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“El, it’s front page news when a member of the royal family takes a shit.”
My heart sinks.
Parts of what happened those years before are public. People—especially people in the world I once belonged to—know that after my mother died, I was eventually sent off to reformatory school, which is bad enough.
No one—or at least very few people—know that I stabbed Noel. No one knows about that shitty, clearly slanted psychiatrist telling me I had rage and anger issues, or the mandatory drug rehab classes I had to take at Hemlock Estates, all because I was tricked into eating a pot brownie, once.
No one knows about the anti-psychosis drugs I took that first year, just to fall asleep at night without screaming.
But Harrys right. That’sallgoing to come out now.
“Hey, I’ve gotcha. And I’m here okay?” She says gently, hugging me close. “We’re going to figure this out.
“Thank—”
A fist knocks sharply at the front door to Harry’s flat, making me freeze instantly.
“Ugh, probably my neighbor begging for my fucking Netflix password again,” she mutters. “I kept telling her I don’t have a subscription, but then she caught me watching Bridgerton when I was chatting in my doorway with the landlord.”
She gets up from the couch. I shiver, wrenching the knot from my throat.
“It’s not your neighbor.”
She pauses, glancing back at me. I shake my head.
“It’s not.”
It’s him.
Even if he never once used it on my door at his house, I’d know that commanding, arrogantly confident knock anywhere.
Harry’s face turns livid.
“Get in the kitchen,” she whispers, turning to march over to a closet. She rummages around in it before turning back brandishing a heavy, mean looking cricket bat.
I swallow as I retreat into the kitchen, hiding in a little nook between her refrigerator and a minibar, close enough to the doorway into the living room to hear.
The door swings open.
“I’m well aware that you’re above the bloody law,” Harry spits. “So I won’t threaten to call them. But you’ve got three seconds to tell me why you’re here before I start swinging with this.”
Noel sighs, sounding bored.
“I’m here to speak with her.”
“Well too fucking bad. She’s not here.”
“Fetch her.”
“Eat a dick,” Harry fires back, making me grin. “I told you, she’s not here. So piss off, cunt.”
“I don’t suffer threats, Harriet.”
“Then suffer statements.”
I hear the slap of a cricket bat against Harry’s open palm as she hefts it.
“I’m pretty shit at hitting a cricket ball with it, but I’d wager I’d have a hard time missing that puffed up head of yours. And I amconfidentI could land a pretty good hit on your balls, yeah? Your three seconds are up. Fuck off, or they’ll be pulling splinters out of your taint for a year.”
