Page 38 of Prisoner

“It’s all right, you don’t have to.”

Instead, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls my back flush against his chest, dragging me backwards until I land with a splash in front of him.

I laugh. I laugh so much my cheeks hurt.

I haven’t felt like this in such a long time. King is laughing too, his arm still firmly around my chest.

As I calm down, I’m suddenly very aware of his hand inches away from my breast and my breathing picks up. I’m sure he can feel my heart rate spike as he quickly removes his arm.

I turn around and look up at King, who is smiling down at me. He brushes some of my wet hair away from my forehead, setting it right, the gesture way too romantic for real life, especially my life. This kind of thing only happens in the books I read.

King leans in closer and whispers in my ear, “Why are you here, Theo? Where have you been?”

I look into his eyes, my stomach fluttering with a million butterflies I can’t control.

“I…”

“Theodora Harlow!” my father’s voice booms through the peaceful air, and I flinch away from King. He looks up at my father approaching us, running down the marble steps of the mansion. “What do you think you’re doing, kid? Get in the goddamn car!”

He’s angry. My father has never shouted at me like that before.

“You’re Theo Harlow? Kennedy Harlow’s daughter?” King says quietly as we both stand.

I nod timidly and try to gracefully climb out of the fountain, my white sundress now completely soaked through. I look down at myself, my basic nude bra showing itself through my now transparent dress. King looks too and I blush again, but this time not from embarrassment.

“Theo!” my father shouts again, and I jump on the spot.

I turn to run for the door when King grabs my hand.

“I’ll see you again, Theo.” He gives me his famous wink once again, water droplets glistening on his skin, and I smile. If moments like these are what I’ve been missing out on, I don’t ever want to go home again.

“I hope so,” I whisper before running to the car and climbing in, trying to ignore my father’s grunts from the front seat about me soaking the leather. I turn around and look out the back window. King stands there, hands in his pockets, dripping wet, and I smile.

I wake up sometime after,realising I fell asleep in Puck’s arms, and I sigh at the memory that consumed me before looking up into Puck’s blue eyes. He’s already awake and looking down at me.

“Hey.” I snuggle my head closer to his chest, nesting in the crook of his neck.

“T?” he says.

“Mhmm?” I mumble, ready to fall into another nap already.

“There’s someone here to see you.” He sounds cautious and I roll my eyes.

“Dax, you checked on me yesterday. What now?” I groan, turning in Puck’s arms and stiffening instantly when I see King sitting on Puck’s stool right in front of us.

“Theodora.”

I grip on to Puck, the memory from when we were teens resurfacing, same as the one from months ago when he up and left after savagely trying to take me. Puck must sense my unease as he brings his hand to mine, hooking his pinkie finger with mine.He’s got me.

“Piss off,” I spit at King, turning my back on him and staring holes into Puck’s chest.

“Unfortunately, sweetheart, you’re coming with me.”

I turn my head back around and throw daggers at him.

“I’m going fucking nowhere with you!” My defiance riles him up. Good, he’s made me feel like this for months.

Months of waiting for him to come back, to apologise, to just fucking say hello, anything. Months of anger brewing just below the surface of being disrespected and abandoned. I’m not going anywhere with him.

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