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I need to snap out of whatever weird headspace I’m in before I destroy my entire life. I’m an assassin, and if I don’t start acting like it, I’ll be the one with a bullet between my eyes...
CHAPTER6
SEB
The holding cell has a sink, toilet, and uncomfortable rock-hard bed—a far cry from my usual surroundings. I’ve not been able to sit still and haven’t washed the blood from my knuckles yet. I can’t think straight in a space this small.
Suddenly, the door opens, and a man with no chin and an ill-fitting shirt fills the entire frame. The officer looks down his nose at me like he wants to spit at my feet. I don’t blame him. I have the same visceral reaction when seeing other rich men acting like arseholes.
“You’re free to go,” he grunts.
I’ve been held for less than an hour. I hate my toxic family and their crippling expectations, but admittedly, there are some perks to being royal and having a lawyer on retainer.
I straighten the collar of my blood and dirt-streaked white shirt. My entire body aches, and my limbs feel three times heavier. Red rings circle my wrists from the handcuffs. I didn’t notice they were fastened so tightly because Rose is all that’s occupying my thoughts. She’s all I see.
“Thanks, officer,” I mumble.
He scowls in reply and nudges his head, gesturing for me to follow. He leads me through the bleak corridors of the police station. Behind other doors, prisoners yell and swear. Most of them are rowdy drunks.
At the front desk, my brother is standing ramrod-straight. His nose is scrunched up like he’s smelling something unpleasant. Unlike mine, his navy suit has remained almost immaculate despite escaping the blaze. That’s typical of Ralph; he never wants to get his hands dirty.
“There you are,” he says, marching over to me. “Mother is furious.”
I laugh in his face. When the laughter comes, I can’t stop it. It grows hysterical, echoing and drawing attention to us. The nearby receptionist shifts uncomfortably in her seat and a nearby officer’s hand jumps to his baton.
“What’re you doing?” Ralph hisses. Red blotches appear over his neck, giving him a Dalmatian-like complexion. “Pull yourself together, Sebastian! If Mother hears about—”
“Do you honestly think I care about what Mother thinks?” I interrupt.
I step closer, and Ralph winces. If I’m not afraid of taking on the police, think of what damage I could do to Mummy’s golden boy.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you.” He uses the hoity-toity tone he reserves for functions when he meets people less fortunate than himself. “Do you need professional help?” He swallows hard. “Do we need to talk about rehab?”
“Rehab?” That sets my laughter off again. A tear slides down my face, and I wipe it away with my grubby finger before composing myself. My face returns to a deadpan expression. “There’s nothing wrong with me, but I’m not the one who needs help.” I look him up and down. “You and the family are more bothered about me making a scene than the fact people died tonight. God forbid our precious fucking family comes under scrutiny! Who cares if they splash our names over the tabloids? Some things are more important than the institution.”
He gasps as if I’ve told him Buckingham Palace will be turned into the Playboy Mansion. His expression darkens. He grabs my arm in a vice-like grip and drags me across to the exit, smiling apologetically over his shoulder to the staff, who are watching our altercation curiously. The chilly breeze stings my open wounds and ripples through my clothes to spread the smell of smoke that still clings to them.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Ralph demands. “If people heard you talking like that, they could—”
“They could, what?” I spit. “Who cares what they think?”
“You need to think of the family,” he says. “Don’t you understand how much time we’re going to have to spend on damage control? Pictures of you could be front-page news tomorrow.”
“So?” I say. “If me getting arrested is more important than people dying, then I question the country we live in.”
For a second, I thought I saw a flicker of understanding stir behind his eyes. As the oldest brother, Ralph faced more pressure than most, but he was always keen to fulfil his responsibilities. That look vanishes and gives way to fury.
“Never let anyone else hear you say that,” he snarls. “You may not want this life, but you have no choice.”
“I’m not like you,” I say. “I’m not a cog in this fucking machine. Can’t you see how wrong this is? People died.”
“And you are royal.” His eyes narrow. “You have a duty to this country.”
“I’m not the next in the line for the throne!” I say. “And whatever happens, you can’t drain the blood from my fucking veins, no matter how much Mother wants to.”
“You can’t change who you are, Sebastian.”
I ignore him and ask about what’s really on my mind. “Have you heard from Rose?”
