Page 57 of Royal Havoc

“I’m sick. Please take me to the doc,” I beg, standing in the middle of my room, arms extended to both sides.

He nods, and I turn quickly before rushing to the door as he gives the all-clear. He follows me down the hall when I bypass my shoes. I’m happy to lead the way; too obsessed with getting the answers I want to care about anything else.

I bust through Bolton’s door without bothering to knock. He’s sitting in the comfy chair, reading like I knew he would be.

“Doctor, I’m sorry. She said she’s sick,” Dan apologizes nervously.

Bolton’s beady eyes slide to Dan. “It’s fine,” he assures him, motioning for me to sit on the sofa. “I’ll call when we’re finished,” he informs Dan, laying his book on the small end table beside him.

After we’re alone behind closed doors. “Where did he take Brock?”

Bolton relaxes. “I can’t discuss another patient —”

Scooting to the edge of the cushion. “Tell me now,” I order hatefully, tugging my sleeves over my palms to protect them from my nails.

Bolton’s eyes narrow a fraction while he uncrosses his legs. “His business is private. You’ll need to ask him.”

“He’s mine,” I sneer evilly.

Bolton smiles, relaxing again. “He’s a person. A man, actually. Sometimes men have needs,” he tells me thoughtfully, crossing his legs.

Rage douses my insides with flames as I try to put together what he’s said. Lost in an inferno, begging the wickedness not to turn me to ash.

Bolton tilts his head, watching me with sharp eyes. “You’re getting older. Your body’s changing. It’s okay for girls to have needs —”

Darting to my feet. “Don’t act like a father now. I’m not here to havethetalk,” I hiss, forcing the rage down my throat to keep my voice calm.

Oops, guess the secret’s out. My great uncle Bolton was nice enough to adopt me when my parents threw me away. Gramps was generous enough to make a special trip to his asylum, delivering the papers to his brother personally to sign, which is why Mom needs to stay away. She can’t take back what was done years ago.

Since I’m spilling secrets anyway… Bolton usually lets me have my way, like moving across from B. And other small things, such as letting me have a special key to rooms -I’ve never used.Also, he doesn’t make me follow a stupid schedule like everyone else. Most recently, he’s started testing me by letting me go outside for a few minutes each day.

I think he wants to see if I’m going to run.

“I’m sure you’re curious. I’ll answer any questions you have. You won’t get in trouble,” he assures me patiently.

His fatherly tone makes me cringe like it does every time he uses it. My rage suddenly tucks itself away nice and neat, allowing me to settle a little.

Fighting off the embarrassment I feel heating my cheeks. “I want permission to go to B’s room.”

He ponders my question before standing, lacing his hands behind his back. Slowly, he walks to the window, peering into the darkness. “I have to leave for a little while tonight. If you hurt him —”

“I won’t. Promise,” I counter quickly.

He turns to meet my stare. “The truth will make you angry, princess.”

“I promise,” I repeat.

He sighs heavily. “I’ve been keeping you two apart for years,” he admits tiredly.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Hmmm,” he huffs. “But will he?” he asks aloud before lifting the phone on his desk. “Please escort Tulip to Brock’s room.”

thirty-one

Thoughts Not Thoughting

Onyx: 2024

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