Page 45 of Tarnished Queen

“Yeah. Until then,” I say. “God, that was the worst.”

“That’s when I knew how much you liked him,” Elise tells me. “When the two of you were dancing, all dressed up and smiling at each other… that’s when I knew something more was going on. And then we left so quickly and we went home and you got sick. It all fell apart.”

I lean my head back against the wall and sigh. “I shouldn’t have fallen apart like that. But I was heartbroken. I was falling for him, and I found out he’d kept an entire fiancée a secret and, at the time, he was still going to marry her. I just… I couldn’t deal.”

“Makes sense. That’s harsh.”

“Yeah, but it’s no excuse. I’m supposed to be a strong foundation for you. That’s the reason I brought you to live with me. I wanted to be better than Mom.”

“You are!” Elise grabs my arm and draws it close to her, pressing her cheek to my bicep. “Belle, you are one thousand percent better than Mom.”

“But at least Mom never got involved with any serious criminals. They were all small-time drug dealers and generic assholes. She has me beat there.”

“Mom also never gave a shit about me. You’ve got her beat there.”

I stroke her hair away from her face. “That’s not true. Mom did care. She does. She loved you.”

“Don’t lie to me, Belle,” she snaps suddenly. “You know that’s not true.”

I wish she was wrong. I wish I could assure her with my whole chest that our mother loves and cares about us.

But I really don’t know if that’s the case.

And at this point, I don’t care anymore.

“The fact that you’re lying to me about it is proof that you care more than Mom ever did,” she says. “And that’s why I’d rather be in this shitstorm with you than living with her.”

“Hey. Language,” I scold her playfully.

She rolls her eyes, but I’m starting to see the affection behind the gesture. The comfortability. She trusts me, whether I’ve earned it or not.

“I’m just saying,” she continues. “I know I don’t have a lot of options. It’s not like I have people beating down the door to come and take care of me. But still… even if I did, I’d choose you, B. And if you love Nikolai, then I can make that work. But only if he’s nice to you.”

My chin wobbles as I do my best to hold back the flood of tears threatening to pour out. But I’m only human, and it was a losing battle from the start. Silent tears slip down my cheeks and Elise snorts again.

“You’re such a cupcake.”

“Not all of us can be as tough as you.”

She shrugs. “We’re both tough. We didn’t get a choice. Mom was a mess. We both lost our dads. It was either get tough or give up.”

There it is—the bitter tang of that old deception. But this one is mild from constant exposure. I’ve grown used to it. Because this way is better than the sick feeling I’d have watching Elise struggle with the truth. Watching her realize again and again that her dad is out there, living freely, and has chosen to have nothing to do with her. I’d rather her think he didn’t have a choice than know he chose himself over her. One selfish parent is better than two.

It’s better for her to believe he’s dead.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I say. “But we have each other.”

She wrinkles her nose but can’t fight her smile. “Ew. Corny.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.” I pull her in for another hug and press a kiss to her damp head. She smells like strawberries. “You’re stuck with me.”

* * *

When I get back to my room, Nikolai is lounging on my bed.

His legs are stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. His shirt is rucked up slightly, revealing a slim stripe of tan skin across his abdomen. He is sex incarnate. Sin wrapped in well-fitted jeans and a bad boy persona.

If I wasn’t so pissed at him, I’d jump his bones.

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