As if you didn’t already pack, a harsh voice whispered.
“I am and I will. I’ll even renegotiate the terms in your favor.”
That gave me pause. “I’m listening.”
I hated how aware I was of our silent audience. Ambrose stood there, hands back in his pockets, listening to every word without even trying to pretend he wasn’t.
“I’ll stay and look after her as long as I can,” James said. “All I’m asking is that you give it a chance. One school year, two semesters. Stay, and consider everything she might need fully taken care of.”
He’s buying your cooperation. There was no denying that. But...
When would a chance like this come around again?
“There’s one other thing,” he said. “Give us a moment, Ambrose.”
“Whatever,” said public enemy number one. “I see where this is going.”
He strolled casually towards the elevator, and I wasn’t immune to watching the easy swagger of his walk.
Or how good those expensive jeans made his butt look.
“You’ve got five minutes,” he tossed over his shoulder without turning. “After that, I’m gone.”
“He’s not joking.” James waved a hand. “Come with me.”
He set off towards Mom’s room and I followed because what else was I supposed to do? Stand here in limbo all day while the nurses wiped drool from their mouths?
James stopped just before we reached her and faced me. He reached into his pocket and handed me a black credit card.
“Use this for whatever you need.”
I reached for it and he pulled back. My head tilted.
“I mean it,” he said. “Don’t take it and then refuse to use it to make a point.”
Am I really so transparent?
“Fine,” I huffed, snatching the card. “What else?”
“He’s going to give you a ride. After that, stay far, far away from Ambrose LaCroix and the rest of the Tarots.”
“Tarots?” I frowned.
He glanced at his watch. “You’ll figure it out, just keep your distance. That boy is a terror on the world—runs in the family. You don’t want anything to do with him.”
Sure, Ambrose was hot, rude, and kind of scary. But a terror? That seemed like a stretch.
“There’s one more thing,” James said. He hefted out a huge sigh and reached into the pocket of his suit jacket, producing a small envelope.
I recognized Mom’s handwriting immediately when he passed it to me. My name was scrawled across the top. Deft fingers were already reaching to tear it open when bigger hands eclipsed mine, stopping me.
“Don’t,” he said.
“When did she write this?” He didn’t answer. “When!?”
Nothing.
I moved to go around him and he blocked me. “Get out of the way! If she’s up, I have to see her before I leave.”
I darted to the other side before being waylaid again.
Then he took the fight out of me with six words.
“She doesn’t want to see you.”
My heart stopped beating, and I could no longer blame my stinging eyes on my lack of sleep. “What?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked away. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Emily. Go. Read it later. I’ll be in touch once you’re settled. Everything is going to work out.”
Abandoned by both parents. I could’ve gone without crossing that off my bingo sheet.
My eyes continued to sting, and I walked away, refusing to give him the benefit of knowing he’d hurt me. Again. The story of my fucking life.
When would I learn?
The rest was nothing more than a blur.
I went down the elevator and stomped outside without ever blinking, the letter clutched between my fingers like a lifeline.
It taunted me, calling me a coward with each step I took without opening it. I couldn’t say it was wrong, either.
The scar tissue I’d built around my heart like a bomb shelter wasn’t strong enough to withstand a second blast. So, I left the envelope sealed.
Ambrose said nothing when I stepped through the sliding doors and found him parked in the emergency room drop-off.
I paused long enough to glare at him and his pearl white Porsche. He only slid behind the wheel, rolled the window down, and lifted that imperial brow.
Here sat a portal to the great unknown and a path to my dreams. The ferryman was an asshole with bloody knuckles. It shouldn’t have been a better option than walking back in the hospital and confronting both my parents...but it was.
I got in the car.
God forgive me for accepting the first of many deals I’d have to make with the devil.
6
Emily
To absolutely no one’s surprise, Ambrose wasn’t the one to break the silence two hours into our six-hour drive.
I clenched my thighs together for the fifth time in the last twenty miles, but it didn’t help. “I need to pee.”
Ambrose kept his eyes on the road, those dark orbs hidden behind mirrored shades. One arm was slung over the wheel while the other rested on the middle console. He hadn’t moved from that position since we set out.
It was weird enough that it was starting to affect how hot he looked navigating the highway at a speed that defied speed limits.
To be fair, the hotness had a hefty lead. But still.
He didn’t listen to music.
He didn’t mess with the air conditioning.
He just drove—a robot following its prime directive without thought for detours or distractions.
“Did you hear me?” I sat up in my seat, fidgeting like...well, like someone who really needed a bathroom.
“Hold it,” he said.
“We’re not even halfway there!”
His lips turned down. That was the extent of his response.
“Dude.” I pointed out the window. “There’s a fast-food place at the very next exit.”
“Get your fingers off the glass. Were you raised in a barn?”
“That’s what you respond to? Alright then.” I licked my finger and held it up to the glass.
“You wouldn’t.”
I laughed, and the envelope in my lap stopped burning. “Sure you want to try me?”
Ambrose whipped the wheel to the right, taking the exit so fast I thought for sure we’d go flying off the ramp.
He pulled into the parking lot of a desolate-looking gas station. The pavement was cracked, unattended weeds sprouting wildly. A group of guys leaned against the side of the building, cackling and smacking at each other. The crooked door to the bathroom stood between them, covered in rust.
“What are you waiting for?” Ambrose leaned back into his seat. “Go.”
“You think you could’ve picked a sketchier place to stop? They might as well have a sign that reads Murders-R-Us.”
He didn’t so much as twitch. My robot theory gained more traction.
“You wanted to stop,” he said. “We stopped.”
“I wanted to stop at a fast-food place. You know, the ones with lots of foot traffic, lighting, and doors that lock?”
“Are you always so judgmental? They could be upstanding members of society.”
A howl of laughter swung my head around. One of the men swayed from side to side while he...peed against the building? I narrowed my eyes, and yes, that was exactly what he was doing. Meanwhile, his buddies cheered him on as if aiming at a brick building would show up in the next Olympics.
I turned back to Ambrose. “The universe called. It left a message saying that you’re full of shit. Now can we please go somewhere else?”
“No.” He folded his arms behind his head, lean muscle flexing. “Too bad you don’t have any more cupcake ammunition. Maybe you could run them away.”
“You’re going to try and get back at me for that now?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
As soon as I could focus on someth
ing other than the silent scream of my bladder, I was going to strangle him with my bare hands.
“Beg,” he whispered.
I leaned toward him on instinct, lured in by that soft voice while a frown creased my brows. “Excuse me?”
“Beg.”
Acid spread in my chest, the dark gleam in his eyes fading into the background while my past collided with my present.
“Beg, you rich bitch.” His cackling blended with the ringing in my ears until I could barely hear. “Don’t make me tell you twice.”
I’d refused then, and paid the price in pain.
Given the choice, I’d do it all over again.
I bit down on my tongue until Ambrose’s glare greeted me. He was focused on my face, waiting for a reaction he wasn’t going to get. I refused to give him the satisfaction.
Rich, poor, or somewhere in the middle, bullies were all alike. This one just happened to be hotter than most.
“I hate you,” I told him honestly.
What? Just because I wasn’t going to throw a fit didn’t mean this would be swept under the rug.
His lip curled like that was the best news he’d gotten all week. “I would say the feeling’s mutual, but you’re too insignificant for me to hate you.”
“Great. Since we’ve got that out of the way.” I reached for the door handle and quickly slid out of the car, taking a moment to get my bearings.
“Where do you think you’re—”
I slammed the door, cutting him off. Then I started walking. There was a set of golden arches in the distance and a sidewalk that stretched all the way there. Once I used the restroom, I would make use of the black card in my wallet and get a ride.
A block passed beneath my feet before a white Porsche caught up and crawled along beside me. The window was rolled down. I glanced from the corner of my eye and found Ambrose glaring at me, his indifferent act forgotten.
He looked pissed—hand gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles paled.
“I’ve got GPS.” I waved my phone in the air and kept walking. “I’m sure I can find the college myself. Consider whatever favor my dad called in satisfied.”
“It doesn’t—”
A horn blew, cutting him off.
I smiled at the line of traffic forming behind him. It was a two-lane street, so they couldn’t get around.
Tossing a thumb over my shoulder, I said, “You’re blocking the road.”
We weren’t moving fast at all, but he still brought the car to such an abrupt stop that tires squealed.
Shock put me on pause as he got out in the middle of the street. More horns blew. A few people hollered out their windows.
Ambrose acted like he couldn’t hear them as he stomped around the hood and blocked my path. The sun cast shadows along the sharp angles of his face until he resembled a statue instead of something flesh and blood. He towered over me, pulsing with the same silent anger I’d felt from him years ago.
I glanced at the crowd we were attracting, assuring myself he wouldn’t do anything insane like throw me over the side of this bridge.
But it was hard to rule out, and that was the scary thing about his anger. Unlike so many guys, he didn’t wield it like a hammer. No, his frame was a bow pulled taut and his rage was the arrow.
By the time you knew he’d released it, it would already be too late.
“Since you don’t know how things work,” he almost whispered, “I’ll give you a single pass.”
“How kind of you,” I spat.
“Get in the car, now, before I haul your ass over my shoulder and toss you in.”
Dear God,
I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I thought cavemen went extinct lots and lots of years ago. So, kindly explain to me what the fuck is happening here?
Regards,
Emily Brennan.
“Dude.” I shook my head. “Do I need to spell it out for you? I haven’t known you twenty-four hours and you’re already the biggest asshole I’ve ever met. I don’t want a ride. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“Too damn bad.” His voice dropped lower as he closed in on me. “You’re joining the university, and Black Rose has everything to do with me.”
“What are you, campus police? I’m sure the flagrant abuse of power would be right up your alley.”
The loud blare of someone laying on their horn cut him off right as his mouth opened. “Go flirt somewhere else!” the person screamed.
Flirting? With him? Ew.
Psychos weren’t my type.
Mostly.
And speaking of psychos...
Ambrose swiveled his head, and he did it serial-killer slow. His shoulders set. A muscle in his jaw ticked before murder flashed in those dark eyes.
He took a step in that direction and the horn stopped. I would admit with only a smidgen of shame that I considered letting that nameless person be a sacrifice while I high-tailed my butt the other direction.
Then what was left of my morals won out. A truly regretful thing.
I caught him by the arm, quickly letting go. He probably thought that was due to the glare he swung my way. I was content to let his thoughts go that direction.
It was a better option than admitting I found the feel of his corded muscle incredibly distracting.
“You’re making a scene,” I told him, wiping my hand on my thigh to get rid of the tingling.
“Because this crazy chick I got saddled with is being a complete pain in my ass.”
“This crazy chick is about this close”—I pinched my thumb and finger together—”to kicking you in the head and calling it a muscle spasm.”
“Really now?”
I hated how the sudden purr to his voice brushed against my senses. I hated that my immunity to all things male somehow vanished into thin air where he was concerned.
Guys were nice to look at, and good for scratching the occasional itch. That was it. At least it was supposed to be. I had a feeling that being pinned beneath the jerk in front of me would be nothing short of life-changing.
Cataclysmic.
A bigger bang than the one that had wiped the dinosaurs from the face of the Earth.
Ambrose moved into my personal space, hand brushing my hip. My breath caught and he peered down at me, not missing a thing.
His thumb traced the waist of my skirt, briefly dipping beneath the fabric to brush against my skin. For some reason, I didn’t smack him in the face for that move.
He smirked. “If all I had to do for a peek beneath that tiny skirt was piss you off, I might’ve tried harder.”
“You’re disgusting,” I told him, grateful he couldn’t hear the rapid drum of my heart.
I stepped around him before he could respond and got in the car, letting my head fall back against the seat like I didn’t have a care in the world. This probably wasn’t the best idea, but it was better than the alternative.
The devil you know, right?
I could hedge my bets that Ambrose would get me there in one piece. He had some formless favor to repay. It was more than I could say for any random stranger.
Plus, the car meant distance.
It meant his hands would be on the wheel instead of me.
The driver’s side door opened. I felt the car shift as he slid inside and closed the door behind him. He took off down the street, and I knew without looking that he hadn’t so much as waved an apology to the line behind us.
Ambrose didn’t gloat, allowing silence to wrap around us once more. That didn’t stop his smug attitude from bleeding through, staining the air.
I chose not to engage with him for my own sake. If that meant letting him think he’d won, then so be it. There was only so much I could take, and sparring with a dark-eyed jerk after everything else I’d experienced in the last few days had officially put me over capacity.
I needed time. To be alone. To process. To open the letter that burned in my mind’s eye and held a vat of acid over my heart, threate
ning the drop.
The car slowed. I popped my eyes open to find the golden arches glowing overhead. When I snuck a glance at my road-trip buddy, he was staring out into the night, jaw tense.
I opened my mouth and closed it, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “Is this where you tell me I’ve got five minutes?”
“Just go.” He didn’t look at me or take his hand off the wheel.
What crawled up your ass and died all of a sudden?
I shook my head and got out of the car. Whatever his deal was, I didn’t care. Once we were on campus, we’d go our separate ways and never interact again. He could keep his damage all to himself.
Still, I found myself hustling to the restroom and finishing up as quickly as I could. On the way out, someone passed with a milkshake and my mouth watered.
I got in line to get myself a chocolate shake.
Somehow, I wound up walking out with two of them.
My mind told me this was a pointless gesture.
My heart tapped out Morse code signals from the bomb shelter, telling me this was the least I could do.
Favor or not, this was a long-ass way to drive. And as prickly as he made me, he hadn’t complained once.
I could feel his eyes on me as I made my way across the parking lot.
“Here,” I said once I got back in the car, extending one of the shakes his direction.
Ambrose stared for a moment, eyes narrowed.
I cocked my head to the side. “It’s not poisoned.” I thrust the drink his way again. “Only because I didn’t have time.”
Slowly, like they were doing something they weren’t used to, those long fingers unfolded and grabbed the cup.
I let go before our hands could brush, and he blinked down at the cup before frowning at me.
“What’s this?” he asked.
I stuck my straw in and took a sip, letting the cold sit on my tongue for a moment before I swallowed.
Something burned in his eyes when I faced him again.
I did an Oscar-worthy job of ignoring it.
“Milkshake,” I said, taking another sip. His eyes landed on my lips. “Do I need to spell it out for you to get it? I mistakenly thought you were smarter than that.”
He stared, silent as the dead.
Defiant Prince: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Black Rose University Book 1) Page 5
