Chapter 18
Randi
Randi came awake slowly. Consciousness was thick and resistant that she had to push through layer by layer. Her body was heavy and her thoughts were disjointed at first.
The last thing she remembered was lunch and Josh beside her before she was grabbed violently from behind before everything had gone dark.
When her eyes opened fully, the world didn’t make sense.
The ceiling above her was unfamiliar. The distant sound of waves reached her ears in a soft, rhythmic hush that felt completely at odds with the chaos she instinctively knew had just happened. As she shifted, her head throbbing faintly but her gaze snapped to the figure sitting not far away.
Chance. Memory rushed back all at once.
She pushed herself upright too quickly and her breath caught as dizziness followed. She didn’t stop, though, because confusion had already begun to twist into something more demanding.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice rough but steady enough. Her eyes searched his face with growing intensity. “Who were those men? Why were they after me?”
Chance didn’t answer immediately, and that hesitation ignited something in her.
“No,” she said and shook her head as confusion hardened into frustration.
Her anger camouflaged the fear she refused to show too openly.
“You don’t get to do that, not this time.
Don’t just sit there like this is nothing, Chance.
I was grabbed in broad daylight, Josh could be dead for all I know, and then I wake up here with no idea what’s going on.
You don’t get to be quiet about it since you were obviously there. ”
He exhaled then and took a slow breath, as if whatever he was about to say required him to steady himself first. Something in that alone made her chest tighten because this wasn’t going to be simple.
“It wasn’t random,” he said finally, his voice low but clear, each word deliberate. “They weren’t after you.”
Randi blinked and the statement landed in a way that almost made sense and yet didn’t.
“Then why take me?” she shot back, her brows pulling together. “That’s not exactly a mix-up kind of situation.”
“Because of me,” Chance said and there was no deflection in his expression. He made no attempt to soften the truth. “They took you because you were with me.”
The room seemed to still even more with those words.
“But I wasn’t with you. I was with Josh for lunch.”
This time he avoided her eyes. “They know you’re important to me.”
Randi stared at him and searched for any sign that this was exaggeration but there was none, only a quiet certainty that made her pulse pick up.
“Start talking,” she said, more quietly now but no less firm. “All of it.”
And this time, he did.
He told her about Noriveille, not as a distant place or some abstract concept, but as something real and complicated.
During her time in Stagholt, she had heard about Noriveille but never visited.
She knew that it was a country bound in tradition and power and that Sven had not been fond of the king, who was about expectation and control.
As Chance spoke, the pieces began to fall into place in ways that made her stomach tighten.
He told her about his brother’s execution and his words were so stark and heavy that they seemed to echo in the space between them. Randi felt her breath catch because there was something brutal in his tone that had shaped the man sitting in front of her.
He told her about his mother and about how grief had hollowed her out until there had been nothing left to hold onto and even her heart had given up under the weight of loss.
He told her about the times he would find his mother standing at the palace window weeks after Roderick died, staring out at the snow-covered cliffs.
“She was already thinner and quieter. Grief had hollowed her out, but it wasn’t the only thing. My father’s temper had grown worse after the execution, like he needed something to prove he was still strong.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Chance.”
“I saw the bruises she tried to hide. I heard the shouting through the walls. The next morning the servants found her cold in bed.”
Randi’s heart cried out for the young man that Chance had been at the time. She wanted to comfort him, but she stayed quiet.
“The court physician said she died of illness, but I knew better. Broken hearts could kill, but so could kings.”
And then he told her the part that changed everything. “So now, that throne that the bastard sits on?” he said with his gaze steady on hers. “It’s mine, in a way. Basically it’s always been mine to take.”
The words settled heavily between them. For a moment, Randi could only stare at him while her mind struggled to reconcile the man she knew who joked easily and moved through life like he owed nothing to anyone, with the reality he had just laid out.
“A king,” she said finally. The word felt almost unreal on her tongue. “You’re a king.”
“I could be,” he corrected quietly. “If I go back to take it from my father.”
Her thoughts spun and connections formed rapidly. “Sven.” She sat up straighter despite the lingering dizziness. “That’s why he was here with Jakob, why they wanted to talk to you. That was your business. He wasn’t just some friend checking in, he was trying to bring you back.”
Chance didn’t deny it and that was answer enough.
Randi let out a slow breath and ran a hand through her hair as everything rearranged itself in her mind. The confusion shifted into something more focused, although no less overwhelming.
“My tattoo,” she said after a moment. “That’s why you noticed it and asked me, isn’t it? You recognized it from Stagholt.”
Chance shrugged slightly, almost as if embarrassed that she had figured it out. “I knew what it was.”
“And you were afraid that I was here to spy on you.” Her temper rose a bit but at least that counteracted the haze in her head. “Or worse, you thought maybe I worked for your father. Is that why you hired me?”
“If you remember correctly,” he reminded her softly, “I hadn’t even met you. I never saw you until we opened the water park when you didn’t recognize me.”
“Did you keep me around to find out?”
“Randi, I’m not going to sugarcoat it. It was a concern when I saw your tattoo. The Northlands aren’t exactly the most popular tourist destination.”
“My coming to Tampa had nothing to do with you,” she told him. Her hand unconsciously rubbed the tattoo on her wrist. “I got it to represent my sister. She had a hard life and went through hell, and I got it to remind her she wasn’t alone, that she made it through.”
The tension in his expression eased, though the weight of everything else still lingered. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
“You almost got taken because of me,” Chance said again, more quietly this time, though the guilt in his voice hadn’t lessened. “And it’s not over.”
Randi held his gaze and her heartbeat steadied even as everything else remained uncertain, because fear wasn’t the only thing she felt.
“You came after me,” she said simply. “You didn’t run, you just—”
“I wasn’t going to let them take you,” he cut in with words that were unwavering.
Something in her chest shifted at that, something she didn’t try to overanalyze because it was already there regardless of timing or complication.
“This…king thing… is why you’ve kept pushing me away, isn’t it?” It suddenly all made sense. He’d get hot and then remember he was supposed to be cold.
He moved closer to her and cupped her cheek. “I didn’t want to drag you into that world.”
She grabbed his hand and placed it over her tattoo. “In a way, I already am. I know the rules.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe not all of them, but I get the gist of it.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You could’ve been killed,” she said.
“So could you.”
She still read the conflict in his eyes. “What now, Chance? Where do we go from here?” The words sounded heavier than she had intended, but she couldn’t change that. “Are you going to keep running from me?”
“What about Josh?”
His question was simple, but guilt shot through her. She leaned back against the couch and ran a hand over her face. “It was never about Josh. He was a,” she waved her hand in the air, “a distraction.” Shame washed over her even as she said the words.
“Does he know that?”
“Is he still alive?” she shot back. “Did they kill him when they took me?”
Chance held up his hands. “I don’t know. They hit him once and he didn’t move off the sidewalk. I was more concerned about you.” He paused. “I seriously doubt that they killed him with one hit, so you have nothing to worry about.”
“I’m not worried about Josh. Well, I am, and I hope that he’s okay, but there was no spark. No rapid heartbeat. No daydreams. Not like with…” She stopped. Now may not be the time to say too much.
“Not like with…me?”
Her heart burst open but instead of answering, she leaned in and placed a butterfly kiss on his lips.