Page 6 of The Royal Flame
Finn lifts a shoulder. “I know he’s our father, but he’s not a good man. And he could gain a lot from mom being gone, like no longer having to pay her alimony. Plus, he was pissed off about her getting the beach house and resort home in the divorce…” He wavers. “Also, Dad has some side business that aren’t exactly legal and if Mom knows about those, she could be seen as a liability.”
“Wait… What side business?” I ask. “And how do I not know about this?”
Finn shrugs as the light turns green, and the tires squeal a little as he drives forward. “Because he made you the family heir, which left me with having to help him with his businesses.”
“I… Why don’t I know about any of this?”
“Because you have your own issues, like marrying a woman you don’t love.”
Right.
I scrub my hand over my mouth as silence encases us. My mind is centered on my mother and how she could have taken off on her own. But would she really go to the extreme of staging her disappearance? The truth is that, yeah, she very well could have.
Finn and I barely speak for the rest of the drive. When we park in the carport, however, Finn turns to me, all serious and shit, which is so bizarrely strange for him.
“I think you need to date Maddy,” he says in a serious tone. When I open my mouth to inform him of the risks of that, he holds his hand up. “I know what Mom said in the text, but at the same time, we don’t even know what’s actually going on with Mom. Plus, there’s the society to worry about. And… you like Maddy. That means something.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I know, but… I don’t want to put her in danger.”
“Talk to Maddy about it,” he stresses as he shoves open the door. “It’s just as much of her decision as it is yours.”
He’s right.
But I know she won’t want to continue dating me if it means risking her life. Why would she? We barely know each other. And yet, even despite that, the idea of her dating my brother—even fake dating—causes this pain to pierce the center of my heart like the goddamn bullet that grazed my side.
After I get out of the car, I text Maddy to see if she’s arrived. She won’t be able to enter the parking garage without me letting her.
Me: Have you gotten here yet?”
Maddy: Yeah, the driver just pulled up to the gate. How do I get in?
Me: I’ll head down to let you in. Hold on.
I turn in the opposite direction I was walking in.
“Where are you going?” Finn calls out, his voice echoing across the air.
“To let Maddy in,” I reply, stuffing my phone into my pocket. “She’s at the gate.”
“Okay… Just be careful.” Worry laces his tone.
I give him a thumbs up from over my shoulder as I stop in front of the elevator that leads down to the entrance gates. I push the button, the doors glide open, and I step inside. Once I’ve pushed the main floor button, the elevator begins its descent. I lean against the metal wall, my pulse quickening the lower the numbers of the floors get. I’m anxious to see Maddy, more than I was even aware of. I need to make sure she’s okay, see it for myself. I want to know what happened to her. And I want to talk to her about what’s been going on with me. I haven’t had that in my life before, a safe place to lose my shit. But Maddy is starting to feel like that.
When the elevator arrives at the main floor, the doors open, and I push away from the wall to exit. Then, I walk down the side path that leads to where the entrance is. The car Maddy got into the last time I saw her is parked in front of the barriers. I hurry toward it, my strides long and quick, the stitches on my side barely noticeable.
I quicken my pace even more when the passenger door opens and Maddy climbs.
“I’d say thanks for the ride,” she tells the driver as she grips the door. “But since you took me against my will, go screw yourself.” She flips the driver the middle finger and then slams the door.
When she turns toward me, relief washes over me. She looks unscathed, although a bit tired. Her long, brown hair flows across her shoulders in waves, and her expression conveys her emotional state, which mirrors mine—pure relief.
“Hey,” she says as she hurries toward me. “That guy is super annoying?—”
I kiss her. Like full on devour her with my lips as my arms loop around her waist, and I pull her so tightly against me, I can feel her heart slamming across my chest.
So much for breaking off our fake dating agreement.
But the sight of her caused so many emotions to flow through me that I can’t grasp onto anything else. To add to the problematic situation, she kisses me back with equal intensity. Her hands travel to the hem of my shirt, and she grasps the fabric, her fingers grazing my skin. My muscles are taunt, and a drop of pain emits from the stitches. But it barely registers in my brain as I bite her bottom lip. She whimpers as one of her hands trails up my chest, and then she hooks her arm around the back of my neck. Her fingers comb through the hair on the nape of my neck as we kiss and kiss and kiss. I’m not sure we would’ve stopped if someone hadn't honked their car horn.
