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“I don’t want to do this with you right now,” I tell him, determined to stop this before it goes any farther. I loved the time I spent with Lola that night, loved how she pushed and prodded me out of my comfort zone and into hers. Listening to him talk about it with such disgust is ruining it, tainting it with all my fucked-up feelings about him.
“I’m sure you don’t. But what you want isn’t an issue right now, Garrett. Wildemar is. Or have you forgotten your position?”
It’s the same refrain I’ve heard over and over again in my life. The you’re not important, only the country is speech that first showed up when I was four or five. I’ve bought into that my whole life, have never questioned it. Hell, I believe it still. But hearing him say it after the way he’s spent the last nine months jerking me around? It feels fake and flat and infuriating. So, so infuriating. “Yeah, well, future leader isn’t exactly my position anymore, so I figure I don’t have to follow the same playbook these days.”
Another prolonged silence. “Do I need to remind you that you are still a prince of Wildemar? As such, there are certain expectations of you—”
“Really?” I choke on a laugh. “Because I remember whole years when Kian’s only obligations were getting drunk and screwing as many women as he could.”
“What’s happened to you?” It’s not a question so much as a complaint. “Did that kidnapping really change you this much? Did it really make you this bitter?”
“Shocking, I know, Dad, that three months of torture could change a person.”
“If you’re going to be sarcastic, I will hang up.”
Like that’s a threat? I couldn’t get that lucky. “It’s not the torture that made me bitter. It’s what I came home to.”
He sighs. “Are we back to this again?”
“I’m not really sure how we could avoid it, since you’ve stripped me of the title I’ve held since birth.”
“It is within my powers as King to do so. I have a duty to Wildemar—”
“What about me?”
Once again, the words slip out unbidden. “Don’t you have a duty to me, too? I’m your son.”
For long seconds, his breathing is the only sound in the room. Finally, just when I’m convinced he’s going to hang up, he says, “I don’t know what’s happened to you, Garrett, but whatever it is, it needs to stop now.”
“You don’t know what’s happened to me? Really?”
“For God’s sake, you can only play the abduction card so long before it gets old.”
This time I’m the silent one as shock holds me immobile for longer than I care to admit. “I have never played the abduction card.” My voice is all but shaking with the rage I’ve tamped down for weeks. Months. “I’ve never asked you for anything except a chance to serve my country in the role that has always been mine. You’re the one hung up on the abduction. You’re the one that doesn’t want damaged goods anywhere near your precious throne.”
“You’ve figured that out and yet you go off and find this Lola woman, who is pretty much the definition of damaged goods. The illegitimate daughter of a Las Vegas showgirl? Seriously? Were there no local whores available?”
“Don’t ever talk about her like that again.” The words crackle with a rage I don’t even try to tamp down. “Going after me is one thing, but declaring open season on Lola? I won’t tolerate that. Not from you, not from anyone.”
“You can’t actually be serious about this woman.”
“How I feel about her is nobody’s business but mine.”
“It’s everybody’s business! When are you going to get that through your head? Have you seen the papers? The whole world is talking about your new romance with this—”
“Be very careful what word you use next,” I warn him.
“With this woman,” he says, after a moment. “Is that really how you want to be known? As the poor, lost little prince who fell for the first gold digger who came along?”
“You know nothing about Lola’s and my relationship, and I’m not going to stand here and listen to you pretend that you do.”
“I’m sure you think she’s all that you deserve after what happened, but I’ve already spoken to Felicity and her parents. She says she’ll take you back—”
“Take me back? Are you even listening to yourself? I’m not going back to Felicity and I’m not walking away from Lola just because you want me to.”
“I’m trying to look out for you.”
“You don’t give a shit about me. You never have.” My stomach is churning now, anger taking a razor blade to my hard-earned calm. There aren’t enough anxiety meds in the world to keep me chill in the face of this bullshit, no matter what Michael says. “All you care about is Wildemar and your legacy.”
