Page 50 of Cross Me

I shook off his gentle grip, my hand clenching into a fist. There were a thousand reasons for me to turn and walk out of here right now. Some felt more important than others. My wife, for one, wouldn’t be pleased if my picture showed up on The Guardian’s front page. Neither would Parliament. It was a mark of my true priorities that Clara’s anger was more terrifying than my government’s. A fight was the last thing the monarchy needed at the moment. I took a step forward anyway. I was tired of being chained by protocol and politics.

“No way, poor boy.” Brex hauled me back, handing me off to Norris and jumping into my place as soon as he had a firmer hold on me.

He shouldn’t be involved either, but that didn’t stop him. He was in the fray before Norris had me out the door. At soon as we stepped—or rather Norris dragged us—into the cool, night air, I jerked away. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You could have fooled me,” Norris grumbled. He brushed a few wrinkles from his jacket, not bothering to hide his disappointment.

So Norris was disappointed in me. What was new? That seemed to be his perpetual state of being these days. There was a time when our relationship had felt like that of a father and son. Or what I thought that relationship should be like. Lately, it felt too much like my relationship with my true father. How could I explain to Norris that the responsibility, the endless politics, the constant scrutiny was drowning me? Or that when it came to what mattered most I was powerless to act?

“I wouldn’t have hit anyone,” I said, hoping that it was true while wishing I could hit someone. One person in particular.

Brex appeared, nursing bloody knuckles and not bothering to hide how he felt about the situation. “How are we going to explain why you got involved with this?”

“I wasn’t involved,” I exploded.

“Simply being there involved you,” Brex shot back, taking a step closer to me. “I knew this was a bad idea. What happens around you…”

“I’m in charge of the fucking country. There is no separation between man and state. Am I just supposed to sit at home on a throne and not get involved?”

“No one is saying that.” Norris was infuriatingly calm, as usual.

“Maybe,” Brex ignored him, “if it means you can keep your hands to yourself.”

“When did everyone else get to call the shots?”

“When you stopped being able to,” Brex said.

My fist flew before Norris could step between us. If Brex had any reservations about me getting into a fight, he forgot them. Knuckles made hard contact with my jaw with a loud crack. Within seconds we were on the ground. I didn’t know if I’d brought him down or if it was the other way around. For the moment, we were both giving it everything we had. A fist jabbed my kidneys and I groaned, shoving Brex off and leaping on top of him.

We were too much for Norris to take on alone. This would probably be the last time I was allowed out without a full security compliment. He seemed to take a while to break us up. He probably wished he could be the one pounding my head into the pavement. In the end, Norris got hold of me and someone else pulled Brex away. We glared at each other. Blood leaked from a cut into my eye and I wiped it away, turning my attention to the other party.

Anderson fucking Stone. My knight in shining armour. I had no idea why he’d stepped in. This was what he wanted—to prove to Clara that I was a fuck up.

“Everything okay?” Anders asked. He had pulled Brex off while Norris barely contained me. His own nose was bleeding, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Brilliant,” I grunted, pulling free of Norris. My shirt was covered in dirt, I’d just been caught brawling with my friend, and I didn’t give one fuck. I levelled a glare at Anders. This had started with him. If he’d had the decency to live a nice quiet life, none of us would be here now. Instead, he’d unwittingly placed himself into the spotlight.

“We should be going,” Norris urged in a low voice.

“What is your problem?” Anders asked.

Brex laughed, spitting a wad of bloody saliva on the dirt. He knew exactly what my problem was.

“You.” I growled at him.

“You should get him out of here,” Anderson said, taking a step away. “Before someone sees.”

Hate rolled through me. He didn’t get to play at being in charge. “You don’t presume to order me around!”

“Maybe someone should.” Anderson moved closer to me, getting in my face. Neither Brex nor Norris tried to stop him. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement. Anders might not know he was my brother, but he was a member of the royal family. Whatever was about to go down, they shouldn’t intercede in a family matter.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“You order them around. You order Clara around. It might do you good to be on the receiving end.”

“Do you think you know her? Because whatever fantasy you’ve concocted in your head. She is my wife. She belongs to me.”

“Belongs?” he repeated with wide eyes. “I shouldn’t expect any better from someone like you. But Christ, do you hear yourself?”