Defiant Prince: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Black Rose University Book 1)

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Defiant Prince: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Black Rose University Book 1) Page 33

by A G Henderson


  Maybe it wasn’t my place to insert myself in their business. I wasn’t a Tarot. There was no clearer evidence of that than the distance between my brother and me. But I knew what wounds looked like, even when they were emotional more than physical.

  I knew what would happen if those wounds were left to spread and fester. After all, hadn’t that been what tore my parents apart? Tossing band-aids on the shattered remnants of their relationship instead of trying to actually fix things?

  Ambrose was mine. By extension, his people were my people. Whether or not Erik and Baron would be my best friends anytime soon didn’t matter. I could want them to all get along for no other reason than I knew how much they meant to him without Ambrose ever saying it aloud. If I could stop this implosion before it ever happened, I would.

  “You know what’s funny?” Ambrose got to his feet, briefly putting us nose to nose before he towered above me. “I don’t seem to remember asking for your input.”

  I staggered back a step.

  “Ro!” Chrom barked.

  I held out a hand, keeping my focus on Ambrose. Those dark eyes were empty of the soul I knew was in there somewhere. Right then, I was looking at the same guy who threw my cupcake into the lake. Who made me walk across campus. Who told me early on that I shouldn’t want anything to do with him.

  Trying to keep that reminder at bay wasn’t easy when he seemed intent on proving himself right.

  “Maybe you didn’t,” I admitted, speaking carefully to keep my voice even. “But I’m not good at ignoring things right in front of my face. You already keep the rest of the world at arm’s length. Do that to the people who care about you, and at some point, they stop trying to change it.”

  He didn’t answer. Nerves strangled my spine as he stepped closer. Three sets of eyes watched our every move, but he was the only thing I could see.

  Ambrose sighed, breath fluttering my hair. Just like that, I relaxed. At least before he shocked the hell out of me.

  “You’re right,” he said.

  “I’m sorry, what?” Erik almost tipped his chair over. “Did I just hear what I think I heard? Somebody back me up here.”

  Baron put his glasses back on. “Damn it. I wish I’d been recording.”

  Chrom laughed. “Fucking. Whipped. Never thought I’d see the day.”

  Ambrose raised his middle finger. “Sit on it and spin, fuckers.”

  Chrom made a loud kissing noise. “Not even if you put a ring on it after, sweetie.”

  I caught the tail end of my snicker with a palm over my mouth. That didn’t stop Ambrose from focusing on me.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying this,” he said.

  “You had it coming.”

  “That so?” He pulled me against him, fingers tucking my hair over my ear. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

  “I’m on my side. You’re just lucky that side includes you.”

  He dropped a quick kiss on the top of my head, grunting when a multitude of sound effects came from the peanut gallery.

  Ambrose placed his hand on the small of my back and turned us so he could face them.

  “Look,” he started, running a knuckle down his jaw. “You all have a point. There is something I’ve been keeping to myself because it is my burden. It’s something I have to be accountable for. That hasn’t changed.”

  “But something has.” Chrom kicked his legs up on the table. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be considering whatever is going through your head right now.”

  Ambrose looked down at me, eyes warm and inviting again. I wanted to get lost in them. To be consumed by him for the rest of the evening, and into the next day, then the day after that. Was it obvious where I was going with this?

  “Yeah,” he said softly. “Something changed. But I need to handle this myself before I can say any more. I need all of you to respect that, at least for a little bit longer.”

  Chrom hopped to his feet. “Works for me. But if it involves beating somebody’s ass, I expect to be the first one that gets notified.”

  I did my best impression of a Southern belle, which was to say I gasped and clutched at the nonexistent pearls around my neck. “Chromwell Salvatore, you wouldn’t.”

  “Unless you’re making more oatmeal raisin cookies”—he pointed at me—”do not call me that.”

  I tilted my head. “I’m pretty sure I used all the brown sugar on the last—”

  “There’s more,” Baron said. “I restocked on everything else too, so we won’t have to fight over the next batch.”

  Ambrose pressed his lips to my ear. “He’s lying,” he whispered. “There was no fight because he hid the rest while we were gone.”

  I clapped my hands together, excited to get to work. “Sounds like I’ve got everything I need.” Turning to Ambrose I said, “And you’re not off the hook. Do whatever you have to do so we can put this behind us, okay?”

  He locked his fingers with mine, giving them a quick squeeze. “I will,” he promised. “No more lies. No more secrets.”

  But for a fraction of a second that hovered above my heart like a cleaver ready to remove pieces...I wasn’t sure I believed him.

  35

  Emily

  “Do we really have to do this?” I asked Erik as we arrived at the restaurant.

  The longer I spent here, the more I started to believe that fate and destiny and all those other concepts that had given philosophers aneurysms since nearly the dawn of time were alive and well.

  Otherwise, what would be the odds that we’d end up at the same brunch spot as before? That felt like forever ago now, but as the same nervous valet I’d given a hard time scurried to get Erik’s keys and escape, I realized it hadn’t been that long ago.

  It was amazing how quickly time flew by when you were having a good time. And receiving a generous bonus of toe-curling orgasms almost every morning and night.

  But I kept those thoughts to myself. We hadn’t reached the stage in our brother-sister relationship where I grossed him out by talking about my sex life.

  Maybe one day.

  “It’s brunch.” Erik tossed his joint to the ground and kept moving. “With our parents. You’re acting like I asked you to go on a fucking dragon-slaying quest or something.”

  We strolled inside, and they were sitting at the same table as before, right in the middle of the room. I bet Dad—or the other Tarots as a whole—reserved it indefinitely so that it’d always be available. Given the stellar treatment Ambrose and the rest of them received, along with the generous tips they left behind, I wouldn’t have been surprised at all if they had their favorite spots all throughout town.

  I stopped Erik with a hand on his arm.

  Mom and Dad were talking with their heads bent close together, and her hand was nestled in the crook of his arm. Hair the same strawberry and sunlight shade as mine fell in loose rings around a face that looked fuller and healthier than the last time I saw it. And while I’d never dare admit to it, she was rocking the navy blue, designer dress she had on.

  More surprising than how good she looked was that Dad had worn a matching suit that was a slightly darker shade of blue. Since when did they go out in color-coordinated outfits?

  And they looked happy to be sitting there snuggled up all close together like this was a fucking everyday thing. I knew I’d seen it once, but seeing it twice made the whole thing impossible to deny.

  Definitely in the Twilight Zone this time.

  I discreetly pinched myself but the garish, stark-white decorations and the other sights around me didn’t go anywhere. Neither did my brother who was busy scowling at my hand on his arm like I might wrinkle his cashmere sweater. I let go, mostly because I couldn’t believe he was wearing a cashmere sweater.

  “I’d rather hunt the dragon,” I said, painfully aware of my leather skirt and band tee. The skirt was longer than some of the others, but short enough that I knew Mom would hate it. My tattoos were on display, and it was a matter of time before D
ad noticed and let his nose curl.

  A smart, well-mannered person may have dressed up again to appease them.

  Too bad for all of us I wasn’t that person.

  They wanted me here; they were going to get me how I decided to arrive. Or they wouldn’t get me in the first place. Besides, if they threw a bitch fit in the first few minutes I wouldn’t have to feel bad about walking out and calling a ride.

  Erik started forward and I regretfully went with him.

  “Just grin and bear it,” he whispered. “If you can manage to shoot the shit without pissing them off, I’ll buy you that damn blender you’ve got saved in your cart.”

  “How do you know about the blender?”

  “Dad gave you access to everything, genius. That includes the accounts I use too.”

  He did?

  I wanted to question him about that some more, but once we got within a few feet they looked up, spotting us. My spine tightened as they took us in, and I didn’t miss how their eyes narrowed in tandem at my appearance.

  Yep, this is going to be over pretty damn fast.

  “Dad,” Erik said, dropping into his seat with an annoyed sigh before his eyes flicked to the side. “Mother.”

  Mom stopped studying me long enough for me to decide I’d give sitting down a shot and see how things went. Her focus landed on my brother, and I was glad to keep my attention on the two of them since Dad hadn’t stopped staring still.

  My fingers tingled with the need to rub the side of my face. I hadn’t smudged my lipstick or something, had I? There was about a fifty-fifty chance Erik would’ve said something, and I hadn’t looked in a mirror since before he picked me up.

  “Mom is fine, sweetie,” she told him.

  Erik glared at her until the waiter arrived, ordered a coffee, then held the menu up to his face without responding.

  Mission abort, Captain. Shit is already off the rails.

  Too bad I didn’t have a convenient escape hatch.

  I settled for ordering tea and looking at the two people I had...conflicting feelings about. Mom chewed on the inside of her cheek and glanced at Dad. He had his brows furrowed on Erik before they swung to me.

  “Things haven’t been standard as of late,” he began, deep voice both familiar and not, “but some manners would be appreciated. We taught you better than that.”

  Erik flipped his menu over. “Was that before or after D-Day? It’s hard to remember.”

  Mom shifted in her seat.

  Dad squeezed the linen holding his utensils like it was Erik’s neck.

  How the hell did I end up as the level-headed party?

  “You got us here,” I said before Erik ran his mouth again. “Can we just...skip all the pointless stuff and get to why?”

  Mom smoothed her features out. “We were worried, Emily. You’ve been spending so much time with the Tarots, and we wanted to make sure nothing had happened to you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Erik crunched the menu in his fists, eyes flaring.

  “You know exactly what it means,” Dad said.

  “If this is about Ro—”

  Dad brought his fist down on the table hard enough to make the dishes jump. “I warned both of you about them. And instead of listening, one of you joined them and the other decided she’d date the very same monster I wanted to keep her away from.”

  “Monster?” Heat spread through my chest.

  Think mediator thoughts. Get through this, and you can ignore them for longer next time.

  Mom patted him on the hand. “Sweetheart, we agreed you’d let me handle this.” She turned to me. “Emily, I know I’ve given you a lot of leeway during the split. But—”

  “No,” I cut her off, not bothering to stop when the waiter came back with drinks. “Whatever you’re about to say, save it. Explain this”—I waved a hand between them—”to me before anything else. You guys got a divorce. So what the hell is going on?”

  “What she said,” Erik added.

  Things had to be bad for him to be on my side.

  Dad adjusted his tie. “Technically, the divorce was never finalized. Your mother refused to sign the papers. We were...separated.”

  Did I need to paint it in blood for them to pay attention to the question I wanted answered?

  “And now you’re not?” I prodded.

  They shared another gag-worthy glance full of imaginary hearts. Erik actually made a choking sound beside me and covered it with a strained cough.

  The waiter was still there, waiting for our orders. Dad flayed him with a look. “Give us some privacy. We’ll let you know when we’re ready.”

  When we were as alone as could be in a restaurant full of people, Dad took several deep breaths before releasing six words I didn’t think he would ever say. Words I honestly didn’t think he was capable of before I heard them.

  “I owe you both an apology.”

  Then I was positive this was an alternate universe or a fever dream, because Mom followed up with, “As do I.”

  “We did what no parent should ever do,” Dad continued, either immune to the baffled looks Erik and I were giving them or completely unaware of them. “We let our own personal grievances trickle down and get in the way of what should’ve been our priority: you two.”

  Erik rubbed his ear. “Am I hearing this right now? You’ve got to be shitting me.” He pointed at Mom. “Since we’re getting it all out in the open here, she cheated and you proceeded to lose your shit over it. From that point on, you came down on every single thing I did like it was never enough. The only person you managed to treat worse was Em.”

  Dad’s neck flushed, but he faced us head-on. “You’re absolutely right. I know I can’t make up for those years that I failed as a parent, as a father, but I want to—”

  “No,” I said.

  Everyone blinked at me.

  “No...what?” Mom asked, pulling her lip between her teeth.

  I did the same thing when I was nervous, and I immediately wanted to break myself of the habit.

  “Just...no.” I shook my head. “You don’t get to play the I want to make things right card after all this time. You don’t get to invite us here in an attempt to smooth things over and move on. This isn’t a fucking pothole you can pour some filling in. We’re talking about a divide the size of the Grand Canyon. That you two even think a conversation would fix this just shows how much of my time I’m wasting sitting here listening to this!”

  My voice had risen bit by bit. Eyes that had been mildly curious before were now turned our way in earnest, ready to devour whatever juicy scraps of gossip they could pick up about the Brennan family and our disastrous past.

  Nothing I’d said was a lie. This was a waste of time. There were about a hundred other places I would rather be, and that was from the top of my head.

  But if they were in the mood to admit to their mistakes, there was one thing I’d always wanted to know.

  “I have a question,” I said, forcing my tone to be even while I pinched my thigh beneath the table. “Either you can answer it, or I can leave.”

  Erik grunted. “We can leave. You’re not the only one tired of being on the spin cycle.”

  I glanced at him. If I had to choose a bright side to this debacle, it would have to be that Erik and I seemed to be on the same page for the first time since I’d gotten here.

  Mom nodded. “Ask us. We owe you nothing but the truth.”

  My attention went to Dad. “Five years.”

  James Brennan—former Tarot, successful businessman, and bastard to anyone who crossed him—flinched.

  His face contorted, and I felt nothing.

  “Five. Years,” I said again, blowing out a shuddering, superheated breath. “Whatever else was going on, how do you expect to explain to me why you didn’t call, once? Not a single text. Not a voicemail. No passed along messages. In five years, you couldn’t be bothered to send so much as a postcard.”

  “Because we agreed,” M
om whispered, knocking the world askew.

  I leaned forward like I was about to climb across the table. Which of them I’d go for first I didn’t know. “You did what?”

  Dad tugged at his tie again, leaving it askew. “We agreed for the same reason that we moved away from this place before you two were born. Just because we failed doesn’t mean we didn’t try, Emily. This town makes itself look like Olympus brought to the modern day, but it’s not home to any gods. There’s a cancer here, and it lies in wait, stealing the lives from the same people who think they’re in charge. That’s why we had to leave.”

  He’s not even making sense. Is this what guilt does to a man? Turns him into an incoherent mess?

  It’d be what he deserved. But if he was losing the plot, I needed to understand first.

  I folded my arms. “You’re sure it didn’t have anything to do with Alyssa Stone?”

  Dad grimaced.

  Mom shivered.

  “I’m not surprised you know,” she said softly, “given the company you’ve been keeping. But there are always three sides to every story. Their side, your side, and the truth somewhere in the middle.”

  Erik scoffed. “You read that on a pamphlet on the way in here? Riddle me this, why the fuck should we care?”

  She took a steadying breath and I watched her carefully for any sign of deceit. It wouldn’t be the first time she put on an emotional act to get what she wanted. Except I couldn’t see how either of them benefited from this.

  They were shitty parents. No one could or would deny that. But despite how I felt about them, they weren’t idiots either.

  They knew as well as I did that this little talk wasn’t going to end with us riding into the sunset together on a family trip filled with laughter and smiles.

  Our family dynamic was more like an amusement park attraction in the first place. And not the fancy kind of attraction either with the polished metal and up to date safety codes. We had the fraying seat belts, the warped wood, the track that was so past the point of needing to be decommissioned that it groaned in agony on each loop.

  “Alyssa Stone was part of the reason,” Mom said, looking me dead in the eye. “You’re right about that. We moved not long after I found out I was pregnant, and it turned out to be fate.”

 

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