Page 88 of Twisted Prince

“Worried I’ll do it wrong?” I ask dryly, cocking an eyebrow. And before she can think of an appropriate response, I add, “You can double-check my work from the front seat.” I jerk my chin, silently commanding her to get into the car before she topples over.

For a moment, she looks like she’s going to argue—typical Mel—but then she nods and turns to slide into the passenger seat.

When I turn back to Gabby, she’s watching me with those intense green eyes, her solemn expression making my heart swell. Typically, kids freak me out. They’re so small and fragile and easy to upset. But Gabby’s not like most children. She’s so… calm. Thoughtful even though she can’t be more than two just based on her size.

I attempt a reassuring smile as I finish buckling her in and hope the expression doesn’t look too strained. It feels foreign.

Closing the door, I round the front of the vehicle and slip behind the wheel.

“Where are we?” Mel asks, looking around as we pull back out onto the street.

“Milford. I didn’t want to backtrack to New Haven. Figured they’d be more likely to look for us there.”

“Did you…? How did we get here?” she presses.

“Does it matter?” I don’t particularly think she needs to know about the old man. It won’t do anything but disturb her.

“Gabby said you carried us into the woods…” she says, clearly unwilling to let it go.

Sighing, I glance toward Mel. “An old man saw the crash and pulled over to help.”

Mel’s eyes widen, and I seriously contemplate just leaving it at that. It’s not a lie and a lot less ugly than the truth. But I can’t bring myself to give her anything but the truth. I hate dishonesty. I’ve had more than my fair share in a lifetime, and I don’t need to bring it into our already-strained relationship.

“Miko shot him, so after they followed us into the woods, I doubled back and took his car since he wouldn’t be needing it anymore.” My tone flat, I keep my eyes on the road.

And from the deafening silence beside me, I know Mel’s thinking about the man who died at my brother’s hand. The fact never fails to escape me that if I hadn’t gotten out of Boston when I did, that so easily could have been me—another Miko—cold, unapologetic, violent out of convenience. I might be dysfunctional, but at least I’m not that.

The longer the quiet stretches between us, the deeper into my sullen thoughts I go.

Because the truth is, in Mel’s eyes, it probably doesn’t matter that I’ve become the best version of myself I could manage. I’m still not good enough.

I’m useful.

That’s apparent.

And reliably willing to come to her help.

But that’s not what she’s looking for. I honestly don’t know what is. For a few fleeting moments, I thought it might be. Every time she touches me, it feels like I’m what she wants.

Then her words confirm otherwise.

Actually, her words run the gamut from wanting me to never wanting to see me again.

So, the ones I’m left reading into are the small comments, like in the hospital when she found out I said I was her husband. Thank goodness it was only for three days. Three days while she was unconscious. I’m sure that was a bigger relief in her mind since the thought of being married to me is so appalling.

What is wrong with me?

I’m brooding over the fact that Mel doesn’t like the idea of being married to me when she’s given me every indication that she only called me to save her and her daughter’s lives—it has nothing to do with me at all.

Not that I would ever choose not to protect Mel and her daughter. I will always come for her, regardless of the pain it brings me. And now that I know Gabby, I’m confident I would sell my soul to keep her safe as well. But that doesn’t make the truth hurt any less.

I’m nothing more in their lives than a shield to be set aside as soon as the danger passes.

If Vincent Kelly’s actions have taught me anything, it’s that if I want to respect Mel’s wishes, I need to let her go.

“Are you… mad at me?” Mel asks softly, breaking my reverie.

Glancing in her direction, I study the worry in her onyx eyes. “Why would I be mad at you?” I ask.

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