Page 9 of Kingdom of Chaos
I take a deep breath. I don’t need any more answers right now. Becks is the priority. But there’s a part of me that clings to the hope that I might find some answers about myself along the way.
Three
The fastest way toget to Grimbrooke is by car. I could take a bus or a train, but there’s no direct route from Everton to Grimbrooke, and I’d rather not waste any more time. The problem is that my parents don’t have a spare car, but I know someone who does.
After a tearful parting with my parents, during which they make me promise at least three more times that I’ll keep them updated whenever I can, I hop on the local bus with my small duffel and backpack and soon find myself standing on Ensley and Becks’ doorstep. I probably should have given Ensley a heads-up that I was coming over, but I want to explain in person why I need to borrow her brother’s car. I owe her at least that much.
I stow the duffel and backpack off to the side. Ensley’s going to ask about them right away, and I might want to work up to the part where I ask for Becks’ truck. I rap my knuckles against the door. I’m barely finished knocking when it swings open.
Mr. Ashford, Becks and Ensley’s dad, stands there with a hopeful look on his face. When he sees that it’s me, he deflates,taking the light out of his green eyes—eyes that are so much like Becks it makes my heart squeeze to look at them.
“Is it Captain Griffin?” I hear from behind him, just before Mrs. Ashford pokes her head around her husband. Like him, a little of the light dims from her eyes when she sees me. “Oh, Locklyn. It’s just you.”
I’m not put off by the hint of disappointment in her voice or the way both their shoulders seem to sag a little as they step back to let me in. They’re worried. They don’t know what’s happened to their son, and they’re wrecked over it. Although they appear to be working with the police to find information about Becks’ whereabouts, I know they’re not going to be able to uncover anything.
“Umm, is Ensley here?” I ask, glancing between them.
Mr. and Mrs. Ashford are usually so pristine and put-together; it’s a little jarring to see them like this. Dark smudges sit beneath their eyes, and their clothes are rumpled. As co-owners of a lucrative beauty company, I’m used to seeing them dressed in designer outfits, with perfect hair and glowing complexions.
Mr. Ashford’s chestnut hair is disheveled, almost like he’s been repeatedly running his fingers through it. With her hair blonde like her children’s, and her flawless honey-toned skin, Mrs. Ashford is beautiful regardless, but it doesn’t even look like she’s wearing any makeup. I honestly can’t remember ever seeing her with a fresh face before. In some ways, it makes her appear even younger, and certainly more vulnerable.
Mr. Ashford is equally dressed down in joggers and a T-shirt, which is also a look I’ve never seen on him before. He works on the development side of B&E Beauty, using a blend of chemistry and magic to imbue products with fae glamour, while Mrs. Ashford is the business mind of the operation, acting as CEO.
Even though they work a lot and Becks and Ensley see less of their parents than I see of mine, I’ve never doubted that they love and care for their children. The evidence of just how much Becks means to them is written all over their faces and in their disheveled appearance.
“Ensley?” Mrs. Ashford repeats, seeming almost confused for a moment before she shakes her head. “Yes, yes. Of course. I’m so sorry. I haven’t slept much.”
Mr. Ashford wraps an arm around his wife’s waist and pulls her close, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s all right, dearest. We’re all a little discombobulated right now.”
My heart aches for them, but seeing them like this only hardens my resolve.
“Ensley’s up in her room, I think,” Mr. Ashford says.
I nod and take a step in that direction, then pause. “I’m so sorry. I really believe Becks is going to be okay,” I say, trying to tell them without actually saying that I’m going to bring their son home.
The small smiles they muster let me know they aren’t convinced.
“Thank you, Locklyn. We know how close you are with both our children. I know you must want him home almost as much as we do.”
That comment sits in my stomach like a rock. It couldn’t be clearer that Becks never told them how things had changed between us. I can see it in their eyes. They have no idea what Becks really means to me. What we mean to each other. And maybe it shouldn’t, but it bothers me.
I tell myself he was probably waiting until things settled down. His parents weren’t exactly against his arranged life-mating, and it’s probably not super common for guys to talk to their parents about their love life anyway. There are plenty of perfectly reasonable explanations for why he didn’t sayanything, so I shouldn’t be surprised that, to them, I’m still just Becks’ good friend.
But I am.
I smile politely and mumble my agreement, all the while wondering if that sick feeling in my stomach isn’t surprise at all, but rather an ugly mix of sadness and disappointment that I’m too emotionally overloaded to fully recognize.
The body will go to extreme measures to protect itself, and surprise is a simple emotion, one easy to brush aside and move on from. But my feelings for Becks, and the complexity of our undefined relationship, are neither simple nor easy.
I head toward Ensley’s room on autopilot, finding myself in front of her door without even remembering the steps to get there. I’m about to knock and ask if I can come in when the rumble of voices from inside makes me pause. I recognize Ensley’s familiar tone right away, then I hear the low timbre of a male voice and my body locks up.
Becks?
My heartbeat stumbles as I scramble for the door handle and shove it open, my gaze darting wildly around the room. Ensley’s sitting on the edge of her bed, her eyes puffy and rimmed with red. And beside her, carefully holding her hand, is . . . not Becks.
Titus?
I blink, stunned to see the tattooed, white-haired fae in her bedroom.Since when are these two close?
