Page 43 of The Broken Queen
I still didn’t reply because I didn’t feel like he really needed an answer.
“Tell her you finished the house, Gio. That will be the way to win her over.”
“I’m not taking credit for that house. You worked your ass off to finish it, you tell her,” Gio argued.
I zipped up my last bag and set it toward the end of the bed. “I’m letting her go, Gio. I thought for a second yesterday that I might be able to try, but I can’t. She’s too hurt, and it’s me who keeps doing the hurting. I think she might be in danger; I want you to keep an eye on things and be ready with El Peligro. Adrian was afraid for her, but I think it goes deeper than that. I think Scotty is connected to it.”
My brother’s solemn face remained unfazed as he watched me pack. His silence began to chafe as he just stood there, but as I neared the door, he stood in front of it.
“You’re saying goodbye this time. Go over there, tell her to her face that you’re leaving, and tell her why. We’re done doing this toxic bullshit where we leave and don’t say exactly what’s on our mind,” Gio explained calmly.
I gripped the strap of my bag tightly. “I told her I loved her, Gio. Laid it all out there for her, and she?—”
“Chose us!” he interjected loudly.
I shook my head, stepping back. “No, she chose him.”
“She chose him after we pushed her away. You’re not remembering correctly because you’re hurt. I get it, but you told her on the boat, and after that, she came to us. She wanted us, even after ourtime together on the fourth floor…she wanted us, but you wanted to punish her.”
That’s not how it went. I’d told her I loved her before I realized she had an entire year to get in touch with us. A whole year, during which time my own brother nearly took his own life because of how hurt he was over her silence. We stayed away to protect her, but we had never shut her out. We communicated every day with her, but she refused us.
I had every right to be angry.
I had every right to feel hurt. Presley could have taken the news and realized that we just needed time to fix all of it, everything broken between us, but instead, she chose to marry someone else.
“I’m not moving until you agree that you’ll go tell her.”
“It’s like six in the morning,” I argued, clenching my jaw. This was bullshit.
Gio scoffed with a slight roll of his eye. “You know she’s up.”
I did. Presley was always up the second the sun lit up the sky.
“Fuck. Fine.” I sighed, pushing past my brother. “Carry my shit to the front then.”
I saw Gio grab my bags from the bed while I exited the barn and headed toward the manor.
Fog clung to the trees stretching along the back property line that bordered the manor, and farm, and a cold chill clung to the air as I walked in just a T-shirt and black cargo pants, and black boots. I’d yet to even lace them up before Gio came barging into my room, and I had planned on slipping into a hoodie before I left, but it was better to just get this shit over with. I had talked to Presley yesterday, so there wasn’t much left to say. I’d just explain that I was moving on, starting my life, and letting her live hers. I’d wish her the best and tell her to go see what Gio had done for her on the farm.
I slipped in through the back terrace door, knowing the code to enter the house. I was rehearsing what I was going to say as my heart began to hammer against my chest, but I worked to shove the feeling down. I was doing the right thing.
Expecting to see Presley in her new location over where Carter typically was, I stopped short at the sight of her walking out of her family wing. The bleak morning light came in through the glass windows and terrace doors. Presley looked tired, her eyes were puffy, and her hair was braided back, resting against her oversized T-shirt that cut off at her upper thighs. It was an older T -shirt…my T-shirt, to be specific.
My eyes practically burned a hole into her chest from staring so hard at the lettering. She must have noticed because she finally glanced down, and a blush worked its way into her cheeks, under the freckles across her nose.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, tugging the shirt down to cover more of her legs.
My mouth wouldn’t shape the words I wanted to say. My tongue seemed stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my throat felt like a baseball was stuck inside it. The knot forming in my stomach had me panicked that I was making another bad decision. Like the one where I agreed to make things seem meaningless when they started, and Presley was just sixteen. Or when we decided to remain gone, gathering the support and strength of El Peligro. Then, taking her virginity and leaving moments after… and here I was still punishing her.
Yesterday, she seemed angry at the idea that I was still angry with her, and maybe if?—
“Kingston?” Presley took a step in my direction when there was a playful knock that sounded at the front door, which was just a few feet from where Presley stood. Her head swung over right as her phone made a chiming sound.
She glanced down at her cell and then smiled. “It’s Adrian. He’s here!”
She might as well have shot an arrow at my chest. I took a half step back; unsure I wanted to explain that I was leaving now. They were about to have a reunion of some kind, and I didn’t want to be a part of that. Fuck, I didn’t want to see her kissing him. I turnedaround, about to leave, as Presley swung the door open, and then she released an earth-shattering scream that seemed to rearrange something inside my chest.
I dropped my bag and ran toward the door. Clearing the frame, I found her on her knees on the front porch, hovering over a black bag. Glancing around, I checked for anyone who might be lingering on the property, but all I found were missing guards and an open front gate.
