Fatal Princess, page 9
Ri shoots him a scowl, which just lights him up more.
“No, I’m a deep sleeper, and this house is huge. But really? You’re together? Are you getting married, because I’ve always wanted to be a maid of honor and I love planning weddings and—”
“Luce,” Ri cuts her off with one stern word. Then Ri looks at me with a sadness I wish I could erase.
“Oh, yea, the whole game thing,” Lucy says.
“Among other things,” Ri says with a pause. “We are just happy to admit our love out loud. For now, that’s all we can promise each other.”
I take her hand and give it a squeeze.
Lucy grabs Ri’s other hand. “I want to hear all the yummy details, though. Hay-boy, bring us pancakes when they are finished.”
Ri flashes Hayes an apologetic look as her friend drags her outside to discuss how good I am at fucking her.
“You better hope you are as good of a fucker as you think. It would be pretty pathetic if Ri says she enjoyed us fucking her better,” Hayes says.
I growl. “If you weren’t in charge of food, I’d pummel your ass.”
He laughs and goes back to making pancakes.
“She’s a treat,” Ryker says, staring at Lucy.
“Yea, she’s a pain in the ass, but she’s been Ri’s only friend for a long time. I don’t think we’re getting rid of her,” I say as Loki rubs up against me, begging for ear scratches. I lazily comply.
Ryker looks at me. “I know you love her, and she loves you and all of that, but she’s still my responsibility to keep safe this week.”
“I’ll keep her safe.”
“I know you will, but it sounds like you have a bigger army after you than she does. It might be best to stay apart until you’ve dealt with that.”
I frown, not liking the idea, but it may be true. I look to Gage behind me, the one I trust the most, silently asking him for his thoughts. He just shrugs back at me.
“You can stay around and help protect her, but I’m not going anywhere. Together we can all keep her safe,” I say.
Ryker nods.
“Are you really going to stay in the game, knowing that even if you win, she’ll never want you?” I ask.
“I stay in the game to protect my men. As long as I show interest in Corsi’s daughter and it looks like I still have a chance, he won’t attack them. He’ll think that my plan to take his empire involves the game and nothing more.”
“Do you have a bigger plan?”
“If I do, I won’t be sharing it with you.”
I grin. “Fair enough. But you’re willing to die for your cause?”
Ryker nods. “I am, just like you.”
“Unfortunately, the men I have left to protect are very few. Most of the Retribution Kings want to see me dead.”
“They’ll come around. You’re new blood and will do things differently. Plus, if Odette Monroe is alive—”
“She is,” I confirm.
Ryker’s eyes widen. “Princess was telling the truth. I thought she was hallucinating after a broken heart.”
“Nope.”
“Well, then I take it back. They’ll never forgive you for throwing their princess away, only to fall in love with someone else. Relationships in this world are political. They are about the joining of gangs and organizations—making power moves. They chose you because they wanted something from the Black Empire.”
“They want me to destroy them.”
“Ah,” Ryker says.
“Any reason you can think of that the Retribution Kings would want to end the Black Empire? Kai and Enzo rarely start fights anymore, and they just stick to themselves.”
Ryker thinks for a moment. “Not sure, but my guess is an old grudge. The Retribution Kings don’t let any crime go unpunished no matter how long it’s been. I suspect the only way for you to get back into their good graces is to pay the price for the crime committed against them.”
“That would be with my death.”
“Ouch, they aren’t a forgiving bunch.”
Lennox glares at Ryker.
“No offense, but it’s true,” Ryker says.
Lennox shrugs.
“Then I would suggest you find something they want more than killing you or your family. If you win and marry Ri, you get the Corsi mafia empire. That’s far more valuable than anything your brother and sister-in-law have.”
I nod. “But the only way to do that is to divorce Odette, for which they’ll kill me. And then convince Corsi I’m worthy of it, which will be an uphill battle. Vincent doesn’t think I have anything to offer.”
Ryker laughs. “You’re the leader of the Retribution Kings and have strong connections to the Black Empire. And you just made an alliance with me. I’d say you have plenty to offer.”
“I need to make a phone call,” I say, offering no other explanation as I walk out of the kitchen. I roam through the hallways until I find a private room to make my phone call.
I have my brother’s number memorized. You don’t leave important numbers lying around in your contacts. And you never know when you are going to need to call for help and only have access to someone else’s phone.
I dial and wait and wait and wait.
It goes to voicemail.
Strange, but not completely out of the norm.
I try Kai’s number.
Siren’s.
Zeke’s.
Liesel’s.
Langston’s.
No one picks up.
I send a text to Enzo saying it’s urgent.
Nothing.
I frown.
Are they in the middle of a war? Is that why no one is answering? They are all locked up in a battle and can’t be bothered to answer a text or call?
I run back through the house to find Gage.
“I need eyes on my brother, on his family,” I say.
Gage just nods and goes to work on his computer.
I run my hand through my hair as I pace around the kitchen. My brother and his family are in trouble, and I’ve done nothing to help. In fact, I’ve made things worse by trying to stay away from my destiny. I should be there supporting them, not here, pretending I can be a leader, pretending that I’m enough to be Ri’s partner.
I’m not.
I’m not a good guy.
I’ve fucked up more times than I can count. I’ve hurt my family. I’ve made poor judgments. And they will think Ri is just another mistake.
Ri makes eye contact with me from where she sits outside, listening to Lucy ramble. Ri nods her head every once in a while and smiles at her friend, but her eyes never leave mine. They notice the way my shoulders tense. They notice the veins struggling in my forehead. They notice my pacing.
Ri says something to Lucy, and then Ri is walking toward me. I stop moving, waiting for her to get to me. Only when her arms are wrapped around my body, do I breathe again.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“I think my brother and his family are in trouble.”
“Then we have to go help them,” she doesn’t hesitate.
I nod, my head resting on top of hers. I have my own problems, so does she. But it means the world to me that she’d drop everything to help my family.
Gage scowls at his screen.
“What is it?” I ask, still holding Ri tightly in my arm.
“They’re fine, currently on Langston’s private island.”
“What do you mean they’re fine? Are you sure they aren’t being held captive? Are any of them missing?” I run over to stand behind the computer screen.
Gage tapped into their security system. He won’t be able to stay long until Langston or the system kicks him out. I’m surprised he got anything.
But there they are—my entire family. They’re sitting outside, around a fire pit. The adults are all drinking wine. The kids are mostly asleep in their parents’ arms.
I do a quick count. Everyone is accounted for and safe. They don’t look distressed.
And then Enzo looks right at the camera like he knows I’m watching. Like they let me get a glimpse in order to prove a point.
A second later, the feed dies.
I slump back.
Ri catches me.
She’s the only thing keeping me on my feet.
They all knew I was calling, and they didn’t answer.
Was Odette telling the truth? Did they hurt her? Take her?
I swallow hard against the lump in my throat, but it stays lodged.
I’m suffocating; I can’t breathe.
Voices are saying words to me, but I can’t register them.
I fucked up in the past. My mistake almost cost the family everything, but they said they forgave me. They said there was nothing to forgive. But I couldn’t stay. I found Odette. I found a way out. But…
I blink rapidly.
What if they didn’t forgive me?
I’m only Enzo’s half-brother. We’ve only known about each other for a few years. Maybe what I did was unforgivable.
A slap stings across my cheek, and I look down at the feisty woman who inflicted the blow.
“There you are. Talk to me, Beckett. What are you thinking?” she asks, gripping my cheeks and keeping my attention firmly on her.
“I’m thinking that my brother hates me. I have no family,” I say, completely defeated.
I look past her at the other guys watching me.
“Do you think Odette was telling the truth? Her crazy ass story didn’t make a lick of sense,” Lennox says.
I shrug. “Maybe. I don’t know who or what to believe anymore.”
Ryker licks his lips, deep in thought.
“What are you thinking?” I ask him.
His brow furrows. “It’s just…once you become a leader, that becomes the most important thing. It comes before family, before spouses, even children. It definitely comes before half-brothers. It has to. That’s how our world works.
“Enzo has to put his men, his empire, before you. You’re the leader of the Retribution Kings now. It wouldn’t shock me if he sent a letter to them declaring war. If I was him, I wouldn’t take your call. I wouldn’t talk to you unless it was in formal war negotiations.”
“Actually, it’s his wife Kai who is in charge,” I mumble back.
“Then she made the decision. She didn’t have a choice. You picked your side the second you took the crown. Now you’re on opposite sides.”
Fuck, I’m pretty sure Ryker is right.
I won’t be getting any explanations or evidence to prove that Odette’s story is false.
I look at Ri. We are completely fucked.
14
Ri
Beckett follows me to my bedroom, but I doubt there will be much sleeping tonight. It’s not because we’re going to have crazy animalistic sex all night, but because Beckett is a mess.
Every blood vessel in his eyes is shot, his clothes are disheveled, he hasn’t taken a shower, and he’s barely eaten anything all day. And he’s barely talked.
I assumed it was because he doesn’t trust anyone, but I’m beginning to think it’s because he’s hiding a sin that cuts deep.
I gently close my bedroom door and lock it as Beckett continues his pacing into my bedroom. I consider my words carefully, knowing he’s close to a mental breakdown.
“Tell me why you left the Black Empire,” I say.
Beckett sits on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hand. His shoulders rise and fall violently, and I’m not sure if he’s crying or just trying to catch his breath. I want to hold him, but he needs his space, too. I sit next to him on the bed and gently put my hand on his shoulder, letting him know I’m here for him.
“I can’t,” he eventually says.
“Why not? You can trust me.”
“It’s not that.” He stands abruptly, pacing once again while I stay seated on the edge of the bed.
I wait for him to explain more.
“It’s—I—I just can’t share yet. You would think differently of me, less of me. And I just—I can’t.” His eyes look like he’s about to spill enough tears to fill Lake Michigan. The pain he carries is overwhelming. It’s more than what happened to his arm, more than what I felt when he betrayed me. He hurt someone he truly loved, possibly even killed them.
My heart breaks for him. I want to take away his pain. I want to carry some of it myself, at the very least.
“There is nothing you could say that would make me think less of you.”
Beckett turns and looks at me sternly, his eyes a deep-sea of brown and agony. “This would.”
“Tell me; it will make you feel better.”
“I don’t deserve to feel better.”
I frown. “That’s not true. Of course, you deserve to feel better, to not carry the pain yourself.”
Beckett shakes his head. “This time, I do. It wasn’t like what happened with us, Ri. I didn’t protect someone I should have. They died because of me. The only reason I can even be with you is because you don’t need me to protect you. I never lied when I said I can’t be your hero. I’m nobody’s hero.”
“You’re my hero, and I’m yours. Whatever happened, whatever we are going to face, we face together. But we can’t do that if you don’t tell me.”
“It’s my burden to bear.”
I sigh. We are going around in circles. It’s clear at the moment he won’t tell me what happened. We’ve shared a lot of truths with each other today; maybe it’s not fair to ask for more so soon.
Instead of asking again, I just sit and watch Beckett pace until he eventually talks again. “My brother wouldn’t hurt me, though. None of them would.”
I nod, encouraging him to say more.
“Odette has lied to me so many times. I don’t believe a word she says, but I saw the video.”
“Just like you saw a video of me killing Odette. You can’t always believe what you see.”
“Yes, but that combined with how they’re reacting now… I don’t know what to think.” Beckett sits on the edge of the bed and then falls back in despair.
I lie down next to him as I stare at him. “Maybe your family realized that Odette was bad news, saw she was still alive, and they questioned her with the intent to return her to you. Maybe they rescued her and were about to return her to you. Maybe there’s an explanation that makes sense.”
“Maybe, but whatever the reason is, they should have told me, or they should have answered my call to explain to me now.”
I rest my hand on his chest; he’s right. So much pain could be avoided if we were all just a little more open and trusting with each other.
“What do we do now?” I ask.
“We win the game. We find a way to destroy the Retribution Kings from within. And then I talk to my brother and find out the truth.”
I nod. It’s all we can do, but even though our future seems bleak, it still hurts that he didn’t mention us. There was no mention of us together. I don’t care if we get married. I don’t care if we have to be kings and queens of a criminal organization and rule together or if we run away and hide out at the end of the earth. It makes no difference to me; I just want my life to be mine. I want the choice to be mine. And I choose him—I want him in my life.
He’s not mentioning it because it’s a promise that neither of us can keep, not because he doesn’t love me. But I need hope, to know there is a one percent chance of being together in our future. That’s all I need—one percent. Just the possibility will keep me fighting.
Beckett rolls over to look at me, and I see what he can’t say in his eyes. I have to remember—baby steps. We shared a lot today. We said we love each other for the first time. We shared a lot of history and pain. That’s a good start; the rest will follow. That is if we live long enough to survive it.
His lips brush mine. At first, I’m hesitant—I want words, not kisses. I want truths spoken out loud; not promises only whispered with our bodies. But as his lips brush mine, I melt against him.
I can’t deny myself a chance to have him. Not when life is too short. Not when there is no promise of tomorrow or even an hour from now, not in our world.
Our lips are the only thing physically connecting us as we kiss. We don’t reach out to claim more. We take our time, like two teenagers kissing for the first time and not wanting to take things too far.
His tongue parts my lips and sinks into my mouth. Mine battles back in a swirl of endorphins releasing in my body. One lick, and I need more—so much fucking more that my body literally aches for this man from my lips all the way to my toes.
“Why do I want you so much that it hurts?” I ask.
“Why can’t I stay away when I’m just going to end up hurting you in the end?” he says.
Neither of us gets an answer to our question.
Our lips lock, and we don’t stop again.
Our hands reach out and run up and down each other’s bodies.
I never changed out of my robe, so he has easy access to my body. My struggle to reach his skin is harder, but I manage to push his shirt up enough to touch the ridges of his abs and the soft tufts of hair that disappear into his pants.
What starts off as soft and loving quickly turns rough and frantic. As much as we love each other, we are also pissed the fuck off that we love each other. Our lives would be so much easier if we didn’t.
I should be focused on getting my freedom back.
He should be focused on becoming the leader he was always meant to be.
Instead, we are tangled up in each other. We’re destined to be the death of the other.
“I’m not going to be gentle,” he growls as he yanks on my hair to access the sensitive skin behind my ear.
“I won’t either.” I dig my nails into his chest until I draw blood.
Our eyes turn to fire. We are too perfect of a match for each other. Too fiery. Too independent. Too stubborn to surrender to the other.
It makes for fucking good sex, but it doesn’t lead to the best decisions outside of the bedroom.
I jump on top of him and ditch my robe, straddling him and pinning his arm above his head with both of my arms. His strength far outweighs mine, even with all of my strength pushed into his one arm. He won’t let me pin him for long. I need to use better techniques if I’m going to win this battle—and this is definitely a battle.
