is me.
My world is caving in around me. I’ve been rocking back and forward in the waiting room since we got here. They still haven’t let us see Royce, and he’s apparently still in surgery. Running my hands through my hair, I continue to rock furiously, attempting to talk myself down from the outburst I can feel rising.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault. No one can stop Royce when he’s in a rage. Except when I think those words, I know that’s a lie. There is one person who could have stopped him.
Calmed him.
Me.
He wanted to leave, and I left him down there all for what? My pride? Because I wanted to sulk instead of snatching him away from a girl I know he doesn’t give a fuck about?
The strong stench of metal fills my nostrils and I bring my hands down to my face. Red streaks of blood crust over the palms of my hands, trapped between my fingers. My hands shake as I furiously take in every single droplet of blood.
Royce’s blood.
I fly to my feet and tear off my hoodie, and then look down at the t-shirt I had underneath, only seeing his stained blood smeared over that too. His life was right there. On me. Stained. What if this is all I have left of him? I tear off my shirt and throw it onto the ground with the hoodie.
“Jade, sweetheart.” My mom comes closer to me, her hand on my arm. I flinch away from her, the tears in my eyes blurring my vision. I don’t even feel them drop down my cheeks anymore, because I’m so numb. So, so, so numb. “Your father will take you home to shower and change. There’s nothing you can do here…”
I shake my head, my dry hair scratching against my shoulders.
“Duchess…” Orson says, and a warm hoodie comes over my shoulders. “Put this on and I’ll get Mom to wash your clothes.” Before he can take my discarded clothes, I lean down and scoop them up, running to the bin and tossing the pile inside. Pain grips at my heart again, injecting me with its ugly poison and refusing to let go. I don’t want it to either, because the guilt is unbearable.
“I should have gone. I should have listened to him and came back to the boat.” Just as the words leave my lips, Storm is beside me protectively. Officers amble into the room and I watch through blurred vision as Dad stands and addresses them, though we don’t ever have to worry. Kyle Kane has the entire fucking force in his back pocket. The day I realized this was the day I saw Royce’s bad side. I never wanted to see it again, because I was afraid. Afraid that something like this would happen again.
“He’s going to be okay, Dutch. This is Royce. He doesn’t go down like that…”
My eyes squeeze closed as I replay everything tonight. From the party, to my sleeping, to Orson coming to wake me. Goddamnit! Why did I not think that was weird? Usually it would have been Royce coming to get me. Why didn’t I see the urgency with Orson, or the worry lines with Storm?
I fly off my chair again. “Why the fuck did no one tell me he was hurt on the boat?” The officers stop talking with Dad as Mom looks around nervously at the passing nurses. Always afraid of what people are thinking.
I point to a guilty-looking Orson and Storm. “You both could have told me!”
“What good would that have done, Duchess?” Orson stands, pushing his hands into his pocket. “He didn’t want you to know because he knew it would set you off. There was nothing we could do until we were back on land. He just—” Orson pauses, his eyes boring through me. “He just wanted you.”
I cross my arms in front of myself defensively. Pain anchors my heart and refuses to let go. “He will always have me. Forever. Reg—” My voice breaks and my knees buckle. “Oh my god, what if I lose him?” The mere thought of ever losing Royce was enough to make me hurt physically. I couldn’t and wouldn’t survive the absence that he would leave.
Royce and Storm both drop to the ground on either side of me, their arms around my neck. “Hey,” Orson whispers into my ear. “He is going to be alright. You know there’s no way that stubborn fucker will let you walk this earth without being able to protect you.”
My lips quiver and my heart throbs from the new scar that’s inflicted on it, initials RK.
“Mr. and Mrs. Kane?” A doctor dressed in scrubs enters and I once again fly to my feet.
“Yes?” my mom says, but I push everyone out of my way and make it to the front.
Mom nods. “His sister. Please, go on.”
Dad is beside me, an arm around my shoulder with Mom on the other side. My other two brothers behind us.
This is it.
My pulse quickens, blood crashing through my ears. This could be the end of life as I know it.
“He’s going to be okay. He’s actually awake now and is asking for… Duchess?” the doctor says, confused. The relief that floods through me is heavy enough to cement my feet to the ground. I clasp my hands together and give myself a few minutes of breath, before following the doctor down to his room while everyone else waits in the waiting room.
Seeing his name Royce Kyle Kane inscribed into the little clipboardt in front of his room burns a new fire through my veins. I want to get him out of here.
The doctor opens the door and gestures inside. “He may not make a lot of sense because he’s still coming to. Try not to take anything he may say to heart. It’s probably the cocktail of drugs that he’s on.”
Curling my lips behind my teeth, my shoulders slump in defeat as I push through the doors to enter. The sharp beeping, the pungent smell of bleach, the beeping.
“Roy?” I whisper, and he turns his head, his arm stretched out wide. He doesn’t look bad. His face is the same. He looks normal, if not for the wires connecting him to a machine.
“Get in here. Now.” He’s still bossy.
I can’t stop the tears that spill over my cheeks as I rush forward.
“Stop crying, Duchess,” he growls, wriggling up the bed.
I swipe my tears away angrily, scowling at him. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that you were hurt!”
He reaches for my hand, but I retreat away from him.
“I’m so angry with you. I thought you died!”
He snatches my hand in his and yanks me down, freakishly strong for someone who just came out of surgery. “And what would you have done, hmmm?” Finally, I lie down, kicking off my Vans and saddling up beside him. “You need a shower and give Orson his fucking hoodie back.”
“Shut up,” I murmur against his body, tears drenching the sheets. “Don’t ever do that again.”
“Mmmmhmmm.” I can hear the drowsy tone in his voice, he must be drifting off. “Duchess?” I don’t answer, squeezing the white sheets in the palm of my hand. “I love you, you know that, right?”
“I love you too,” I say softly, and before I can form any other words, sleep takes hold of my muscles and my eyes turn heavy.
“Are you kidding me? Look how cute they are!” I hear Sloane’s voice in the background as I come to, swiping the sleep from my eyes. Once everyone is in focus, I take in how many people are actually in Royce’s room.
Mom, Dad, and Sloane, along with Orson, Storm, Annette—gag—Orson’s father and Storm’s mother—who is the district attorney for the Bay Area.