Page 18 of Fallen Prince

She would never let me close enough to touch her again.

I shook my head sharply. I didn’t have a reason to touch her. Alexandra wasn’t going to report me to the authorities. My business with her was done. There was no reason for me to ever see her again. No matter how much I might want to.

CHAPTER 8

Allie

“Are you feeling okay, sweetheart? You look tired.” My father’s warm hazel eyes were soft with concern, but his mouth pressed in a thin, disapproving line.

“I’m fine!” I said, too quickly. I didn’t want him to think I was hungover, but telling him the real reason for the dark circles under my eyes was out of the question. No way could I risk revealing that Max Ferrara had been stalking me, and I’d spent a sleepless night haunted by the terrible, itching sensation that I was still being watched.

Nervously, I plucked at the cloth napkin in my lap to divert my anxious energy. If I shifted in my seat beneath the weight of his scrutiny, I wouldn’t have ahope of resisting his command for me to return to the safety of my childhood home.

Just as I feared, his brow wrinkled, and his chin took on the tilt of paternal seriousness that meant he was about to try to strongarm me into something I didn’t want to do. “Did you go out again last night, Allie?”

I didn’t dare lie. I was a terrible liar, and he’d know immediately if I completely fabricated something. Hedging the truth was my best shot at getting out of this. If he continued this line of questioning, he would demand that I come home where he could keep a protective eye on me.

I’d almost suffocated under the weight of his concern for my entire life. My dad loved me, but I couldn’t go back to that house. He would smother me, and I loved him too much to allow that old resentment to continue festering between us.

“Yes,” I admitted, my cheeks flaming despite my best efforts not to appear guilty. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but Daddy already thought I’d gone into work hungover yesterday. My only option now was to dig myself deeper into that hole and hope for the best. “I went out with Isabel, Davis, and Charlie. But it’s the weekend,” I said quickly. “I worked reallyhard at the office, and I was stressed by the end of the day. I needed to see my friends and relax a little. I’m twenty-one, Daddy,” I reminded him, barely managing to straighten my spine. “I can go out on a Friday night if I want to.”

His heavy sigh weighed on my shoulders like a ton of lead, and I shrank into my seat despite my best efforts. “I keep forgetting that you’re a young woman now,” he admitted. “It’s hard for me to see you struggling like this.”

My heart squeezed. It would almost be easier if he railed at me for being a failure. This fatherly concern made something crumble in my chest.

He rested an elbow on the table and propped his chin on his hand as he leaned toward me, our beautiful pancake brunch forgotten. In that moment, it was just my dad and me; the buzz of other late morning diners faded into the background, and my full focus centered on him as I waited for more of his censure. I barely breathed as the awful anticipation crushed my lungs, iron bands winding tighter around my chest with each passing second.

“I wish your mother were here.” His eyes began to shine, and a lump instantly formed in my throat. “She would know what to say. I know I’ve neverbeen good at some of this parenting stuff. But I want to be here for you, Allie.”

“You are,” I said quickly, forcing the vehement words through my constricted airway. “You’ve always been here for me.”

He swallowed hard and managed a tight nod.

Oh, god. Daddy rarely talked about Mom, and when he did, it shredded both of us. Even though a decade had passed since the awful night when we’d lost her, he still loved her as keenly as ever. Our love for her and our loss cut like a knife, inflicting a permanent wound that would never fully heal.

The fire had claimed everything that night: our home, my mother, my childhood. Nothing had been right since the day she’d died. We’d both failed to save her as our house burned, the consuming flames taking her life along with everything else.

My screams still seemed to burn my throat, and the iron bands around my chest were the phantom weight of my father’s arms, restraining me from running back into the fire to save her.

“I miss her too,” I managed hoarsely, reaching out to clasp my dad’s hand. His fingers closed around mine, and he briefly squeezed his eyes shut. “I love you, Daddy.”

His grip tightened in a pulse of warm comfort. “Ilove you too.” He scrubbed at his red-rimmed eyes with his free hand and drew in a shuddering breath. “Sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to get emotional. Eat your pancakes.” He released my hand and tilted his head at my untouched meal.

Dutifully, I took a bite. The syrupy sweetness was cloying on my ashen tongue, but I managed to force myself to swallow. If I just acted normal, Daddy wouldn’t be so sad. I couldn’t stand to see him hurting. For so many years, he’d done everything he could to protect me, and in turn, I’d protected him by concealing the worst of my suffering. I couldn’t bear to add to his constant pain over the loss of my mother. So, I’d endured the bullying in silence. If he knew about it—if he knew that Gavin was still messing with me—he would definitely drag me back home and keep me close to ensure my safety and happiness.

He’d never been able to understand that I couldn’t be happy when I didn’t have any freedom. Going to college and meeting my friends had been the best thing that’d ever happened to me, and it was a minor miracle that he’d allowed me to move out on my own this summer.

I forced down another bite of my pancakes,proving that I was okay. Even if it was almost painful to choke down the food.

I managed a small smile and changed the subject, my voice an octave too high as I attempted a breezy tone. “Mr. Callahan and I had a good talk yesterday. You gave me great advice.” The muscles around my mouth stretched into a strained grin. “I took responsibility for being late, and he was totally understanding. He actually praised me for my work ethic. It went way better than I ever could’ve hoped.”

Dad returned my smile, the corners of his lips twitching with the effort. “Mike’s a great guy. I’m glad that you’re on good terms. I know how hard you work, sweetheart. I don’t say it enough, but I’m proud of you.”

The lump in my throat swelled, and my eyes burned. Daddy never told me he was proud of me. Well, I could count the times he’d said it on one hand. I modeled my life choices in pursuit of making him proud; my father was a great man, and his pride meant everything to me.

“Thanks, Daddy.” My voice hitched on his name, and I quickly swiped at my eyes.

He let out a watery laugh and raked a hand through his silver-tinged copper hair, leaving the neat style uncharacteristically mussed. “Sorry, I didn’tmean for this brunch to be so emotional. Why don’t you tell me about your internship. Are you working on any good cases?”

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