Page 105 of War and his Queen

Tonight can go fuck itself. All I want is my best friend, my bed, and food.

With a pounding head of dread and a crippling weight of fatigue, I drag myself back through the party with the direction of my bedroom in mind.

My feet hit the main foyer and I find myself fixed on the family photos and portraits that scatter the walls leading up the staircase.

My blood turns cold when I land on one of Tillie, Nate, War, and River.

I rest against the rail, kicking off my shoes while lifting the bottle to my lips. If I’m going to bed, I’ll go shit-faced. Before I can stop myself, my finger traces the glass. I remember this trip like it was yesterday. I would have been nine or ten. It was around the time IthoughtI had a simple crush on my brother’s best friend. Turns out it wasn’t a crush. It was a fucking stampede of bad choices, and there was no stopping it once it started.

“Amica, go to bed.” Dad’s voice travels down from the top of the stairs.

I point to him with the hand holding the bottle. “He’s worse than Uncle Nate, isn’t he?”

His palm rests over his abs as his eyes shift to the photo. “He’s who he is,Amica. You can accept it or leave it. Come on.”

I stagger my way up the steps.Leave it.The lie hovers in my head for a nanosecond.

Dad catches my body when I skip a step, a gentle growl vibrating off him. “Baby girl. Bed.”

I pat him gently over the tattoo on his chest in passing. “I don’t think I can.”

As soon as my bedroom door swings open, my muscles ease. She’s here. Of course she is.

“Girl…” Evie’s working moisturizer over her face, already buttoned up in satin pajamas with two burgers in the space that separates us. I don’t have to look at my bedside table to know that she would have already put Advil and water there. “Your drunk posting tonight may just go down in history.”

“It was to my close friends list.” I roll my eyes, pulling back the fluffy cotton sheets.

Evie glares at me, pausing her skincare. She’s left her hair out in soft waves that flow down the curve of her back. “You are not getting into bed without washing away your sins.” She lifts a single curved brow. “Shower. Now. And no, I’m not helping you.”

The bottle slips from my fingers when I belly flop onto the mattress. “I hate him.”

“Yeah, well, maybe give your vagina the memo because it seemed to miss it.”

I push to roll onto my back, but the room spins around me. “Turn off the lights.”

“Go to sleep.”

“It hurts…”

War

The doorto the Rolls Royce slamming closed echoes through the eerily silent street. Perdita isn’t exactly bright lights and laughter, but it’s never like this. The destruction of whatever has happened tonight is visible in the details.

Katsia’s door closes on the other side of the car as I trace the road of Main Street. “What the fuck is going on?” Splintered shop glass windows, nests of fires, and the outline of half a dozen bodies scattered around the town, facedown in their own blood.

“They came in quick.” She turns her whole body to me. “But you know us. We’re quicker.”

“The bodies?” Perdita was supposed to be a safe place for our people. If they’re here, they were and always have been under our protection. The fact that someone has fucked with that is big. If we lose people here, it makes us look weak. They’ll want retribution. I’ll make sure they get it.

“Not ours. We lost a couple, but the Lost Boys fought them off and killed many.” She gestures out to the road. “Clearly. Sorry about dragging you here. I didn’t mean to… interrupt whatever was happening.”

My jaw tenses. “It’s literally your responsibility to do what you did. Don’t fucking apologize. Forget all that.”

I hate that she and I have history, and I especially hate that it’s not the kind I’d usually have…

“Do you think our mothers will ever get on?” Katsia asks as we both make our way down to the docks. No one knows where the fuck the old Katsia found this one. She was island born. That was all that mattered. That was their business and we stayed out of it—until we didn’t.

“We’re thirteen. I think if they were going to, they would have by now. I think it’s safe to say that their hateful friendship isn’t going anywhere.” I don’t bother to tell her that it most definitely has to do with my mom. I’m also pretty sure my fucking dad had double dipped.

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