Royal Havoc

30. Secrets

thirty

Secrets

Tulip: 2013 Age: 16

T he second ceiling light to the left of my new room flickers, reminding me of lightning stabbing at the darkness. I’ll admit the view from this room sucks compared to the old one. I used to be able to see the river, but now all I can see is the front porch where he left me all those years ago. It’s a day I’ve tried to scrub from my memory for years.

I won’t complain. I’ll take the crappy lighting and horrible view because B’s room is across the hall. Seeing him whenever I want makes up for everything else.

Speaking of seeing him… his shocked face watching me as I moved in was hysterical. I’ve told him numerous times that someday, our rooms would be close again. It's not my fault he refused to believe me.

This time it's even better because we can see each other when we talk. Side by side sucked.

I think he’s mad. He asked me how I pulled it off, and I wouldn’t give away my secret. A girl needs to have some privacy, which, if he really thinks about it, it's not that hard to solve.

The halls are assigned by age. Now that I’m sixteen, I was reassigned to the 16-20 hall. Normally, girls are at one end and boys at the other. Right now, there are only two guys, B and Ricky. But Ricky’s a wild card and mostly gets sent to the hole. He claims he would rather listen to his own voices alone. Anyway, it wasn’t hard for me to convince the doc. He made me swear to be a good girl and gifted me the room I requested.

Footsteps in the hall have me shooting from my desk chair. I’ve been worried ever since I saw Dan check B out of his room earlier. The doc doesn’t do evening meetings; he only handles emergencies after lights out. So I’ve been freaking out for a while.

Dan waits beside B’s door while B takes off his shoes in the hallway. I watch B spin around in the middle of his room, then hear Dan call the all-clear before locking him inside.

I wait until Dan’s footsteps disappear, letting me know the coast is clear and he’s made it to the guard’s desk in the middle of the hall.

Locating the spoon hidden underneath one of my drawers, I use it to pry open the little slot on the door. He does the same and waits for me to speak.

The dark hallway has me struggling to see him. “Where did you go?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nowhere. Let it go.”

My brows dip, confusion tugging at me. I watch his head fall forward, forehead resting on the metal door. “Tell me,” I order, hating secrets.

“Don’t worry about it, princess. It won’t happen again.”

“Help!” I yell loudly, pounding my hand on the metal door.

“Stop!” B growls.

“What’s wrong with your lips? Are they bleeding?”

“No, calm down. I’m fine,” he argues quietly, glaring across the short distance. “They’re chapped.”

I swear I’ll shred anyone that touches him to pieces.

“Dan, help me!” I yell, banging on the door, letting out the anger B’s secret awakens.

“Don’t,” he begs, pleading with sad eyes.

Footsteps rush towards us as I hear his metal slot click shut. “What’s wrong?” Dan asks, peering through the small window at me.

“I’m sick. Please take me to the doc,” I beg, standing in the middle of my room, arms extended to both sides.

He nods, and I turn quickly before rushing to the door as he gives the all-clear. He follows me down the hall when I bypass my shoes. I’m happy to lead the way; too obsessed with getting the answers I want to care about anything else.

I bust through Bolton’s door without bothering to knock. He’s sitting in the comfy chair, reading like I knew he would be.

“Doctor, I’m sorry. She said she’s sick,” Dan apologizes nervously.

Bolton’s beady eyes slide to Dan. “It’s fine,” he assures him, motioning for me to sit on the sofa. “I’ll call when we’re finished,” he informs Dan, laying his book on the small end table beside him.

After we’re alone behind closed doors. “Where did he take Brock?”

Bolton relaxes. “I can’t discuss another patient —”

Scooting to the edge of the cushion. “Tell me now,” I order hatefully, tugging my sleeves over my palms to protect them from my nails.

Bolton’s eyes narrow a fraction while he uncrosses his legs. “His business is private. You’ll need to ask him.”

“He’s mine,” I sneer evilly.

Bolton smiles, relaxing again. “He’s a person. A man, actually. Sometimes men have needs,” he tells me thoughtfully, crossing his legs.

Rage douses my insides with flames as I try to put together what he’s said. Lost in an inferno, begging the wickedness not to turn me to ash.

Bolton tilts his head, watching me with sharp eyes. “You’re getting older. Your body’s changing. It’s okay for girls to have needs —”

Darting to my feet. “Don’t act like a father now. I’m not here to have the talk ,” I hiss, forcing the rage down my throat to keep my voice calm.

Oops, guess the secret’s out. My great uncle Bolton was nice enough to adopt me when my parents threw me away. Gramps was generous enough to make a special trip to his asylum, delivering the papers to his brother personally to sign, which is why Mom needs to stay away. She can’t take back what was done years ago.

Since I’m spilling secrets anyway… Bolton usually lets me have my way, like moving across from B. And other small things, such as letting me have a special key to rooms - I’ve never used. Also, he doesn’t make me follow a stupid schedule like everyone else. Most recently, he’s started testing me by letting me go outside for a few minutes each day.

I think he wants to see if I’m going to run.

“I’m sure you’re curious. I’ll answer any questions you have. You won’t get in trouble,” he assures me patiently.

His fatherly tone makes me cringe like it does every time he uses it. My rage suddenly tucks itself away nice and neat, allowing me to settle a little.

Fighting off the embarrassment I feel heating my cheeks. “I want permission to go to B’s room.”

He ponders my question before standing, lacing his hands behind his back. Slowly, he walks to the window, peering into the darkness. “I have to leave for a little while tonight. If you hurt him —”

“I won’t. Promise,” I counter quickly.

He turns to meet my stare. “The truth will make you angry, princess.”

“I promise,” I repeat.

He sighs heavily. “I’ve been keeping you two apart for years,” he admits tiredly.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Hmmm,” he huffs. “But will he?” he asks aloud before lifting the phone on his desk. “Please escort Tulip to Brock’s room.”