Page 30 of Royal Beast
“She’s been through a lot,” he finally says, his voice low and thoughtful. “Maybe it’s time you give her some space. Let her process it in her own way.”
I glance down, considering his words.
Space.
That’s the last thing I want to give her, but maybe it’s exactly what she needs. I play with the idea, turning it over in my mind. If I give her space, maybe she’ll have time to remember why she felt safe with me in the first place.
Finn takes a slow sip of his beer, eyes fixed somewhere beyond me, as though his mind is elsewhere too. “I had a conversation just like this once before…” he says, trailing off for a moment as he gathers his thoughts. “Your father came to talk to me. You know that your parents were even more fiery than you are with this Darcy girl.” He smiles briefly but it fades away.“Lachlan Senior loved that woman hard. But Brigit resented the tight leash he kept her on.”
I stiffen, knowing exactly where this is going but unable to stop him. Finn’s one of the few who’ll ever talk to me about my mother. Everyone else treads on eggshells, as if the very mention of her might set me off. Maybe they’re right.
“Brigit was a free spirit,” Finn continues, rubbing a rough hand over his chin. “And Lachlan… he never could let her breathe. Always shadowing her, watching over her like a hawk.” He shakes his head, his gaze darkening. “Thought he was protecting her, keeping her safe. But all that did was make her feel caged.”
I swallow hard, not sure I want to hear more but too restless to leave it at that. “What happened?” I ask, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from him.
“I told him to give her space but he refused to listen. So she ran,” Finn finishes, his tone flat.
Finn’s eyes meet mine, no hint of apology in them. “It wasn’t because she didn’t care or love you kids. She just couldn’t take the all-consuming obsession anymore. She thought the lot of you would be better off without her and she left to get away from him.”
The words dig into me, pecking at old wounds I thought had long since healed. For years, I resented her for leaving. Part of me still does. But the image Finn’s painted of my father is all too familiar. I've been trying to keep Darcy close, to keep her safe, but have I been doing exactly what drove my mother away?
I take a slow drink, trying to steady myself. “So you’re saying I should let Darcy go? Just give her space and hope she comes back?”
Finn tilts his head, studying me with that familiar, piercing look. "Space doesn’t mean letting go, kid. It means trusting she’llcome back to you when she’s ready. That you’re not going to control her every movement, you’re not caging her away.”
I sit there in silence, letting the weight of Finn’s words settle in my chest. I’ve always vowed to be nothing like my father, yet here I am, clinging to control. And for the first time, I’m not sure if my anger with my mother was fair. If she left for her own sanity, then maybe I can understand.
But something else tugs at me. Darcy ran and took Rose with her and ended up in danger. I don’t know if I have it in me to watch her run headfirst into a bad situation again.
I shake my head, setting my empty glass down with more force than I meant to. My voice hardens. “You don’t get it, Finn. If I give Darcy too much space, she’s bound to land herself in trouble again. She’s just like her father, completely reckless.”
I catch the skeptical look Finn gives me and my jaw tightens. “You don’t know her like I do. The woman is stubborn as hell, and I know she can handle things on her own, but with everything going on with the Russians, I have to be the one to keep her safe right now.”
Finn raises a brow, sighing. “Or you could try trusting her instincts,” he suggests, shaking his head. “Sure, she’s stubborn, but so are you, Kellan. You keep treating her like she’s fragile, she’ll only fight harder to prove you wrong.”
I don’t answer, reaching instead for my wallet. Finn just sighs as I get up, his gaze sharp but resigned, like he’s seen this all play out before. Maybe he has. But I’m not backing down, not on this.
The penthouse is silent when I get back, but it doesn’t take long to find Darcy. She’s in the kitchen, her arms crossed over her chest as she turns to face me. The flicker of annoyance in her eyes tells me she’s already bracing for the argument she knows is coming.
“Where have you been?” she asks, and there’s an edge in her voice that sets me off immediately.
“Does it matter?” I snap back, stepping closer. “You’ve been avoiding me for days, Darcy. I had to take a walk and clear my head after all the running you’ve been doing.”
She glares, crossing her arms tighter. “Running? Is that what you think this is? I’m not running, Kellan. I’m trying to get some distance so I can actually breathe.”
“Yeah, distance. Right,” I scoff. “Distance so you can go off and get yourself into trouble again? Like at the mall?”
Her eyes flash. “You think that’s what I wanted to happen? You think I walked into Russian territory for fun? I was trying to getawayfrom you, for fuck’s sake, Kellan!”
I narrow my eyes, stepping forward. “You were reckless is what you were,” I say, my voice low and tight. “I know you don’t appreciate it, but you came to me for protection, and that’s my job as your husband, to protect you. Both of you.”
Darcy shakes her head, anger simmering just below the surface. “Ha. Protect me? Or control me? Because you seem to think they’re the same thing.”
I step forward once more, closing the distance between us. I have her backed up against the kitchen wall now, and a memory surfaces of another moment like this, except it was heated in a different way. “If you want to call it control, fine. I’ll be the big, bad, scary monster if it means keeping you safe, Darcy.”
She raises her hands, pushing against my chest. “Because you think I can’t handle myself?” she demands. “Or is it because you’re so damn afraid to let go that you can’t stand the idea of me making my own choices?”
My jaw clenches, frustration mixing with anger. “You’re missing the point, Darcy.”
