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Royce shifts toward me.
“Maybe he didn’t want you to listen. Usually you suck at it.” Royce glares.
“The stakes were too high.”
Royce steps closer to me. “And you’re too strong to take orders from any-fucking-body,” he growls, real anger in his dark eyes. “You need to realize this now before it’s too fucking late. Look around you, soak up the power they, that we all, are and have given you without even realizing. The fate of this town lies in a single decision of an eighteen-year-old girl?” His brows jump. “Must be a helluva girl, yeah?”
I close my eyes but don’t get a second longer to think, the door behind us opens, a security guard blocking the entryway.
He meets each of our eyes and takes a single step back. He lets us by, but his baton flings forward before Bass can step off.
Bass drops his head back lazily, his hands sliding in his pockets.
“Step back inside,” the man tells him.
“Let him through.” Anger flares.
The guy’s eyes find mine. “I have orders-—”
“Orders that you’ll forget about as of right now.” I glance at Royce who tips his chin the slightest bit. I step forward, head high. “All your orders will come from me now. The only people allowed to step through that door and off on this floor is the three of us, Maddoc, and Victoria.”
Royce leans over me, holding his phone out for the man to look at the screen. “This is Victoria. I’ll send you the photo.”
The man’s frown is deep. “Mr. Brayshaw will be arriving—”
“And you will send him away. He can enter when and if I say.”
“You clear, Fernando?” Royce stands tall at my back.
When I look to Bass he winks.
“Yes, sir.” He turns to me, dropping his chin to his chest. “Ms. Brayshaw, I wish Captain quick healing.”
“Thanks,” I rasp, moving my feet when Royce grips my hand and takes off down the hall.
Right when we get to the end – an open room with hanging TVs, a small kitchen area, and stocked bar – a short, pudgy man walks from the double doors.
“Doc?” Royce’s grip on my hand tightens to the point I’d worry he’d break a knuckle, but I don’t dare react. I doubt he even knows he’s doing it.
“Almost out of surgery, they’re sewing him up now.”
“He’s okay?” My free hand shoots out, gripping Royce’s forearm.
“He will be. I’ve collected the bullet.” His eyes shift toward Royce. “Should you need it for any reason.”
His meaning is clear – in case we need to figure out who the shooter was.
Royce’s response confirms we already know, but the man doesn’t dare ask. Royce takes it, and nods, calling over one of the security guards.
He hands him the bullet. “Melt it down, reshape it and give it back to me,” he orders.
“Yes, sir.” The man asks no questions and walks away.
The doctor starts to turn, but his eyes linger on me.
“Hey, Doc,” Royce calls, noticing as well. “If you need anything, for Captain, you’ll need to speak to Raven.” Royce looks to me, apology and understanding. “His wife.”
“Yes, sir.” The doctor doesn’t bat an eyelash and takes the announcement as his okay to approach me directly. He reaches for my hand.
Hesitantly I slip it into his, frowning when cool metal meets my palm.
“My sorrow is yours, Mrs. Graven.” My body locks at the name as does Royce’s beside me. “We will protect him as we can, get him well.”
“When you look at him, I need you to see a Brayshaw. When you speak to me, speak to one.” I tug my hand free of Royce’s and close it over his on mine. “There are no Gravens here.”
“Yes, ma’am. Go, rest.” He looks between us both, motioning to the couches behind us. “We will come get you the moment he’s in his room. Not much longer now. His wallet, brass knuckles, and phone have been bagged. The nurse will place them in his room as she prepares it.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
With that, he walks away, and I open my palm to find a ring sitting in it, an item he chose not to place with the rest of Captain’s belongings.
It’s small, the band black, the front the shape of a crown with tiny pinkish-purple diamonds at the three tips.
I look to Royce who frowns at the jewelry, a curious expression on his face.
“What?”
He licks his lips and looks away. “Nothing. It’s perfect for you.”
When I stand there frozen, staring at it, Bass steps over to me. He tips his head to the side a little, so he can meet my eyes better.
He grabs the ring from my palm, seizes my hand, and slips it on... my middle finger.
“Fuck everyone, Raven. This is your crown. Wear it.”
I nod, then move to the couch near Royce.
Bass lingers a few feet away, his eyes roaming around every few seconds.
