The Bad Royals Box Set: The Complete Royally Unexpected Series, page 85
“Got it.”
Jim looks at his watch. “Three minutes until the next injection. Let’s get her on the stretcher.” He looks at me. “Ma’am, would you like to ride with us?”
I nod, unable to speak.
This isn’t real life. This is a dream. A nightmare. This isn’t happening.
Everything is a dream. Ever since the very first night Margot went to the castle, I must have been asleep. This can’t be real.
Heroin?
My sister?
As the paramedics carry her out of the room, her body firmly strapped to a board, I glance around my sister’s room. The paramedics have taken the bag of drugs with them. Whether it’s as evidence or just to be able to identify the drugs at the hospital to treat Margot, I’m not sure.
The rest of her room looks normal.
This is wrong. This isn’t her. Something else happened.
I stumble on the steps on the way down. My legs are heavy. My tongue feels too big for my mouth, and I’m having trouble seeing straight. When the paramedics motion to the back of the ambulance, I stumble on the way up and smack the side of my head on some equipment.
“Oopsie-daisy,” Jim says, pulling me into the ambulance. “Sit.”
Oopsie-daisy?
He gives me a piece of gauze and instructs me to hold it to the side of my head while he clicks a seatbelt over my lap. Then, he and his partner secure Margot into the ambulance, and the sirens go on.
Jim sits beside me, peeling the gauze off my face. I stare at Margot, seeing nothing.
The paramedic’s touch is gentle as he cleans the wound on my forehead, patching it up with a small bandage.
“Shouldn’t need any stitches,” he says with a sad smile.
“What’s going on?” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. It’s scratchy, like my throat has been ripped to shreds from the inside. I motion to Margot, shaking my head. “What’s… How…”
Tears sting my eyes, and I don’t have the energy to brush them away.
“Your sister overdosed,” Jim explains. “We’ve been seeing more and more of these in the past few weeks. Fentanyl has started making its way into the heroin supply in Farcliff. We think it’s coming up through the border with the U.S.”
“My sister doesn’t do heroin,” I spit, even though the evidence in front of my face suggests otherwise. I shake my head. “She doesn’t.”
Jim lets out a sigh, patting my knee. The ambulance lurches as we speed through the streets.
Tears fall from my eyes, but I don’t feel them. I don’t sob. The only reason I know I’m crying is because the tears drip onto my lap, my hands, my arms. I hug my stomach, staring at my sister.
Jim’s watch goes off, and he swipes a sterile wipe on Margot’s leg. Then, in a practiced movement, he injects her thigh again.
“What’s that?” I croak.
“It’s the same drug we used earlier. It doesn’t last forever, so we need to make sure her heart keeps beating until we get her to the hospital.”
We have to make sure her heart keeps beating.
Because she took heroin.
Laced with fentanyl.
And overdosed.
Closing my eyes, I try to keep the bad thoughts at bay. The whispering, evil voices that tell me I should have seen it. I should have stopped it. I should have known.
The voices that tell me I was too busy worrying about my virginity and the Prince to notice my own sister was in trouble.
The slithering, hissing voices that tell me it’s my fault. If I wasn’t so jealous of her, I would have seen the signs. If I didn’t resent my own sister so much, I could have saved her.
If I wasn’t so selfish, I would have seen this coming.
When we stop outside the hospital emergency department, I follow the paramedics inside and shield my eyes against the glare of the fluorescent lights.
The smell of rubber, sanitizer, and that unique smell of hospital hits me. A nurse puts her hand on my arm and says kind words, but all I can hear is the voice that tells me this is all my fault.
26
LUCA
Breakfast is served in the casual dining room at Farcliff Castle. ‘Casual’ might be the wrong word for it. I’m greeted by a long banquet table laden with silver platters, piled high with all manner of treats and delicacies. There aren’t as many priceless paintings on the wall as the formal dining room, though, and the chairs are more comfortable.
When I walk into the room, Beckett’s head whips toward me.
“L-Luca,” he stammers, unable to contain his shock.
I arch an eyebrow. “Surprised to see me?”
Scanning the long table, I look for the special cinnamon buns with little chunks of apple in them. Not seeing them right away, I walk the length of the table.
Beckett’s eyes follow me. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning.”
I glance up at him. “No?”
His face looks dark. His eyes are nearly black.
I look away from my little brother, not wanting him to dampen my spirits. I don’t have time for his moodiness this morning. I’m too happy for that.
Not seeing the cinnamon buns, I opt for some scrambled eggs. I nod to the chef in the white hat, standing behind a portable stove. He cracks a couple of eggs and starts whisking them with a pair of chopsticks right in the pan.
Beckett appears by my side. “How are you feeling?”
His eyes search mine, and unease crawls up my spine. I turn away from him, ignoring the sour taste that coats the back of my throat.
The chef hands me a plate of steaming scrambled eggs, which I accept with a nod.
Beckett’s eyes follow me as I find a seat at the edge of the room. Finally, when I refuse to meet his gaze, my brother stalks out of the room with his shoulders hunched.
I shake my head, turning back to my eggs. At least he’s leaving Farcliff tomorrow. I won’t have to deal with his moods and irrational jealousy about Margot LeBlanc.
When I look up again, Prince Damon is standing in front of me. He’s wearing a broad smile. The Prince sits down across from me, stretching his legs out and sipping a cup of coffee.
“I’ve organized a tour of the hospital for today, if you’d like to join. We’ll start in the pediatric ward. Dahlia and I would love to have you around—the kids at the hospital might be a good audience for our tour. They tend to be a little more forgiving than adults.”
I nod. “Sounds good, Your Highness.”
“I think we’re on a first-name basis now,” he grins. Damon turns his head when Dahlia enters the room, and his face lights up. “Got to go,” he grins. “I’m giving Dahlia some bike riding lessons this morning.”
“She doesn’t know how to ride a bike?”
“Don’t ask,” he grins. “The car will be ready at noon to take us to the hospital.”
Watching them leave, something tugs at my chest. It’s the same thing that always happens when I see Damon and Dahlia together. A hint of jealousy and longing. I want what they have.
I know exactly who I want it with.
After breakfast, I wander down to the kitchens. Glancing inside the dessert room, I frown when I don’t see Ivy. The head chef pushes the door open and bows to me when he spots me.
“Have you seen Miss LeBlanc?” I ask.
George shakes his head. “Non, Your Highness.” His French accent gives his voice a musical lilt. “She didn’t come in for work today. Her téléphone number isn’t working, either.”
I frown, nodding. “Thanks.”
The sour taste in my mouth gets stronger, and a chill passes down my spine. I try to ignore the tingling in my hands, and the feeling that something is very, very wrong.
Damon is right—kids are a good audience. When I tell them the story of my accident and my recovery, their eyes are wide as saucers and their lips drop open. One little boy’s hand shoots up in the air.
“Yes?” I ask, nodding to him.
“Did you lose feeling in your legs?”
“Everything from the waist down,” I nod.
“Did you pee your pants?” He tilts his head, and titters escape a few of the children. The boy’s friend nudges him.
I smile sadly. “Sometimes.”
All the kids’ eyes widen. “Really?”
I nod. “I had to wear a device called a catheter, or a little tube that helped me pee. With the doctor’s help, I was able to regain control of my urge to pee. Let me tell you, that almost felt better than learning to walk again,” I grin, glancing at Damon and the staff. Damon smiles at me, nodding.
The children giggle, and one little girl walks over to wrap her little arms around me, planting a sloppy kiss on my cheek. My heart melts.
Our visit to the pediatric ward reminds me how grateful I am to be able to walk again. In all my weeks and months of focusing on Cara and everything I’ve lost, I’d forgotten what I’ve actually gained.
My health. My mobility. My ability to control my own bladder.
Ivy.
I thought my time in Farcliff would be a quick, painful stop on my way home to Argyle. I thought it would be torture to pretend to be polite to these people, all the while watching my brother parade his new wife around in front of me.
In reality, my visit to Farcliff has been incredible. I’ve realized that Cara’s betrayal isn’t as crushing as I thought it was. I’ve overcome so much already—why would I let one woman tear me down?
Thinking of Cara turns my mind to Ivy. That’s another surprise that came with Farcliff. I thought, at best, I’d have some fun with Margot LeBlanc. It would be good for my public image to get people to stop talking about Cara, and to start talking about another woman. I thought, selfishly, I could make Cara jealous.
I never thought I’d meet someone I actually care about.
A smile drifts over my lips as I think of her smile, her snark, everything about her that makes me feel alive again.
Then, just as my heart starts to thump, Ivy turns the corner in the hospital.
Her tear-streaked face is pale, with big splotches of red on her skin. She has a bandage near her temple. Her eyes are hazy, and her hair is a bird’s nest. She’s wringing her hands, keeping her eyes trained on a door just behind me.
I stop in my tracks, and the two bodyguards assigned to me pause.
“Sir?” one of them asks.
I ignore him. “Ivy?”
When she turns her head to look at me, her gaze knocks me back. Her eyes, usually so bright, are full of darkness and pain. She puts her hand to her neck, curling her fingers as if she’s trying to claw her own throat out. Her mouth opens in a silent cry, and my whole body turns cold.
Something’s very, very wrong.
“Ivy,” I repeat, taking a step toward her.
She inhales then. It’s a deep, shuddering breath that makes my blood turn to ice. As I take another step toward her, Ivy collapses into my arms with a sob.
“Margot,” she says between rattling breaths. “It’s Margot.”
I clutch her to my chest as my heart cracks. The pain in Ivy’s face is unbearable.
“Where is she?”
Ivy nods to the door, wiping her face with her hands. She takes a breath, glancing around at the royal procession. Everyone has stopped to watch, from the hospital staff, to the bodyguards, to Damon and Dahlia.
Ivy’s face reddens, and she ducks her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and disappears through her sister’s hospital room door.
27
IVY
Margot’s room is dark. The doctors gave her a sedative, so she’s lying in the bed, immobile. I sink into a chair next to her and let my tears fall from my eyes.
She’s out of danger now, but her bloodstream was full of powerful drugs.
I never saw any of it.
Never guessed that she was using.
Never wondered if she was unhappy.
Never asked her if she was okay.
I mean…heroin?! Who…?
I shake my head.
Guilt and shame churn in my stomach until I feel like I’m going to throw up. I’ve been so busy feeling sorry for myself—so busy being jealous of my sister’s supposedly ‘perfect’ life—that I haven’t even seen how much she’s suffering.
More recently, I’ve been too busy being a horny, hormone-addled mess with love goggles on to notice that she was spiraling.
How long has she been using? People don’t just start with heroin. She must have done lots of drugs in the past couple of years. How did I miss it?
Turning my head when the door opens, I see Prince Luca in the doorway. He steps inside without a word, closing the door behind him.
Kneeling in front of me, the Prince wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into his chest. I melt into him, allowing myself to cry for just a little bit longer.
Luca doesn’t say a word. He just holds me until I can take a full breath again.
“Are they waiting for you?” I ask, nodding to the door.
Luca shakes his head. “I sent everyone away. I’m staying here with you.”
“Luca…”
“Stop. Stop pushing me away. Stop telling me that we can’t be together. You need me right now, and I’m not leaving your side.”
He holds my cheeks in his hands, staring deep into my eyes. His thumbs brush the last of my tears away, and I nod gently.
“Okay,” I whisper.
Luca sits in a chair and pulls me onto his lap. I lay my head on his shoulder, and I tell him what the doctors said. I tell them about the drugs they found in her system. Heroin, and the one that they think caused her to overdose, fentanyl.
“I’ve heard of fentanyl,” the Prince says, stroking my hair.
“What is it?”
“It’s a synthetic opioid. Really strong, and really, really dangerous. In Argyle, it’s becoming a serious problem. Dealers are mixing it with cocaine, heroin, methamphetamines, you name it. They’re making it into pills.” He shakes his head. “People overdose often. Your sister isn’t the only one.”
“How do you know that?”
The Prince lets out a sigh. “I’ve taken my fair share of drugs—including opioids. When the doctors wouldn’t give me enough morphine to dull the pain, I looked elsewhere.” He kisses my temple.
“You took fentanyl?” My throat tightens at the thought of the Prince ending up in my sister’s position. My body stiffens.
He shakes his head. “No, thank goodness. At least I had a bit of sense left in this thick head of mine.”
Relaxing into his chest, I let out a sigh.
The Prince stays with me for hours, stroking my head and holding me until we both doze off in the chair. A nurse unceremoniously wakes us up as the sun goes down.
“Visiting hours are over, folks,” she says, checking Margot’s IV bag and marking something down on a chart.
“I want to stay.” My voice is strangled.
The nurse lets out a sigh and turns to face me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You can’t.”
Prince Luca squeezes my hand, and we both stand up. He puts his arm around my shoulders and leads me out of the room. When we get to the lobby, tears fill my eyes.
“I can’t go back to that house, Luca. I can’t. I know I’ll just be seeing visions of her on the floor. Her skin grey, her lips blue…” I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“Come on,” he says, leading me out of the hospital. “I’ll take you to the castle.”
I don’t have the energy to think about the ramifications of that. The tiredness has settled deep in my marrow, and I let the Prince lead me to his car.
I could blame tiredness completely, but the truth is that it feels good to lean on him. I’ve always been the one to provide support for my sister, for my mother, even my father at times. I’ve always been the strong one.
Now, I don’t feel strong.
I need help.
With Luca’s gentle touch, his kind eyes, and his warm embrace, I know I can’t resist him—and I don’t want to.
That night, when I climb into Prince Luca’s bed, I’m worried he’ll want to have sex. He emerges from the bathroom and slips into bed beside me, but his hands don’t wander. He wraps them around me and kisses the top of my head.
He knows I can’t have sex with him right now.
Even in the morning, when I wake up to his erection poking me in the back, he just lays a soft kiss on my forehead and rolls over to get up.
We spend a week like that as Margot recovers in the hospital. Prince Luca becomes my rock, and I lean on his support more than I ever imagined I would. His kisses are soft, and tender, and his touch is nothing but loving.
By the end of the week, when the haze of panic and sadness starts to lift, I look at him with new eyes.
He’s not the rough, sexy, irresistible man I thought he was. He’s rough, and sexy, and irresistible, of course—but that’s not everything he is. He’s caring. Thoughtful. Supportive. His strength gets me through one of the worst weeks of my life, and every time he drops me off at the hospital and drives away to deal with his own responsibilities, I miss his presence beside me.
Margot doesn’t speak much. She avoids my gaze, and her eyes are dim. Her skin, usually bright and glowing, is sallow and sunken.
I spend every day with her, even though she tells me I don’t need to. By the end of the week, Margot is strong enough to sit up and move around on her own.
On the day she’s going to be discharged, my beautiful, bright sister looks at me with a determined set to her jaw.
“The doctor told me about a facility in the countryside. It’s kind of like rehab, except mostly just a therapy retreat. Since I’m not a regular user, they recommended I go there.”
My heart flips. “Really?”
Margot nods. “I need help. I don’t even remember anything about that night. The doctor said that can happen with trauma and overdoses, but… I don’t know. I have a bad feeling.” Her face darkens, and she shakes her head. “I need to get out of Farcliff.”
“I’m proud of you, Margot.”
She gives me a tight smile. “I don’t deserve you.”
