Page 101 of Beautiful Ascension

“They still won’t let us in to see her,” I shout, cutting my uncle’s greeting short.

“Of course, they’re not. They’ve been given specific orders to not let any of you in.”

What the actual fuck? If he weren’t my uncle and one of the only good father figures outside of Ariah’s, I’d tell him to where he could fuck off.

The Council is more of a hindrance than a support system. “Why the hell would the Council sanction something so damn asinine?” I question.

Clearing his throat, he declares, “Because she needs and has earned this time. Ariah’s been made to suffer at the hands of Matthew Baker, Samantha Davenport, and all of their cronies.” Sighing, my uncle continues, “I thought you all agreed to give her time—that you all understood why it is necessary?” His response sounds more like a question than a statement.

Logically, I understand his reasoning, but logic and reason aren’t in the driver’s seat. Instead, I’m close to kicking in the door and saying fuck the alarm system and the privacy of other patients when I see a person dressed in what appears to be surgical gear—blue scrubs with the matching head covering and mask. The only things visible are their hands and eyes.

“Bash! Are you listen—” I hang up when they scan their badge. Perfect timing.

Shadowing their steps, I keep my head down, following close enough behind to sneak in but not enough to alert the person to my existence. I’m about to pass through the door when a hard shoulder slams into me. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Fucking Reign! This asshole has been, quite literally, raining on our parade since he was put on Ariah’s security detail—a move we are happy with a majority of the time. Reign protects her like a brother, giving us shit whenever we fuck up. Now, I’m reevaluating our initial support. He’s made the last few months harder than necessary. Especially since I know he has some knowledge of the situation. My fists clench at my side, preventing me from swinging. He’s only doing his job. I try to remind myself before responding. “I need to speak with her. She needs to know so many things—mainly that we never truly abandoned her.”

He pushes at my chest, “I honestly don’t give a fuck, Prince Charming. You and your merry band of idiots need to back the hell off. She doesn’t need any of your shit right now.”

Glaring at him, I try to breathe away my fury. “You don’t think having Ariah think Owen was fucking Samantha while she carved the “A” off his chest is adding to her stress?” I argue.

“I know it is,” he snaps, pushing me again, and I know the last tether of my control is about to break. “Add that to the laundry list of things you’ve all done, plus the endless number of responsibilities she’s shouldering. If something doesn’t give, she’ll go into early labor. Is that what you selfish pricks want?” When he steps forward to push me this time, I let him—he’s right. “Everything that’s transpired has been at your pace. All the smoke and mirrors—all of the secrets—they’ve been on your terms.”

Running my hands through my hair, I sigh, “It’s not like?—”

“Just shut the fuck up,” Reign raises his hand to silence me. “Do I know foul things were in play and that Samantha, the chick you’d all run through a wood chipper alive, was part of it? Of course, I do—we all do. Shit, if Ariah weren’t so hurt, she’d see through all the bullshit. I honestly believe she knows, but Ariah’s holding her cards close to her chest just in case.”

We promised more time, and we barely gave her two days. Ariah’s not Samantha—a leech without conscience or regard for anyone but herself, and she’s no Vivian—a delusional inconsiderate bitch.

“You’re getting it now. For a doctoral student, you’re not too bright. I guess it’s true—book smarts don’t equate to street smarts.”

Narrowing my eyes, I retort, “It’s interesting you’re preaching so hard. I won’t bring up memories that hurt. You and your friends have your own crosses to bear. Just know it’s a bit hypocritical to tell us to stay away when you all did the exact opposite. I know what brought you all to Lincoln-Wood. Maybe you’re talking to the man in the mirror.”

Reign opens his mouth, but it’s my turn to hold up my hand. “Save it. I understand what it means to feel helpless in a love you’ve only just discovered. Maybe the three of you should extend that grace to us.” Done with him, I take the stairs, needing to feel the breeze on my face. Inhaling the fall air, I open my car door and check my phone—three missed calls from my uncle and a text message in our group chat. Deciding to call my uncle later, I start my car and bring up my messages.

“For fuck’s sake,” I shout to no one before I break out into laughter.

Lev: Owen’s in.

Wyatt: Operation get our Queen back has commenced.

Operation, get our Queen back indeed.

51

ARIAH

“Anurse will be in shortly to help you get dressed while we wait for Dr. Jaffri. Then, we should be out of here in the next hour,” Elias says as he holds the door handle.

Nodding, I wait for the door to snick closed before I rest my head on the pillow. The sound of whatever show is playing on the television seems lightyears away. There is too much to process, but I can’t calm my mind enough here. I need my discharge instructions so I can go home and think.

The engagement party was a fucking disaster from start to finish, and no one would tell me everything that transpired. Not even Shay.

Sighing, I rest my hand on my belly before turning to see my babies’ strong heartbeats. I put them in jeopardy, all for some archaic ass rules. I should’ve fought harder to be excused or ignored the summons altogether. “I won’t put you in danger again,” I whisper, smiling when I feel a fluttering of movement against my palm.

I peer at the time, wondering when this nurse will arrive. I’m ready to return to my house on campus, but because I’m on bedrest until we return from fall break, everyone disagreed and suggested I return to the Bradford Estate in Edgewood. Rolling my eyes, I remember the serious look on everyone’s faces when I made the request.

“You’re on fall break, Ry. No one will even be on campus for the next two weeks,” my father explains, hoping I understand.

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