The Prince and the Pawn

by Reid, B. B.

  “He’s not.” I was proud of the confidence in my tone when I answered though I didn’t feel it. “Have you seen him?”

  “Sure, I have.” He took the time to sip from the beer can he was holding before telling me where to find Vaughn. “He went upstairs with you five minutes ago.”

  Ignoring what was obviously the rambles of a drunk, I shook my head as I watched him stumble away. How could Vaughn have gone upstairs with me if I was standing right here?

  Growling over the precious minutes I wasted talking to Barney Gumble, I headed for the stairs. Some of the party had spilled onto the beach, but I hadn’t seen Vaughn on my way in. There was only one place left to look. Despite all the soirees he threw, Vaughn was an introvert at heart and rarely stayed to enjoy his own party. Of course, for the past year, I’d been the only one making sure Vaughn didn’t get too lonely. It was possible he’d already drunk too much and was passed out in bed.

  On my way up, which was slow going thanks to the revelers crowding it, I dialed Selena’s phone. It had been hours since she stormed out this morning, and I was beginning to worry she’d fled back to Texas. My father was missing when I got home after my shift, so I hadn’t had the chance to talk to him, either. I didn’t blame any of them, Vaughn included, for wanting to avoid me. I hardly recognized myself anymore.

  The line began to ring just as I finally reached the landing, and through the background noise, I heard what also sounded like a phone ringing. There were three bedrooms on the second floor, so I figured someone had made use of the two spares. I started toward the master suite that Vaughn kept off-limits to guests just as Selena’s voicemail kicked. Gritting my teeth, I stabbed her name again. I felt bad for what had happened, but I was also done with being ignored.

  The ringing began again but not just in my ear. My heart dropped to my stomach as I stared at the door of the master suite in front of me. It had to be a coincidence. Hanging up, I listened as the ringing on the other side stopped. My breaths came faster now, and anxiety warmed my skin as my thumb hovered over my sister’s name. I couldn’t find the courage to dial again—not when a moan loud enough for me to hear over the music downstairs escaped through the closed bedroom door. I felt robbed of everything I held dear. Empty. So, so empty.

  He went upstairs with you five minutes ago.

  Knowing I would never truly believe it unless I saw for myself, I forced my trembling hand to grip the doorknob.

  And then I pushed inside.

  The room that had been covered in darkness was now bathed in the light from the hallway. It allowed me to see the two figures clearly, despite the tears stinging my eyes and flowing freely now.

  Vaughn’s teammate hadn’t been mistaken.

  My legs threatened to collapse from under me while my feet begged for me to flee. Impossible. My heart had been a snow-topped mountain, and this was the avalanche coming to bury me. I couldn’t look away any more than I could go back in time before I opened the door to the end of me. My soul had been crushed, the tethered bond slashed.

  The head that had been tilted back in ecstasy, pleasure my sister eagerly gave, lowered. Slowly, his green eyes opened. All I saw in them was the reflection of my own sorrow. His gaze was an empty mirror. There was no remorse, no guilt, no surprise.

  Vaughn simply closed his eyes again as if I weren’t standing there.

  “What the hell?”

  To my complete humiliation, I recognized the voice. I felt my friends standing behind me in the doorway, witnessing everything. I couldn’t bear the thought of facing them, but I couldn’t stay here, either. Turning on my heel, I pushed past them. No one resisted or tried to stop me. I think they were all too shocked by what they saw to react. I was grateful for it allowed me the head start I’d need moments later.

  “HEY.” I FLICKED SELENA’S FOREHEAD to get her attention when she continued gnawing on my dick long after we were alone. My friends had taken off after Tyra, which meant the torture could finally end.

  Have you ever been sucked off by a horny shark?

  Would not recommend.

  When she finally released my dick and met my gaze, I pushed her away, making her fall on her trifling ass. Who the hell sucks dick with their eyes closed anyway? “We’re done here.”

  “But you didn’t come,” she flirted, reaching for me again.

  “Do you really care?” I challenged as I quickly tucked myself back inside my sweats. “She saw us. She’s broken. Mission accomplished.”

  Standing, Selena placed her hands on her hips with a conspiratorial smile. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you got the pound of flesh you came here for, now pack up, and get the fuck out of my town.”

  “Hmmm…I kind of like it here. I think I’ll stay.”

  Over my dead body. Or yours. “Do you really think Tyra’s going to go for that after what we just did?”

  “Why wouldn’t she?” When she shrugged her shoulders, I knew she thought she’d get away with it. “I’m her sister. She’ll forgive me eventually. It’s not like you two were serious or anything.”

  I paused, mentally calculating how long I’d go to prison if I strangled her to death. “That’s not what you had to say twenty-four hours ago when you couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut.”

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing.” I shoved past her on my way out of the room, and when I hit the stairs, it was hard as fuck keeping my pace casual and my expression impassive as I made my way down. Getting through the thick crowd was even harder, but finally, I made it outside in time to see my friends rushing toward the parked cars in search of Tyra. They’d be pissed, that much was inevitable, and I was not looking forward to the hell they’d bring down on my head when the dust cleared.

  I wasn’t sure what led me underneath the house, but when I found her there, hugging one of the stilts, my resolve almost broke for the first time since she caught me with my pants down.

  Almost.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that,” I said when she didn’t turn around. Tyra knew I was there, but she avoided facing me as if it would delay the inevitable.

  “But you’re not—” Her voice broke, and I forced my feet not to move. “You’re not sorry you did it?”

  “No.” It was amazing how our tones individually reflected what we were feeling inside—hers in shambles while mine was so incredibly empty.

  “And when you said you loved me…are you sorry for that, too?”

  I closed my eyes, cursing her for bringing up that night and me for believing I’d meant every word. This would be so much simpler if I weren’t so reckless. If I hadn’t opened the door and foolishly let her in.

  “Yes.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  I sighed, wanting to walk away right then and there, but the need to see this through kept me rooted to the spot. “I’m bored, Tyra. I don’t know how else to put it.”

  “So, you put it in that bitch instead?”

  The part of me that remembered we’d at least been friends once upon a time wanted to assure her that I hadn’t fucked her sister—as if that made a difference. Instead, I told myself that it was better if Tyra believed the worst.

  “Look at me,” I ordered against my better judgment. Always the stubborn pip, Tyra shook her head, refusing. Stepping forward, I gripped her shoulders gently and turned her around. It was now or never. She needed to see that I was completely fucking serious. “I made a mistake.”

  As if my body were fighting against me, I felt my finger twitch. A moment later, something resembling relief flooded her gaze. I didn’t get the chance to question why because Tyra started to melt into my arms. It was all I could do not to take her into them. My fingers dug into her shoulders, the need was so great, but I also realized they were keeping her at bay. I saw her hurt behind my rejection, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more. I needed to ensure myself and her that we were done. Irrevocably broken.

  Finally, she pushed me away, and I let her. I
was relieved to see that her fire still burned, that the most crucial parts of Tyra would survive after she walked away. Otherwise, this would all be in vain. “It took you a year to figure that out?”

  I forced myself to shrug, feeling the wind, but nothing was as cold as her icy gaze. Realizing how close I was to our inevitable end, I spoke, driving that final nail into our coffin.

  “I was looking for something different, and up until now, you provided that.”

  “You mean up until I let you—” She looked ready to collapse right then and there. “Until I let you fuck me.”

  My eyes narrowed at the sorrow in her tone. I might be ending this now, but I didn’t regret a single moment. Unlike her. “Let’s not forget,” I said, wanting to hurt her for a different reason now, “you begged me not to stop.”

  “I thought maybe—” She looked away, her guilt and shame overshadowing her pain. “I thought maybe you’d change your mind.”

  My nostrils flared at her confession. I wanted to shake her for her stupidity. It seemed my father hadn’t been the only one with an agenda. “You mean you thought you could manipulate my feelings with sex?” I scoffed at that to hide my own hurt. “While you were a phenomenal fuck, Bradley, no pussy is that good.”

  “I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

  “Finally, something we can agree on,” I heard myself say and none too gently. I was starting to feel like a spectator and not a participant—as if I’d locked away the part of me that wanted to take it all back and threw away the key. “No, it doesn’t matter now.”

  Tyra seemed to stare right through me as I held her gaze, listening to music above us and the waves crashing behind us. I wondered what she was thinking. I reminded myself it didn’t matter.

  “Just tell me one thing,” she pleaded, and it was all I could do not to deny her as a lone tear slipped down her cheek. For some reason, that single tear cut me deeper than all the rest. The determination in her gaze told me I’d won, and it ripped my fucking heart out. “Of all the girls you could have screwed, why did it have to be her? Why did it have to be my sister?”

  A thousand truths screamed at me at once, needing to be heard. I ignored them all—except one.

  “Because she helped me see who I’ve been all along. With her, I could finally stop running.”

  Tyra stilled at what sounded like a confession of love, and then her eyes drifted shut as she inhaled. When she finally opened them, the warmth I’d grown used to seeing in her whiskey gaze was gone. “Good for you. Good for you both. I hope the two of you are very happy burning in hell together.”

  It was all I could do not to snatch her ass back when she stepped around me. Instead, I stood rooted to the spot, staring at the small footprints she’d left in the sand. Watching Tyra walk away forever was too huge a risk to my willpower. I’d done the impossible and rewritten our stars, and I knew she would never forgive me for it.

  Feeling my hands shake, I took a deep breath and balled them into fists before checking my watch. Ten minutes. Finding my car, I abandoned my party and sped all the way home. When I walked through the iron doors, my father was there to greet me with a small army of men prepared to do his bidding if I’d been even a second late.

  “Is it done?”

  “It’s done.”

  “Good.” Reaching inside his suit jacket, my father removed a small, blue box. He’d found it in my room yesterday after he’d gone looking for proof of Selena’s claim. It was the same blue box containing Wren’s engagement ring. The ring my father assumed I’d intended for Tyra.

  It was all the proof he needed that he’d found his perfect pawn.

  “You won’t be needing this anymore,” he said as he handed it over. “So consider this a show of mercy. Son or not, it’s the only one you’ll get from me.” As soon I took it from him, he looked over his shoulder. A man I’d only met once and already loathed appeared. “You remember Jeremy Antonov. My most promising protégé.” The malice I detected in my father’s tone was due to what Antonov really represented. Not the preservation of Thirteen, but the ruin of my father’s coveted dynasty. “Jeremy here is going to make sure you keep your word.”

  Five months later

  HAVE YOU EVER NOTICED HOW the stillness of a room could make your thoughts feel a little less private? It was as if suddenly you were thinking through a megaphone, and the people around you could hear every word. It was all I could do not to look up and search for that knowing gaze in the crowd, the one who knew the sin that had been festering in my mind for the last five months.

  Murder.

  Specifically, how to get away with it. I wished Harvard had taken a page from Shonda Rhimes and offered that course instead of the humdrum philosophies of frail men long dead. Reading one of the questions on my final Ethics exam for the third time, I inhaled deeply when the fluttering in my stomach continued as it had for the past hour.

  Not now. Please stop. Please, please, please stop.

  Glancing at the clock above the professor’s desk, my heart quickened as a bead of sweat rolled down my temple. Filling in A, whether it was the right answer or not, I moved on.

  “Hey, are you okay?” The bespectacled guy seated next to me leaned over and whispered again. “Are you…should I call someone?”

  “I’m fine.” I kept my eyes on my test even though I knew it was rude. He was just trying to be nice, but the last thing—the very last thing—I needed was to be caught by the proctors and accused of cheating. Not when I was already failing.

  Okay, technically, a C minus wasn’t failing, but it might as well be when you’re used to getting perfect grades.

  Shrugging, the guy went back to his test while I gripped my pencil. Feeling it crack under pressure, I wondered if I’d really been broken this easily, too.

  Harvard had promised to be challenging enough. Toss in a broken heart, however, and it was more than hard. It was fucking brutal. And my GPA…if I didn’t score at least a ninety on all of my exams, I was toast. My scholarship would be pulled, and I’d have no way to pay for school.

  Among other things.

  Tossing my broken pencil aside, I picked up my spare. I then spent the next hour tapping my foot and probably irritating my classmates, thanks to my bladder threatening to burst. I’d been sure to go before the test started, but it hadn’t been enough. I almost whimpered. I still had twenty questions I couldn’t remember the answers to and an hour left.

  I wasn’t sure if my sudden need to cry was just hormones or the fact that medical school was slipping further and further from my grasp. Gritting my teeth, I told myself to get a grip. I wasn’t letting that asshole destroy me a second time.

  As soon as I filled in the last question, I shot to my feet, ignoring the startled gazes as I rushed up the short aisle toward the front of the room and handed over my Scantron sheet. Thankfully, the nearest bathroom was only a few feet away. Bursting inside, I barely made it inside one of the stalls and thanked my lucky stars for wearing sweats today. Not that any of my jeans were an option anymore. Once my bladder was relieved, I made my way out of Emerson Hall and descended the steps.

  Pausing on the sidewalk, a cold wind blew, making me shiver as I casually let my gaze pass over the area. I was half expecting to see a silver BMW parked somewhere on the street. The make and color seemed to be a popular style in the Boston/Cambridge area. I always seemed to spot one wherever I went. One time, I’d gotten paranoid enough to call campus security because I started seeing one with the same license plate over and over. I felt a little stupid when they calmly pointed out how the car might have belonged to another student. Oddly enough, I hadn’t seen it again, and all of the silver beamers I’d spotted since all had different plates.

  Sighing, I begin the trek to Ivy Yard while wishing I had my own car. I’d left my Honda back home since the public transportation was ten times more convenient. Five measly minutes, and I was out of breath by the time I pushed through the doors of Apley Court. Becoming taxed easily was
my new reality. At least for a little while longer. The judgmental stares and pitying glances I received weren’t new, either, but I doubt those would ever change.

  Fuck them.

  The dorm I’d been assigned to used to be home to some famous poet who, rumor had it, hid his work in the walls. Jamie and Bee had paid me a surprise visit for Halloween, and Bee spent the entire time staring at the walls when I told her. Jamie spent it gazing at her ass, so it had worked out marvelously for me and the oversized kangaroo costume I’d worn. Since today was the last day of final exams and Christmas was just a few days away, Apley Court was a ghost town. Most of the residents who’d avoided me like the plague these last couple of months had already migrated back home for winter break, and I was grateful. I kept my fingers crossed as I slowly climbed the stairs that my roommate had already fled campus, too.

  Nope. No such luck.

  I barely suppressed a groan when I stepped inside and found her zipping her suitcase closed. Mary Marshall was a law major—or at least she planned to be. She definitely had the personality for it with her inquisitive nature and tendency to give strangers the third degree. She was also high-strung and a chatterbox, but at least she kept her side of the room clean. If only she could figure out how to stay on it. Personal space was not something the freckle-faced redhead understood.

  Hearing me enter, she looked up, offering me a cheerful smile that I managed to return before turning toward the walk-in closet I’d lucked out on and dragging my suitcase out.

  “I’m so excited to see my mama and daddy and little brothers,” she immediately began. I closed my eyes, hoping to block out the sound of her voice. Mary was a Georgia native, and her southern accent only reminded me that I hadn’t spoken to my best friend in more than two months—despite her frequent calls and texts. “I’ve never gone this long without seeing them before.”