Page 91 of Merciless Prince
“Of course she is!” Derrick said, throwing his hands up. “She’s anactress, man! It’s literally her job to lie and fake emotions! She probably tore the panties herself and scratched her own leg to make her story look realistic, because she knew how fucked she was when I ran out of here spraying blood everywhere.”
Killian’s lips flattened, and he looked over at me again.
A lump lodged in my throat. “He’s lying,” I choked out, tears rolling down my cheeks.
Derrick scoffed and rolled his eyes. “How many times has she lied to you so far?” he said, folding his arms. “Think about that, man. How many fucking times?”
Killian’s face hardened then, and I knew he’d made up his mind. In his eyes, I was a habitual liar. A scheming actress. The kind of girl who’d tear her own panties and falsely accuse a man of forcing himself on her.
“Get dressed and put your shoes on,” he said to me in a cold, emotionless tone.
A fresh set of tears brimmed in my eyes. “Killian, please just—”
He cut me off, lifting a palm. “Do it now,” he said through clenched teeth. With that, he swept out of the room. Derrick smirked at me and followed him.
A knot tightened in my stomach as I changed my underwear and put on a clean sweatshirt and jeans. I found the shoes Killian had fetched from my dorm, put them on, and headed for the door. It was unlocked now, but I knew the guys were standing right outside waiting for me, so there was no way I could escape.
I swallowed hard and stepped out, pulse pounding with trepidation. Killian looked down at me, expression flat and impassive. “Walk with us,” he said. “Don’t try anything stupid.”
It was mid-afternoon, so the castle was bustling with guests and staff members, but most of them were focused on their own little bubbles and barely paid us a lick of attention. A couple of people in the downstairs lobby gave me sideways glances, but I knew it wasn’t because they suspected that I was a secret prisoner. They just recognized me from my live fail on the Saturday Night Show.
I lowered my eyes to the marble-tiled floor and let out a sigh, remembering when the fallout from the SNS incident was the worst thing going on in my life.
How things had changed.
Killian led me through a side exit on the bottom floor and directed me toward a small parking lot on the western side of the castle. The sky was overcast and spitting icy rain, making my teeth chatter as shivers raced up and down my spine.
When we reached a sleek black car on the edge of the lot, Derrick opened the back door and roughly pushed me inside. I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge to snap at him, knowing I’d only make the situation worse.
Killian took the driver’s seat and steered the car away from the castle, heading for the stone bridge that connected the island to the mainland. Once we’d crossed it, we turned north, driving in silence.
I finally dared to speak up once we’d made it all the way to Poughkeepsie. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” Killian replied. Derrick had the sun visor down on the passenger side, and I could see his smug expression in the mirror.
My hands curled into tight fists on my lap. I wanted to sink my teeth into his neck again, only this time I’d make sure to tear his carotid so he stood no chance of survival.
About an hour later, Killian turned left onto a bridge that spanned the Hudson. Then he swung a right and headed onto a winding road that led into a mountainous area.
Winter had arrived early in this part of the state. The temperature was several degrees lower than where we’d come from, and everything was dusted with snow.
“Jesus, look at that,” Derrick said, echoing my thoughts as he looked outside. “How is it already snowing up here?”
“Climate change, I guess. It’s been coming earlier and earlier every year for the last decade,” Killian said. “We got a twenty-seven inch dump at the lodge yesterday. Connor thinks it’ll be ready for skiing in a couple of weeks if it keeps up.”
“Wow. Nice.”
The car slowed and turned onto a winding road. There was a sign at the intersection, but I missed what it said.
A few minutes later, we crested a hill. A behemoth of a building appeared in the distance; three stories tall with massive windows and a steeply-pitched roof.
As we drew closer, I realized it was probably the ski lodge Killian mentioned earlier. The exterior walls were made from timber and stacked logs, and there were multiple decks on every level. Behind it, steep mountain slopes loomed against the cloudy sky. To the left of that lay a sprawling expanse of flat land which bordered a thick forest. The golden-yellow, scarlet, and burnt sienna leaves were a riot of color against the snow-blanketed ground.
Killian pulled into the driveway and stopped right outside the lodge. “Keep an eye on her,” he said to Derrick as he exited the car. A hard lump of fear appeared in my throat as I watched him trudge up to the building and disappear around a corner.
Derrick turned to look at me from the passenger seat. “You’re fucked now,” he said with a twisted little smirk, cocking his head to one side. “Or do you think he brought you up here for a nice little ski trip?”
“Fuck you,” I muttered. I scooted over to the other side of the back seat and peered up at the lodge, hoping to spot someone who could see me waving or hear me screaming for help.
