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“Yeah.” Kian laughs, but there’s no humor in the sound. “That hasn’t changed at all.”
I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. He just stares down at his drink, locked in his head in a way I’m pretty sure isn’t healthy.
“When’s the last time you ate anything?”
He shrugs. “I had some pudding with Garrett this afternoon.”
“That’s fantastic,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “Come on, let’s go to my place. I’ll fix you some real food.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t have to do anything. But man cannot live by pudding alone, so…” I grab his hands and tug him to his feet. “Let’s go.”
At first I think he’s going to argue with me some more. But he just grabs the whiskey and drains it in one long swallow before letting me propel him toward the door.
He doesn’t speak again until we’re seated in my car, and then he reaches over, rests a hand on my knee. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I tell him.
“You did everything. You are everything.”
His voice aches with sincerity and even though I tell myself not to—even though I warn myself that I’m just going to get hurt again—I let myself believe him. Just for a little while.
Chapter 30
Kian
Savvy’s asleep when I get the royal summons from the king. Part of me knows I should wake her, that I shouldn’t just disappear, but she looks so peaceful I don’t want to disturb her. Especially since I’m anything but right now.
In the end, I decide to let her sleep. It’s only eight A.M. and we didn’t get to bed much before five. I dash off a quick text thanking her for taking care of me last night and telling her to call me. Then I stop by the kitchen and set up a pot of coffee for her, so all she has to do is turn it on when she wakes up. I straighten up the kitchen quickly—washing the pan from the omelet she made me last night, along with the plates and forks.
Then, when I can’t put off leaving any longer, I make one last detour by her room to make sure she’s covered…and because I’m just sappy enough to enjoy watching her sleep.
I’m not sure how I got here, but the truth is, I could stand here all morning watching the way the light plays over her skin, watching the way her lips purse and her face wrinkles up just a little when she’s dreaming.
She’s so beautiful, so goddamned beautiful inside and out, I have a hard time imagining that she’s mine. That I’m the man lucky enough to have her in my bed and in my heart—which is cheesy as shit, I know. But I can’t help it. Savvy brings it out in me.
Duty calls, though, so with one last look, I let myself out of her house. Lucas and Niall are at the curb waiting for me, and as I climb into the driver’s seat, I think about apologizing for making them spend yet another night in the SUV. But we all know I’m not the least bit sorry—not when it means I get to spend the night with Savvy—so in the end I settle for giving them both a shit-eating grin meant to set their teeth on edge. When Lucas just rolls his eyes, I know I’ve failed, but I’m too damn happy to care.
Yeah, I know I probably shouldn’t be, considering what I’m heading back to the palace to face. And considering the fact that the woman who put this smile on my face was once Garrett’s girl. I have to tell him about her—about us—but I don’t know how to do it. Or when.
Part of me thinks I should wait until he’s better, but if I wait that long, will he think I’ve been deliberately lying to him? Plus, what are the odds I’m going to be able to keep this a secret that long, anyway? Especially when I want to claim Savvy in front of everyone so that the whole world—and all the men in it—know she belongs to me.
I’ve got to introduce her to my father, get with Roland so that he can start planning how to introduce her to the world. Talk to her about what she wants in terms of our public relationship…but first I need to tell Garrett. Which I’ll do, when I think he’s ready.
By the time we get to the Palace des Fleurs an hour and a half later, my father is blowing up my phone. The fact that he’s texting me himself instead of having one of his minions do it is more than enough to tell me how serious he is.
Still, I detour by Garrett’s room, determined to check on my brother before bearding the lion in his den. But Garrett’s sleeping fitfully—whether from nightmares about his captivity or the obvious pain he’s still in, I don’t know.
Part of me wants to wake him up—I can’t stand the idea of him suffering any more than he already has. But the truth is, I’m not sure he’ll find any more relief awake than he’s already got. So, in the end I just slip out quietly and make a mental note to visit him again after I see my father.
Maybe the intelligence agencies will actually have some answers for us by then, answers that don’t involve the words “unhinged,” “cult” or “new mythology.”
I know in many ways, those are the answers to what happened to Garrett. But I want more. I need an explanation that tells me more than it was a bunch of insane people with a charismatic leader and an axe to grind against my family who did this to Garrett. I want to know why—want to be able to tell Garrett why—and I need it to be something more than just they’re crazy or brainwashed.
Because crazy and brainwashed are actual defenses in court and these bastards shouldn’t have any defense. They should rot in jail for the rest of their lives and to hell with a fair trial. To hell with jurisprudence. They killed three men, kidnapped my brother and then tortured him for three excruciating months.
In my opinion, there isn’t enough crazy in the world to show them any mercy. I just hope the justice department agrees—and that th
