Chapter 9
“Dude, what’s going on with you today? You haven’t ridden that aggressively in ages.” Ced brought his bike to a stop next to me and flipped up his visor, his blue eyes sizing me up.
I breathe heavily, because the adrenaline from the race is still rushing hot through my veins and I know exactly what he means.
I was practically flying, my knee just inches above the ground as I leaned into the curves.
Today, there was no limit for me. The sounds of the engine and the wind grew louder and more intense as the landscape blurred past me in a whirlwind.
I needed this euphoria and thrill, the tension of not knowing if the next curve would throw me off while fighting against gravity. That absolute focus and sharpened senses make me feel alive and free.
Damn, I needed this.
Since I’ve already taken off my helmet, Ced can see exactly what’s going on because he knows me way too well, but I still brush it off.
“Nothing. I just had too much energy.”
Bullshit.
And that’s exactly what the look in his eyes tells me, but I don’t want to talk about how I’ve been walking around with a constant hard-on for four days.
How the object of my desire has been avoiding me the entire time, practically vanished into thin air.
How I’m obsessed with the thought of touching Amelia again. Obsessed with feeling her.
How she gets under my skin, damn it.
When I saw her at Phil’s grave, so desperate, so full of pain, her knuckles scraped raw, my protective instinct kicked into full gear.
Amelia Perlington is like a trapped animal. She’s suffering, in so many different ways that it physically hurts to watch. Touching her, feeling her, hurt. And at the same time, I’ve never felt anything better. Never felt freer and more understood than there, at that grave.
“When you’re done serving me bullshit, will you finally tell me what’s really going on?
It’s enough that one of my best friends clearly booked a one-way ticket to hell and keeps shutting himself off.
And we have no damn clue why. Another one like that would be too much, even for my cold soul,” he says sarcastically, and I rub my face, annoyed.
“You’re not going to quit, are you?” I ask cautiously, even though I already know the answer.
“Nope.” He takes off his helmet and shakes his head, and I sigh.
“Amelia’s gone. I… well… fuck. Maybe I fouled around with her at my brother’s grave. Maybe I’m a little obsessed with her now and can’t get her out of my head. Maybe she just left me standing there afterwards. And maybe my ego doesn’t handle that very well.”
I’ve never been a coward, and I have to admit her reaction hit me hard. It pissed me off. In many ways, I felt like dirt.
Cedric’s eyebrows raise a bit with each word, and his lips twitch suspiciously.
“Well, well. So the little prince has developed a bit of an obsession with Miss ‘I Am So Prude’—your words, not mine. Who would’ve thought?” he taunts dryly and gets flipped off by me in return.
“What? You’re not seriously pissed because exactly what I predicted happened?
You really hold it against her? You saw her.
You saw how much she’s suffering. You can’t really be mad at her for doing exactly what you do—trying to escape the situation.
” Cedric runs his hands through his hair and looks at me with a serious but curious expression, and I snort briefly.
“No. No, I’m not mad at her, even though it hit me hard at first. I felt like the biggest loser, and she looked so hurt, so confused. But I get it. Only I can’t tell her that, because she’s hiding. I swear, even I’m not as good at disappearing as that woman,” I say, frustrated, and Ced laughs.
“To think I get to witness this moment. Prince Nicolas of Harlington, desperate over a woman. You’re so screwed, man.” He pats me on the shoulder, and I have to hold back from punching him.
Asshole.
“But back to your problem. Maybe you should think about talking to her. Getting to know her. Because obviously, there’s more to her than you ever suspected. Not to mention that she’s stunning and totally knocks your socks off.”
“Very clever, you genius—and what do you think I’ve been trying for the past four days? It’s not like I’m running around for fun looking for her,” I growl resignedly, but we are interrupted by the others rushing over.
“Yo, Prince, that was a crazy race, what was up with you today?”
“You are kind of sick, you know that?”
“Dude, that was wild. I haven’t seen you ride like that in a while.”
And it goes on.
Yeah, I rode like a maniac today, probably pushed past my own limit, but now I feel better.
I accept their congratulations with half an ear, my attention already drifting. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Sarah approaching. Instinctively, I reach for my helmet, just as Cedric’s and my phones buzz at the same time.
Damien is in trouble. Heading to the Royals Club. Hurry up.
Ced shoots me a dark look, and we both pull our helmets down at the same time.
Lizzy only texts us in emergencies, but I didn’t know she had that much contact with Damien that he’d call her instead of us. It makes no sense at all.
“Nic, babe, where are you going? I just got here,” Sarah purrs, standing next to my bike, but I ignore her flirting.
“Yeah, and I’m just leaving. Have a nice evening, Sarah,” I reply, annoyed, and start the engine.
“We’ll meet there,” I shout to Cedric and step on the gas.
From the switchbacks leading out of Python Hills down to Harlington, it’s about twenty miles.
The old mountain road is remote but perfect for our races, since almost no one drives through here.
Even now, the winding road is completely clear, and I push my bike through the night.
My knees again just inches above the asphalt, I chase that overwhelming rush of speed one more time.
Half an hour later, I pull up to the Royals and see the commotion from afar. I stop right in front of the club, where a crowd has gathered. Cedric stops beside me, and as I fully grasp the scene before us, my pulse rises, and hot anger boils up.
Oh, fucking shit, she can’t be serious.
“Oh fuck,” Cedric breathes out, and that sums it up. On the steps leading up to the entrance, two people all too familiar to me are trying to escape the situation. But that’s not all that makes my rage nearly boil over.
Damien is leaning bloodied against Amelia, his nose clearly broken, a cut about five inches long above his left eye, which he can’t even open anymore.
Lia is desperately trying to help him move down, but he’s too unsteady, and some guys are blocking their way.
I shove through the crowd, roughly bumping two idiots aside.
“Hey, asshole, what the—”
My fist lands in his face before he can react.
Don’t piss me off now.
He staggers, tries to complain because of his bleeding lip, but realizes who he messed with and shuts up.
Good.
I’m seriously pissed, because those useless security idiots at the club can’t even push the crowd back. Instead, my little sister stands on the lowest step like a tiny hellion, shouting at the people in front of her.
Damn it.
“Lizzy, move your ass away from there. Now,” I thunder, but the crowd starts shouting wildly, so she barely hears me.
“Ced, get her away from there,” I command harshly while I push through the fucking mob.
“Hey, bitch, found yourself a new fuck-toy again?”
“Now she’s even fucking the sissy.”
“Hey dick-sucker, what’s it like finally fucking a pussy?”
“That gay fucker deserved what he got.”
“You don’t deserve Nicolas. Fuck off, you slut.”
The screaming and insults are vile and only stoke my rage further. This goes way below the belt, even though I have thrown accusations at Amelia myself. This crosses a line. They are seriously messed up and all I want is to rip out every last one of their tongues.
Robins steps up in front of Amelia and Damien and mocks them.
Not for long, you sack face.
“Well, you dirty bitch, not talking so big now, huh? Looks like your new shadow’s already changed his mind.”
No, he hasn’t, you bastard. He’s right behind you. But Robins is so angry, he doesn’t notice me coming closer.
“This time you won’t get away that easy,” he sneers, and Amelia flinches but keeps trying to support Damien.
Aggressively, I shove the two guys blocking my path aside and see out of the corner of my eye that Cedric has already taken my sister inside.
Good, at least one is safe.
“You’re a brainless, discriminatory asshole, Robins, nothing more, nothing less. I don’t need a shadow to deal with you,” Amelia spits at him, strained and red-faced because Damien is making her wobble with his weight.
Oh fuck, is she crazy?
Anger explodes inside me as I leap up the stairs just in time to see Robins shove Damien. He wobbles and falls, knocking Amelia off balance.
“Lia!” Lizzy shouts from above and tries to break free, but Ced holds her firmly.
Damien can’t catch himself and tries to hold on by grabbing Amelia, pulling her down with him.
My heart jolts painfully, and I watch frozen as they both crash hard on the steps.
Fuck.
Goldilocks.
Fear is a vile feeling, but it floods through me fast, and then I snap. I take two quick steps, launch myself at Robins, grab the bastard, and strike him.
Amelia groans in pain, and I see her face twisted in agony as she turns onto her back. It stings badly, and raw hatred makes me see red. My vision narrows to a minimum, and I grit my teeth.
I’m going to kill him. Just kill him.
“I warned you, asshole,” I growl, and my fist crashes into his face again. Over and over, I pummel Robins, wanting to hurt him. Wanting to destroy him.
He touched her again. Beat up Damien. Mocked him.
A whimper catches my attention, and I instantly release the bastard, turn around, and crouch beside Amelia and Damien on the ground.
My best friend groans and rolls onto his side, looking at me with his one unswollen eye.
“I didn’t want this. I didn’t want this,” he keeps repeating, and I give him a quick pat on the shoulder because his desperation twists my stomach.
“The ambulance is on its way. Lizzy and I will ride with Damien. You take care of…” Cedric, who appeared next to my sister, can’t finish because Amelia painfully pushes herself up.
“Lia, are you okay? Should we…” Lizzy rushes to her, but she waves her off.
“No. I’m… I’m fine. I don’t need help.” She squints as a flash blinds her, and I spin around only to see the mocking grin on Albert Richardson’s face.
Fuck, how I despise that guy.
My entire body tightens and my jaw clenches. This asshole stokes the barely cooled anger inside me, filling me with nothing but disgust and hatred as I stare at his ugly face.
“If even one picture or report appears anywhere, I’ll hunt you down and wipe you off the face of the earth, Richardson. And it will be my pleasure.” Without thinking, I jump down the stairs, snatch the camera out of his hand, and smash it on the ground.
“There will be consequences for that, Harlington,” he hisses in my face, but I see the flicker in his eyes. He’s nearly shitting himself.
“Yes. For you. This is private property and belongs to… oh, let me think… me! So, fuck off and forget tonight ever happened,” I issue the threat quietly, then shove him with contempt.
He stumbles back and lands on his ass. The crowd bursts into laughter, but the gleam of hatred in his eyes tells me I’ve just made myself a new enemy. I don’t care.
Dangerously calm, I turn to the crowd and glare at each one of them.
“The same goes for you. One photo, one video anywhere online, and I’ll find you. I’ll expose every one of your dirty little secrets and make sure you lose your fancy, lazy lives. Got it?”
I know these spoiled brats and how they tick. Their status means everything, and they don’t want to lose it. None of them.
I’m the heir to this country’s throne, and they better not forget that.
“Can you please just try for one day to keep your ass out of the press? Just one?” Eric asks dryly, stepping up beside me from nowhere and looking at me, frustrated.
“I’m not to blame. This time. Ask Damien what happened here,” I reply flatly, because I can guess what went down. But my best friend will tell me himself. No more excuses.
“Oh, I guess we have a lot to ask him, and your fiancée too.” He nods behind me, and I follow his gaze.
Fuck, I completely forgot about Amelia.
“You have to tell him, Damien. It can’t go on like this. It’s going to…” she speaks to Damien in a soft but steady voice as he lies on the stretcher, ready to be transported.
“No. For fuck’s sake, stay out of it, Lia.
This has nothing to do with you. Just because you were Phil’s girlfriend doesn’t mean you have the right to stick your nose into everything.
Get your own shit together first and stop acting like a damn mother hen,” he snaps at her aggressively.
Startled by his harsh reaction, she recoils.
What the hell is going on here?
“That’s enough, Dam,” I cut in and step in front of Amelia. She immediately takes a step back, which seriously pisses me off.
“Ced will go with you and then we’re going to talk. I want to know what is going on here.”
Damien’s guilty gaze flickers to Lia, who is standing behind me looking lost and sad, before his eyes shift back to me and that emptiness returns.
My stomach tightens again as I see him lying there, so desperate and broken.
“No, you really don’t,” he murmurs as the paramedics wheel him toward the ambulance. I watch him go, unable to make sense of what has thrown him so far off course. But Amelia can.
Slowly, I turn to face my fiancée, who is hugging herself and staring at me with wide eyes.
“You and me, Goldilocks. We’re going to have a talk.”