my spine even just seeing him, the same way it has every time since his disgusting proposal. It would seem the fates are on my side today, though, because he sits down and looks around the room, seeming about as awake as I feel. After a moment, he says, “Buddy up with your partners and discuss your project. I expect your second proposal after Labor Day weekend.”
I look over and see Lincoln scowling at me. Awesome.
“What are you looking at?” he snaps, and I roll my eyes at him.
The guy is as mercurial as a thunderstorm. It’s freaking exhausting. “Well, you are my partner.” I sigh. “I was trying to work out how the fuck we’re going to catch up.”
“We don’t have anything to catch up on,” he snarls before reaching into his bag and dropping a folder onto my desk. “All you need to do is read up and write your half of the proposal.”
“Not this again.” I huff. As if what happened last time he pulled this wasn’t bad enough. I can’t help but frown at him before flicking through the file. An icy rage fills my veins. “I don’t expect you to do all of the work, Lincoln. I’m fully capable of doing my part. After last time, I started my own goddamn proposal. Let me read yours, and I’ll work out how to merge them.”
“I will not risk my GPA, or my chance to escape this place, on some little rock princess who has no idea how the real world works.”
I lean back in my chair, blinking at him. I have no idea where this animosity is coming from, but he looks as tired as I feel. I take a deep breath and decide to take the high road. Snapping at him won’t get us anywhere. He also doesn’t need to know how much I need my GPA to be on track either. “So much for our truce,” I mutter. “I’ll take a look at what you’ve done, and I’ll give you my feedback before the weekend so we can finish our proposal before it’s due in.”
He responds with a grunt before pulling an identical file from his bag and opening it. “There isn’t anything that needs feedback. The work is solid.”
“I’m sure it is.” I sigh, exasperated. Why does he take everything I say the wrong way? I decide the truce is on a very thin layer of ice, so rather than pushing, I turn to the work he’s already done and start reading. I slide him over the work I’ve done too, since I'm not risking another chance at a fail or another proposition from our slimebag teacher. There’s no way in hell I’m getting on my knees for him.
The first part of our project was to write a proposal for a business venture, with basic scaling and projections. The second part is to rework it based on feedback with full-scale profit projections. I worked blind, considering I didn’t have feedback on the first part; and as I read through Lincoln’s work, I kind of hate how solid the project is that he’s put together.
There are definitely tweaks to be made and other profit streams that could be explored but considering he went at this alone, he’s done a fucking lot of work in a short space of time. I am loath to admit that to him though. Especially when he already has a smug asshole way about him. If he was the Lincoln I used to know, I’d have zero issues letting him know how good of a job he did.
But that isn’t the situation we’re in, so I use the time to sit and scribble notes on the pages while the other groups in the class discuss their projects. The silence wouldn’t bother me if I couldn’t feel his eyes on me. I look up, watching him practically twitch as I make notes on his well thought out pages. But I refuse to let him do all of the work alone. He might think I’m a useless princess now, but he should know better than that. I haven’t done anything to give him that impression of me. I take a deep breath and smile softly at him. “It’s a solid plan, but I think there are a few tweaks we could make to widen revenue streams and increase the profit margins.”
He looks a little shocked as he leans back in his seat, nodding stiffly before turning to his version of the file. I do a mental fist pump at shocking him into not snarling at me and take the win. Maybe at some point, he’ll realize he actually has no clue about the girl I grew up to be and clue in to the fact that I’m far more competent than he wants to give me credit for.
I go through and add notes, waiting until the bell rings before handing him the file. “Have a look, see what you think. If you agree with what I’ve done, we can merge our two plans, since they aren’t worlds away, then write up the final proposal together.”
He takes the file from my hand, nodding once before stalking from the room. I can’t quite tell if this was a total win, but I head to my next class feeling way lighter than I did before I came to this one.
* * *
“Do you have plans for next weekend?”
I glance over my shoulder at Indi who’s sitting on the counter of the island in my kitchen. Rooting through the fridge trying to find something to eat is a disappointing endeavor, so I sigh and shut it before turning my attention back to her. I sit down at the island as I consider her question.
I squash down the ripple of sadness that runs through me. Dad and I always used to just get away from everything on Labor Day weekend. We’d escape the insanity that his lifestyle brought and find a remote cabin somewhere. I’m not really one for nature, but staying in a log cabin with beautiful water views and making S’mores at night over an open fire was always a really nice escape. It won’t happen this year, and I’m trying not to focus on just how much that thought hurts. “For the long weekend? No, I was just going to curl up in the theatre room in my pajamas and pretend the world doesn’t exist. Why?”
She shrugs before jumping down and sliding into the chair next to mine. “I was thinking maybe we could get away for the weekend. You could definitely use some time away from here. I was thinking of a spa weekend. Ultimate relaxation and all the sleep rolled into one weekend.”
I smile wide. That actually sounds kind of perfect. It might not be what I’ve always done, but it might give me a chance to escape the ever-haunting memories of this house. Both of my dad and what happened recently. I might actually get some sleep. “Yes, let’s do it. That sounds amazing.”
Grinning wide, she pulls her phone out of her pocket, and after tapping at her screen, she shows me the site of a mountain spa. “I was thinking we could go to this place.”
I almost can’t contain my excitement as I take in the images from the website. It looks so fucking zen, I can’t even handle it. It looks perfect. “Yes, let’s book it. Right now. I need this way too much.”
I grab my purse from my bag while she puts all of the details of our stay in. “You don’t need to pay, I can cover my half.” She shoves her hands at me as I go to hand her my card, but I shake my head and refuse to take it.
“Hush, what’s the point in having money if I can’t spend it on the people I love?” I shrug and hand her my card anyway. Money hasn’t ever been an issue, and I know I’m lucky that I can say that. I mean it, though, I know she has plenty of her own money; but I couldn’t spend what my dad made in three lifetimes, so if I can do this, I’m going to.
She books it in my name and grins at me, showing me the confirmation. “Thank you, I mean you totally paid for my birthday weekend away, so I feel like I’m taking advantage—”
“Hush!” I cut her off, laughing. “No one is taking advantage.”
Her phone buzzes, pulling her attention away from the topic at hand, and I see Jackson’s name on the screen before she takes it back from me. She smiles down at her phone, and my heart soars for her. I love how happy she is, but I swear to God; if he hurts her, I will literally pop his nut sack. Pop it.
“Do you mind if I jet?” she asks, biting at her lip.
I shake my head. I don’t want to be alone, but I could totally try to head to bed early. I might not get much sleep, but I figure the earlier I start trying, the more I might get in overall. “You’re good. And don’t worry about getting me in the morning either. I can drive in.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, conflict written all over her face.
I grab her bag and push it at her, laughing. “Of course I’m sure, go on, get. Go enjoy that boy of yours. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She grins, taking her bag from my hands and slides her books from the counter into it. “Thank you. You absolutely will. I’ll grab coffee and meet you in the parking lot.”
“Sounds perfect,” I say as I walk her to the front door. I disable the alarm and open the door to let her out. “Have fun.”
She practically skips to her car, waving once she’s buckled in. I open the gate from the remote system as she reaches it and wait for the lock to engage before resetting the alarm. Some might call the level of security I have here overkill, but all things considered, I don’t think even Fort Knox would be overkill at this point. I’ve been attacked in my home twice, and Smithy was attacked once. That’s three times too many, and I’m not willing to take chances anymore.
After making sure all of the doors and windows are shut, I manage not to run up the stairs tonight, and I mark that down as progress. At this point, I’ll literally claim any win I can. I head straight to my bathroom as I put my hair up in a messy bun and jump in the shower to wash the day off. It’s been unseasonably warm today, and I feel kind of gross.
I pad my way into my room in my towel, grabbing a pair of boy shorts and a tank from my dresser along the way. It’s way too warm for full pajamas, and I open the balcony to let some of the cool night air into the room. The smell of the flowers from the trellis filters in, and I smile. Wild roses are some of my absolute favorites.
It doesn’t take me long to brush out my hair, then shut my balcony door before climbing into bed. I feel so fucking tired after the last few days that it doesn’t take long for sleep to pull me under.
I wake up screaming less than forty minutes later and bury my face into my pillow. All I want is one night of sleep—just one—so I set up my podcasts again and try to calm myself enough to sleep. When I see that it’s two in the morning on the screen of my phone, I groan.
As sleep finally starts to pull me under once more, I hear noises outside and freeze. I want to move, to run away, but I’m paralyzed by fear. My fight or flight response is, apparently, just die. Awesome.
The balcony door creaks, and I manage to get control of myself. I flip over, sitting up to face the door, and see Lincoln stalking toward me in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He glares at me and climbs right into my fucking bed.
“What are you doing?” I screech, my fear and anger mashing together.
I grab the sheets, fully ready to kick his ass out when he lies down, grumbling, “I can hear you screaming from my room. Now lie down and sleep, I’m not going anywhere.”
I scoff. The audacity of this guy. But as he pulls me onto the bed, I can’t deny how much safer I feel with him here. Which is ridiculous considering I’m pretty sure he’s the cause of my nightmares, but I never claimed I made sense.
I turn my back to him and close my eyes, feeling him move closer to me as he tucks me against his chest, his arm draped over me. Sleep is already dragging me under, so I don’t bother complaining. I’m not sure it’d make a difference anyway. As I start to slip away, I hear him murmur, “You don’t need to cry anymore. I’m here now.”
* * *
When I wake up, Lincoln’s long gone, and for a minute, I think I dreamed of him being here. Until I roll over and catch his scent on the pillow.
So fucking weird.
Him being here was not what I expected when I heard someone climbing the trellis.
Lincoln Saint doesn’t seem like the type to sneak in my window anymore. I didn’t think he cared enough to even notice my screams.
But apparently, I am Jon Snow because I appear to know nothing.
I play it all over again in my head, trying desperately to work out why he would come over here. I eventually decide that I’m not going to figure out the enigma that is Lincoln Saint without coffee, if I can even work him out at all.
I try to push it from my mind and get ready for the day. I shoot Smithy a message to check in on him and his sister. They’re a few hours behind me, so hopefully I don’t wake him. Once I roll out of bed, I head to the shower, trying to clear my mind a little. I slept like the fucking dead after Lincoln came over, and I still feel dazed.
The shower helps a bit, but after I’m dressed, I still stumble down to the coffee pot like it holds all of the answers to life. As I’m waiting for it to brew, my phone buzzes, and I smile when I see Smithy’s name.
Smithy: Good Morning, Miss Octavia **smiley face emoji** My sister has taken a turn for the better and things are looking up. I can be home in a few weeks, I hope. Just need to get her back home and settled with a nursing team.
Me: I’m so glad! You don’t have to rush, things are all quiet here now. Take care of your sister, I’m absolutely fine.
Smithy: If you say so. I did, however, arrange for a grocery delivery. It will be put away before you’re back from school. I asked Mrs. Potts, who looks after the Saint household, to sort it out for you. Master Saint will ensure the alarm system is sorted out.
Me: Smithy, you rock.
I open the refrigerator and wince. I probably should have thought to go shopping myself considering how bare it is in there.
Smithy: I know. I’ve asked her to prepare you some meals so you don’t live off of take out too.
The guy’s a total fucking sweetheart. I miss him so much, and it’s hard to remember how I survived without him. I send him a quick thanks before realizing I need to forage food before school. I grab my bag from the counter, making sure I have my purse and keys, and head out to the garage. This morning calls for a breakfast burrito, STAT.
I jump in the car and head toward the only place in town that does them. It doesn’t take long for me to weave through the early morning traffic and hit up Raleigh’s family restaurant, smiling at his sister as I enter. The food smells beyond amazing once I have the take-out bag in hand, so I take it out to my car and basically inhale it before heading to school. I pull into the space beside Indi to find her waving at me like a kid on a sugar high. I guess she had a good night.
Climbing from the car, I hear her door slam, and then there’s a chocolatey, whipped cream delight of a coffee floating in front of my face. I grin, taking it from her as she sips on hers and bounces on the spot. “Morning, angel face!”
I laugh at how peppy she is this morning. “Morning, cupcake?”
“You seem cheerier than you have been,” she comments as she links arms with me, and I decide to keep the Lincoln thing to myself for now. I don’t understand it, and I don’t trust it. The last thing I want is her to think it was something I instigated. She’s starting to see the truth of who he is and likes it about as much as I do, which is to say, not at all. I’m not going to poke the mama bear.
“I slept better. And I had a breakfast burrito. What’s not to be peppy about?”
She beams at me as we enter the school. “You mean other than these unhallowed halls? Absolutely nothing.”
* * *
The week has been strangely quiet, and since Indi’s heading off campus for lunch with her mom, I decided to spend my break in the Music rooms. The longer I spend being back here in Echoes Cove, the more I want to be around music.
After my dad died, I was a little worried I’d never play again, and while I’ve played piano, I haven’t picked up a guitar yet.
Today, that’s going to change.
I pick up the acoustic that sits on a stand in the corner of the room and drop onto one of the stools with it in my hands. The smooth of the wood and the rough of the strings transports me to a different time entirely. I go all the way back to the time my dad first gave me a guitar. I revisit learning different chords from him. To the first time he asked me to play a track with him for one of the songs on his album… The first time in a studio. So many memories flash behind my eyes, and I smile despite the tear that rolls down my cheek.
I pick at the strings. The sounds of the first song I wrote with him echo around the room, and I close my eyes, going back to a time before I felt broken. A time when I wasn’t so sad. A time before…
I let the music take me away to another place, the sting of the metal strings a comfort I’d forgotten. The acoustics in this room remind me of some of the places we’ve played before. It’s like I’m back there, with him, and with my eyes closed, I can pretend that’s exactly where I am.
I lose myself to the feelings, the music, and the memories. It isn’t until the bell rings that I open my eyes and see that Finley is standing there, silently watching me, and I startle.
How wrapped up was I to not notice his presence that almost chokes me now? He stalks up to me, and the stool I’m sitting on puts me almost eye to eye with him. He clasps my cheek in his hand, shocking the hell out of me as he rests his forehead on mine.
I close my eyes at the feeling of him this close, and my heart races. I have no idea what this is or why I’m so calm about it, but there’s something so serene about the look in his eyes that makes me sit here with him.
It only lasts a few seconds before he pulls back, stepping away and looking torn.
“I’m sorry,” is all he says before he stalks away, leaving me so far beyond confused my world spins.
There are too many things he could be sorry for at this point, but that sorry felt different.
Like goodbye.