Page 14 of Scarred Crown

“Tick tock, Secretary Jensen. We leave in five minutes.” I stack my plates and head to the bathroom.

When I come out, I grab my water bottle, camera, and binoculars.

She shovels the crepe into her mouth. “This is delicious. I wish I had time to savor it.”

“Now you understand my dilemma when I realized you weren’t going to eat it.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s why you ate some of it.” She downs her tea and sets it on the table. “I did it.”

“Don’t be late.” I unzip the main door and slip out before she can ask me any questions. A jerk move? Sure. But I don’t want her here, and the longer I spend with her, the more I start remembering how much I used to want her everywhere.

Jules

Fourteen years ago

Nick peruses the cellar wine racks humming and hawing over which bottle to steal tonight. There are hundreds, possibly thousands, of bottles down here. A difficult choice for someone who knows wine and wants a particular flavor? Probably. Alcohol percentage is all I care about.

“Can you just pick one? Someone is going to catch us.” I’ve already landed in waist-deep manure with my mother once this week thanks to Nick taking one of the motorcycles for a joyride with me on the back. We weren’t even gone that long. But we didn’t notify security, at Nick’s insistence. I told my mother the ride was my idea, and we forgot about guards. A lame excuse. Sometimes I enjoy saying stupid things to see how quickly my mother’s head pops off and spins around.

“I’m just debating how expensive I should go.” Nick rubs his chin and strolls the rows of outrageously expensive wines.

“None of those.” I stride to the opposite end of the cellar and pull out the newest bottle, which is likely to be the cheapest.

“They’ll realize that one is missing, Jules.” He gives an exasperated sigh.

“And they’ll be pissed if they realize we stole a thousand-dollar bottle of white wine to drink while watching a meteor shower.”

“Ah, white? That’s what you’re after? Helps narrow it down.” He plucks a bottle from one of the slots.

“I don’t want to know how much that bottle costs. Easier to plead ignorance.” I hold up my hands and half turn away.

He takes a closer look at the label. “Only a couple hundred, likely.” He grins. “They’ll think it was pulled during one of their state dinners.”

A door opens somewhere upstairs, and Nick and I freeze.

“Oh, God. We’re going to get caught,” I mutter. “They’ll throw me in the dungeon.”

“We don’t do that anymore.” Nick teases. “Your mother, though…”

I slap his arm, and he rubs his bicep.

“No mother jokes tonight?” He tucks the bottle of wine under his arm. “I’ve got a corkscrew. We drinking out of the bottle, or do you need your sparkling water and a glass?”

“I’ll get the water and glass from the kitchen. Meet at the barn balcony?”

“Best seat on the island,” Nick agrees heading for the walkout exit to avoid going back into the main house. “Try not to get caught.”

“Shut up,” I hiss in a fierce whisper. Of the two of us, I always end up spotted by someone whenever we’re scheming. I creep up the stairs, avoiding all the spots on the wooden stairs that creak. At the top, I crack the door and listen for anyone in the kitchen. Most of the staff should be gone by now.

I breathe a sigh of relief at the silence and prop the door open just enough to squeeze through. Stupid thing gives a loud squeak if you open it too far. Light from the clear starry sky streams through the kitchen windows bathing the excessive space in moonlight.

“Stealing from us again?” Alex comments from behind me.

I jump, and my heart kicks and then races before I whirl on him. “No! No. I would never.”

“Just decided to go for a walk in the wine cellar. Does your mother know?” He raises his eyebrows and pops a piece of orange into his mouth.

“Why are you eating oranges in the dark like a creep?” I circle the island and take out the wine glasses from the cupboard and the bottles of sparkling water from the fridge. Alex is the least of my worries. If I don’t get to the barn in good time, Nick will be annoyed at my lateness. Did it really take twenty minutes to get two glasses and some water? His tone will be tinged with annoyance. I walk a fine line with my tardiness.