Home > Fallen Heir (The Royals #4)(52)

Fallen Heir (The Royals #4)(52)
Author: Erin Watt

I swallow a groan as I watch her go. What the hell is wrong with that girl? I get that I embarrassed her, but get over it already. Grow the hell up.

The irony of me ordering someone else to grow up doesn’t escape me.

With a tired breath, I pull out my phone and shoot a text to Hartley.

U ok this morning?

She responds right away.

No.

Guilt pricks at me. I lean against Felicity’s locker and type out another message.

I’m sorry, H. All my fault

This time there’s a long delay. I stare at the screen and will her to answer.

“East,” someone says.

I glance up to see Sawyer and Lauren drawing near. Seb’s not with them. “Hey,” I say absently. I look down at my phone. Still nothing. “I’m good. You?”

My little brother snickers. “Didn’t ask how you were, but I’m glad you’re good.”

“You’re going to be late for class,” Lauren says unhelpfully. “The first bell already rang.”

Screw the bell and screw class. Hartley still hasn’t answered my text. Why hasn’t she answered?

Is it because she agrees that the suspension is my fault?

It is, a little voice says.

Fuck, I know it is. That’s why I apologized to her. But…I kind of expected her to wave it off. To say, I don’t blame you, Easton. Felicity is the one who blah blah blah.

Instead, I’m getting radio silence.

“Sure, we’ll talk later,” I mutter to my brother. “See you at home.”

As I race off, I hear their bewildered voices behind me.

“Is he drunk?”

“I don’t think so?”

I leave the building through the side doors and sprint to the parking lot. I need to see Hartley and apologize in person. I need her to forgive me for dragging her into this Felicity mess. It’s not like I did it on purpose. She has to know that.

The drive to her neck of the woods is quick. But, just like yesterday, someone’s already beaten me there.

From the bottom of the stairs, I can see a man’s back clad in an expensive gray suit jacket. A head of salt-and-pepper hair.

“…kicked out of the number one prep school in the country. You’re a disgrace to the Wright name,” the man is saying, his words laden with disgust.

Hartley’s father.

Crap.

I edge toward the side of the staircase and hopefully out of view.

“I didn’t get kicked out,” is the surly reply. “It was a suspension.”

“For cheating!” he barks. “Cheating, Hartley. What in the hell is wrong with you? What kind of child did I raise?”

“I wasn’t cheating, Dad. A girl who hates me planted the test answers in my locker. I’m not a cheater.”

“Your headmaster is a member down at the club, did you know that? All my peers and colleagues know about your little scandal. That’s all I was asked about over breakfast this morning.”

“Who cares what a bunch of old men at the country club think?” Hartley sounds frustrated. “All that matters is the truth.”

“For the love of God! You and that goddamn word! Truth. Enough, Hartley!”

His sharp tone makes me flinch.

“Enough,” Mr. Wright repeats. “You’re going back to New York. Today. Do you understand me?”

“No!” she protests.

“Yes.” There’s a rustling sound, as if he’s reaching for something. “Here’s your ticket. Your flight leaves tonight at eleven.”

“No,” she says, but it’s with uncertainty this time.

“All right.” He pauses. “If you don’t leave, I’m pulling Dylan out of school and sending her in your place.”

“Why! Why do you always have to threaten her? She’s a baby, Dad.”

“No, she’s thirteen and she’s already being influenced by you.”

“She’s been on medication since she was eight. She’s fragile, and you know it. You can’t take her away from her family.”

He ignores that. “If you don’t leave Bayview, then we’ll protect Dylan by sending her out of state. It’s your choice.”

My hands fist by my sides.

“If I go…will you let her see me?” Hartley speaks so quietly, it’s hard for me to hear.

“If you get on the plane, you can spend time with her from here to the airport.”

What a shithead. The airport’s thirty minutes away.

“I…I’ll think about it.”

No, I want to yell. Don’t think about it. Fight him.

“I’ll pick you up at ten. Dylan and I will accompany you to the airport, where we will smile and wave while you go through security.”

“What if I don’t come with you?”

“I’ll be driving to the airport regardless,” Mr. Wright says in a clipped tone. “Someone will be getting on a plane tonight. It will either be you or your sister.” He pauses. “I trust you’ll make the right decision.”

Chapter 28

My plan is to wait ten minutes before knocking on Hartley’s door. I want to give her time to recover from her father’s visit and his brutal ultimatum. But only two minutes pass before her door swings open and Hartley stumbles outside.

If I wasn’t parked in front of the two-story house, Hartley might’ve walked into the middle of the street. Instead, she nearly bangs her nose against the side of my pickup.

“You look like you either drank too much or just got run over by a truck.” I reach out a steadying hand.

Surprisingly, she takes it. “Truck. Definitely run over by a truck.”

“Let’s go for a ride.” I don’t give her time to answer. In a few moves, I have her inside the cab and buckled up.

“Any special requests?” I ask once I’m in the driver’s seat.

“I don’t care. Just away from here.” Looking defeated, she rests her head against the window and closes her eyes.

“No problem.” I play it easy. Like my own insides aren’t tied up in knots. I hate this. I hate feeling like this. I hate seeing her like this.

I don’t ask her any questions and she doesn’t volunteer anything, so the entire drive is spent in total silence. Funny how the quiet can be deafening. What’d she say before? In the quiet, you can hear the heart beat? You can also hear it break. The air in the cab of my truck grows thick and heavy.

We end up at an old marina not far from the pier. I turn into the gravel lot and park the truck. When I glance over, I realize that Hartley’s crying. They are noiseless tears. Just endless drops streaming down her face. I swear when they land it’s loud as a clap of thunder.

It’s why I keep the engine running. I need something to mask those tears. She sits beside me, staring out the window. I wonder if she can even see through the veil of tears.

I try to lighten the mood. “Dad said that this used to be the hottest place in town back in the seventies. I told him I didn’t realize they had boats in the medieval days.”

She cracks a tiny smile.

“Come on, let’s walk by the water,” I suggest.

I help her out of the truck. The old marina is rundown. The cedar plank siding is washed gray by the sand and the salt of the ocean. There are only a couple of docks still above water. The rest are sunken or have broken off.

It’s an overcast morning to match our mood. Hartley looks stricken. I’m sick to my stomach. We’re like two survivors wandering around in a daze after an explosion. But hey, at least we’re together, right?

I take her hand. The moment I do, she stares at our interlaced fingers. Suspicious. “Why aren’t you at school?”

“Because I was worried about you.” Because I want you to forgive me.

As always, Hartley calls me on my bullshit. “Worried that I was mad at you, you mean.”

I swallow.

Her sharp gaze continues to pierce into me. “You were outside my house. Did you see my dad?”

“Yeah,” I admit.

“Did you hear what he said to me?”

I consider lying, but then decide against it. “Yeah.” I take her arm and we make our way close to the water. There’s no railing, just a rocky slope about six feet wide that leads to the water’s edge. “You’re not getting on that plane, though. Right?”

   
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