Chapter 26
Wyatt
I stared at my father’s mansion from the guard’s box a hundred yards away. Today, the house looked like it belonged in a horror movie. According to the weather man on my hotel television, there was no end in sight for the torrential downpour I’d woken up to.
It matched my mood, really. I didn’t enjoy coming to see my father. I typically avoided it at all costs.
Rafe had dropped me off after dinner last night, but I hadn’t wanted to come see him until it was absolutely necessary. I needed the hours overnight to myself to mentally prepare for this visit. The hotel I’d stayed in had been nice, but it wasn’t Skye’s apartment.
Not that I’d been able to actually stay in Skye’s apartment more than once. I just preferred being in the islands where I was close to her. Everywhere else seemed dull and lifeless by comparison.
“You’re all set, Mr. Craig.” The security guard said, giving me a nod as he put down the landline phone.
I nodded back, swallowing thickly and mentally preparing to not only see my father, but get absolutely soaked beforehand.
Might as well give him a lengthier list of things to berate me over.
Just as I pushed open the door to the guard’s box, a shrill voice rang out, cutting through the pounding rain.
“WYATT!?”
I groaned.
There, in the doorway, was my younger sister Willow.
She wore a bubblegum pink, velvet tracksuit, no doubt with rhinestones across the butt. Willow was the definition of a girly-girl, just like her mother.
Willow waved her hands wildly at me, like I wouldn’t see the bright pink dot that was her from miles away.
I waved, then stepped out into the rain. I looked around when no cold rain pelted me, and then I glanced up to see Willow waving again, and it hit me.
Willow was using her affinity to keep the water off of me. While cold, I walked across the massive lawn without getting a single drop on my coat.
I hummed to myself as I made my way up the dozen stone steps leading to the front door. Willow’s control over her affinity had grown considerably since the last time I’d seen her use it.
Willow threw her arms around me before I’d made it two steps onto the landing.
“Hi!” She pulled back to beam at me.
She was now holding the rain off of the both of us, and I wanted to scratch my head in confusion. When had I seen Willow use her affinity last? It really had been a while. She could barely conjure up a glass of water, last I could recall.
“Hi,” I replied a little stiffly.
“Come in!” She skipped away in a cloud of floral perfume. I followed after her, going still as soon as I made it inside.
The chilly but humid air from outside followed me in, and with a near-slam of the door behind me, the roaring sound of the pouring rain cut off abruptly, leaving the foyer stiflingly silent. Even Willow’s fuzzy slippers seemed to echo on the marble tiles.
But that wasn’t what gave me such harsh pause.
Lauren, Willow’s mother, was halfway up the stairs, and she’d stopped midway to gaze at me.
Her knuckles were ghost white and shaking even as they held the banister in a death grip.
Her newest nurse, an older white woman with partially grown out colored hair, stood beside her, bearing most of her weight.
“Hi, Wyatt.” Lauren slurred out, giving me a crooked smile. “Good to s-see you.”
I swallowed hard again. “Good morning, Lauren. Thank you for having me.”
“Of course. You’re Willow’s b-b…” I practically held my breath while her jaw worked, then breathed out with relief when she continued, “Brother. Always w-welcome.”
I gave her a tight smile in reply as Willow reappeared in the hallway leading to her wing.
“Mom!” Willow cried with a grin. “Quit hogging him! I have to show him my new room.”
Lauren let out a strangled sound that seemed like it was meant to be a laugh, then gave us another shaky smile before her nurse began to urge her the rest of the way up the stairs.
We both stared in their direction for several seconds even after they’d gone, and it was nearly a minute later when we finally heard the echo of a door close at the end of the hall.
“Thank God,” Willow muttered to me. “Dad would be pissed if he saw her out in view of the front door.”
“Why isn’t she rooming downstairs?” I breathed in confusion. She shouldn’t have been anywhere near stairs, nurse or not.
Willow only snorted, which was answer enough.
I clenched my jaw, silently following my sister down the hall toward her wing of the house.
I chewed my lip as I watched the décor slowly turn pinker and shinier as we drew closer to Willow’s rooms. I had no idea what to say to her.
The last time I’d seen her, Skye was sending me away from her dorm, and Willow had begged me not to go.
Now, she acted like none of that had happened.
No one gave me whiplash quite like my sister.
“How is she?” I asked, deciding that her mother’s condition was a safe topic.
Willow hummed noncommittally. “Well, you saw her legs aren’t quite working. That’s new.”
“I saw,” I confirmed, almost in a whisper. “Is she still attending physical therapy?”
“That was the physical therapist,” Willow replied, referencing the woman I’d thought was a nurse. “She comes here directly. Traveling is getting harder, so I found one who comes in-home.”
“Willow,” I stopped her with a gentle touch to the shoulder. She flinched almost imperceptibly, and I hated that. My father’s personality was starting to wear on her. “Listen. You know the Palace has Healers. Rafe and I saw Holmes, the one who was working on the King–”
“The one who killed the King, you mean?” Willow sneered as she shoved my hand off her shoulder. “I don’t want her anywhere near my mom.”
I breathed out slowly, trying to remain calm. “Then another Healer,” I said. “Rafe can have someone here by the end of the day.”
Willow shook her head.
“Willow, come on. Why won’t you let him help?” I asked desperately.
“I’m not the one keeping things stagnant around here, Wyatt,” she hissed. “You know as well as I do that he’d never allow that.”
“Then we’ll take her–”
Willow lunged at me suddenly, slapping her hands over my mouth and knocking me into the wall with a thud. I stared at her, paralyzed in shock, but she only tilted her head as if she were listening for something.
What the fuck was going on in this house?
“Don’t ever,” Willow whispered so quietly it was barely audible, “ever suggest that in this house again.”
She spun around then, whipping me with her hair as she strode away from me.
I pulled out my phone, seeing a message from Rafe already waiting.
Rafe
Say the word, and I’ll come get you
Me
It’s worse than I thought
I’d barely looked away from the screen when he replied.
Rafe
Say the word, Wyatt
I shook my head even though he wouldn’t see. My lack of response was enough, and Rafe knew this argument exhausted me.
I felt like a zombie as Willow chattered away. I followed her on autopilot, humming at her new paint –I didn’t know what the old paint had been– then nodding at her new flooring. I had no idea what the old flooring had been, either.
I had no idea what was going on inside this house anymore.
But I knew I needed to get Willow and Lauren out of here.
“Master Wyatt.” One of my father’s butlers stood in Willow’s doorway after a quick, polite knock. “Your father will see you now.”
“Make sure to mention to my father you entered my room without a response again, Jeeves.” Willow snarked from where she sat on the couch.
The butler, whose name was most certainly not Jeeves, sneered at her when he was sure she wouldn’t see, then gave me a look as if to say women, am I right?
I only stared at him. It was all I could do not to punch him right in his hooked nose, which had clearly been punched a few times before.
He dropped his gaze, then scuttled away quickly. I shared a look with Willow before I followed the butler out into the main hall.
My father had no reason to send someone to fetch me from Willow’s wing.
This home was large, but not so much so that a quick walk would be cumbersome.
His public office, the one that received guests, was on the lower level toward the back of the home on purpose because he wanted his business rivals and associates getting a good look at the house as they walked through.
His personal office was still upstairs, the direction Lauren had headed.
I sighed as I started up the stairs, following Jeeves, who hadn’t bothered to give me his real name.
My father knew I’d been here for over an hour, and his allowing me to spend time with Willow wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart.
We arrived at the office, and Jeeves bowed low before knocking on the heavy wooden door, waiting on a reply before pushing inside.
“So, you do know how to wait for a response,” I commented as I strode inside the office.
My father furrowed his brow.
“Jeeves didn’t wait for Willow to respond before he burst inside her room,” I explained.
My father’s green eyes darkened as he glared at the butler, who looked at me almost in betrayal. I took a seat in one of the plush, blue armchairs across from my father’s large, oak desk.
“I’ll deal with you later,” his deep voice was loud in the silence that’d followed my explanation. Jeeves scrambled out of the office, and I leaned back as much as my nervous system would allow. I needed to appear at least a little comfortable to keep him from exploiting my anxiety.
“Wyatt,” my father said. He shifted, putting his hands into his pockets as he leaned back against the oak buffet table behind his desk. He stood right in front of –and I’m not joking– a painted portrait of himself.
It was a nice portrait, all things considered. He looked just as ruthless and dickish as he pretended not to be.
“How are you, son?” he asked when I didn’t reply.
I waved one of my hands back and forth in a so-so gesture.
He nodded, looking me over. His gaze remained stoic, though, so he hadn’t found me lacking.