Royal Havoc

36. A Bit Of Tongue

thirty-six

A Bit Of Tongue

Tulip: 2014 Age: 17

M y legs hurt as bad as my shoulders for completely different reasons. Doc ordered the restraints to be buckled tight, forcing my shoulders back. I’ve paced around the room since he threw me in here two days ago, wearing marks on the padded floor.

I squint at the bright white squares and lean my shoulder against the padded wall by the door. I hate this room. I’d rather be strapped to the filthy chair for days.

My toes burn as I raise myself up to peek out the tiny window on the door. “Let me out!” I scream, banging my head against the metal.

Immediately, I feel the new layer of blood seep from the cut above my brow, heating my cheek. Quickly, I rub my face on one of the white squares, trying to move my crusted hair from my eye. It doesn’t work. Instead, all I’ve done is paint the square red.

Submitting to the fatigue, I turn, sliding my back down the door until I land on my butt. Even swallowing hurts my raw throat from all the screaming.

The doc thinks locking me in this room will teach me a lesson. Unfortunately for him, I’m over his stupid lessons about patience and greed. Revenge is too satisfying to resist. B told me, “methodically piecing together a moment is a gift of brilliance.” I agreed. Especially when it means you get to watch the person you hate crying at your feet while they bleed.

The door is ripped open, causing me to fall backward, my upper body landing in the marble hallway. Dan helps me to my feet, making sure I’m steady before escorting me down the hall.

The doc’s waiting in the exam room when we enter. “Leave the jacket on and help her sit on the bed,” he orders Dan without looking at us, too busy gathering instruments on a tray.

Once we’re alone, he rolls the tray beside the bed where I’m sitting to examine my brow. “Where is he?” I rasp angrily.

“The question should be, where’s Sasha?” he corrects distractedly.

I watch while he threads a needle. “Don’t ever say her name to me again. You betrayed me,” I sneer, grimacing at his lying face.

“You might be my daughter. But there are other people here, too.”

I swallow hard to keep myself from arguing. “A piece of paper doesn’t make you a father. It makes you a money-hungry monster. You’re just like them . And the other person’s a slut,” I seethe, basking in the anger fueling my hate.

“By them, I assume you’re speaking about my brother and his daughter. If I were like them , I’d have left you in the pit of the Row to rot, like they intended.” He shrugs, continuing to stitch my brow. “However, I accepted you. I’m trying to teach you —”

“I’m done with your lessons. I want out of here. I want to be free,” I hiss.

He pauses, looking at me for the first time. “You belong here with me. The Row’s your home,” he states calmly before returning to work on my face.

“I want to see B.”

He chuckles, “But does he want to see you?” He finishes with the stitches and presses a bandage over them. “Don’t get this wet when you shower. This is the last time I’ll tolerate one of your childish tantrums. If you act out like this again, I’m locking you away for good.”

He disappears through the door before I can argue, and Dan returns to remove the awful straight jacket.

“B,” I gasp excitedly when I see him. Dan picks up his step to keep up with me as I rush towards our table.

Brock stands, studying me curiously. We both take our seats, lacing our hands on our sides of the table, silently waiting for Dan to leave.

“What the hell were you thinking?” B scolds me as soon as we’re alone. “Where did they take you? Who did that to your head?”

He’s firing words at me that I should probably be listening to instead of swooning over his addictive face. He’s become my drug of choice, and I’ll never get enough. All I can hope is not to overdose.

“Tulip?” he says, full of worry.

Slowly, I slide my hand towards his, grazing my pinky over his skin. The hairs on my arms stand on end, shocking my weakened system to life.

“I missed you,” I purr softly.

All the anger he harbors rushes away at the sound of those words. “You can’t scare me like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Who hurt you?” he rasps, examining the bandage with worried eyes. His fingers twitch, wanting to inspect it properly.

“Me,” I answer honestly.

“How? Where were you?”

My teeth graze my bottom lip, trying to hide my smile. Absolutely loving the way he makes me feel. No one has ever worried about me the way he does or cared enough to protect me. I heard him beating on his door, trying to get to me, when they dragged me from my room.

“The tank. I wanted out. I needed to see you,” I explain, noticing the scabs on his healing knuckles.

His questioning eyes roam over my face. “Why did you hurt Sasha? It’s been months since I’ve seen her. I thought she left,” he admits, turning to peer out the window.

“No, silly, the doc hid her from me after I caught you coming back from her room that night.”

His eyes grow wide. “That’s why she went missing?”

I bite my bottom lip. “Yes. He knew I’d want revenge.”

“What did you do?”

Unable to hold in the girly giggle his shocked face induces. “Cut out her tongue,” I answer, void of emotion.

For a second, I fear his eyeballs might actually fall from their sockets. “It was months ago. Why would you risk us being together? I’ve told you I love you,” he rants.

Blinking across the table at him. “She’s lucky I didn’t slice her jugular.” Leaning forward a little. “I will kill anyone that tries to take you from me. Promise.”

His head swivels, searching our surroundings, worried someone might have heard me. “How many times do I have to tell you? You can’t say shit like that.”

“It’s the truth. And I’m supposed to tell the truth.”

He shakes his head. “Stop listening to Bolton’s bullshit. Keep your mouth shut and behave. I’m going to get us out of this shit hole.”

“I —”

He stands. “Tulip, I want you to meet someone.” Turning, I notice Dan escorting a guy towards us. “Ollie,” Brock smiles.

“Brock,” the guy says, smiling back.

“Ollie, this is Tulip. Tulip, this is my brother Ollie, short for Oliver,” he proudly introduces us.

He sits beside B, and I immediately notice the resemblance, even though his sibling has darker hair.

“B’s told me a lot about you.”

Plopping my chin on my fist. “Really? I’ve not heard a thing about you. Didn’t even know you existed.”

Ollie laughs, side-eyeing B. “We were split up when we were young. It took me a while to find him after I graduated.”

“You look a little old.”

“He’s a lawyer. He means graduated college,” B explains simply to me.

“Hmmm,” I hum, not impressed in the least.

“Tulip?” a female voice gasps, rushing into the visiting room, causing a scene. “Where is she? I want to see —” A set of eyes matching mine land on me, instantly turning sad. “Baby, what happened?”

“Leave,” I groan, instant anger ruining my mood.

She stops beside me, glancing around the table. “I’m her mother. Who are you?”

Ollie raises a brow. “His brother.”

“Oh,” she huffs, sliding into the chair beside me. “Opal,” she says, introducing herself.

“I told you I don’t want you here.” Spinning my head, looking at Ollie. “She’s nobody. She gave me away years ago. Forget she exists. I do.” I shrug, ignoring her heated stare.

“Is this the lawyer you were telling me about?” she asks Brock, shocking the piss out of me.

“What the hell? You’ve been talking to her behind my back?” I shriek, jolting from my chair.

“Tulip —”

“Fuck you,” I hiss, storming towards Dan, who's trying to figure out the commotion. “Take me to my room,” I order, charging past him.

I’d rather sit in silence than ever listen to a word she has to say.