Page 7 of Shattered Reign

I took a quick shower and grabbed the suitcase I was planning to bring with me. I’d started packing the night before because I didn’t want to forget anything, a change from my normal packing the morning of. As soon as I laid the suitcase out on my bed, my adrenaline kicked in.

I was tossing another shirt into my bag when my phone buzzed abruptly on the nightstand.

Who the hell was texting me this early in the morning?

When I picked up my phone, I looked back in confusion. What the hell was Nash doing texting me this time of morning?

Nash: I wanted to talk to you about the night of the party…

For a second, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I wanted to be sympathetic to what was going on, but I also needed to catch a flight to see his sister. And I was pretty sure he didn’t know where she was.

Me: It’s fine. You had a shit ton to deal with. Why are you texting me this early?

I almost admitted where I was going but remembered that Tristan told me she didn’t want her family to know. I wanted to obey her wishes even though I wasn’t the one who’d promised to do so. I also couldn’t help but wonder if Nash knew that something was up and was using this as a way to get me to admit to it.

Nash: Couldn’t sleep.

Not being able to sleep seemed to be a common theme between us. I was about to put my phone back in my pocket when an idea popped into my head. Maybe I could bring some good news to Bianca. But my bringing this up might lead to Nash asking about his sister.

It was something I was willing to risk.

Me: You should probably try to go back to sleep. By the way, did you hear anything about Iris?

Nash: Shit, I wish I had an update for you, but I don’t. Still waiting on Chairman Townsend to get back to me.

I remembered that Nash told me sometime later that Parker Townsend was in charge of all of the Chevalier chapters in New York State, including the collegiate chapters. I assumed that made him a busy man, but how hard would it be to answer this simple question?

Me: That sucks, man.

The moment I pressed send, I went back to doing what I needed to accomplish. As my mind flipped through thousands of thoughts that did nothing but feed into the chaos I was feeling, my only focus was on Bianca. Nash’s apology, while significant, paled in comparison to getting out of my apartment on time.

I couldn’t fight the grin that took over my face as I thought about how I would be in the air in just a few short hours. I couldn’t even begin to predict the expression on her face when she saw me for the first time.

I quickly finished packing, double-checking to make sure that I had everything I needed. I grabbed my wallet and passport from the nightstand and slid it into my pocket as I took one final glance around my room.

Was I missing anything?

When I confirmed once more that I wasn’t, I grabbed my book bag and my suitcase before making my way to the door. I stepped out into the hallway and locked my apartment door behind me.

I took the elevator down to the lobby.

The man working at the front desk turned and gave me a small head nod. “Going on vacation, Mr. Beaumont?”

I guess it could be called that. “I am.”

“Enjoy your trip.”

I gave him a small smile. “I will, thank you.”

Stepping outside, the cold air slapped my skin. The wind whipped around me as I headed toward the sleek black car idling in front of my apartment. It would be a short, easy ride, so I would be at the airport in a few minutes. The driver got out of the car and opened the door for me, and I was surprised by what I found.

My father was sitting there, reading glasses on his face and his phone in his hand. He looked up a split second later.

“Easton,” he said. He removed his reading glasses and tucked them into his coat pocket for safekeeping, his attention now solely on me.

“Dad,” I responded, slightly confused by what was going on. “What are you doing here?”

His lips twitched into a half smile, the closest thing to a full-blown grin I would ever get from him in such early hours. “Can’t a father check in on his son?”

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