Dirty Wicked Prince (Court Legacy 1)

This should have been just my burden.

I hadn’t been able to convince my friends of that, so they helped, and now, they were strained just like me.

You’re such a fuckup.

I kept fucking up.

Blinking, I patted Thatcher’s shoulder. “You need to get out of here. Go home early. Get something to eat. Sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” he gritted and went back to his searching. “I’ll find her, D.” He faced me. “I won’t give up. I promise.”

My stomach twisted.

Because I knew he wouldn’t. My friends continued to labor over something only I felt personally responsible for. My guilt ran completely heavy, but I let my buddy stay in the lab. This was his free period, so he could spend it how he wished.

I stayed with him as long as I could until I had to go to class, and on my way out of the school that day, I found him still sitting in here. Wells had joined him. In our group text, I knew they both planned to do some late research tonight. Wolf was even going to join them after an art thing he couldn’t get out of. We all had keys to the school, and the coverage of the academy was a nice way to keep our parents from asking questions.

I left my friends that night, but only because I had to go home and check on my mom.

She was where I’d left her.

I found her in the parlor, sipping tea and staring out the window. She’d returned to work after everything, but work was all she’d allowed herself to do these days. As soon as she came home, she was right back here. Last to leave, first to show up.

She told me it was just because she needed the quiet, and though I never bothered her, I did check on her. She’d kick my ass if I didn’t, claiming she always wanted to see my face.

“Hey, Mom.” I put my arms around her, and she smiled, twisting in her seat to hug me. My mom had a smile like the light, like the daytime and sunshine daisies.

It reminded me so much of Charlie’s smile it killed my fucking insides. Charlie was her half brother. The pair of them looked so much alike despite having different moms. Mom had obviously taken Charlie’s passing pretty hard. Especially since she’d lost a sister before that. It was a long time ago and before I was born. I’d never met my aunt Paige, but she’d been another casualty to this town. She’d been killed, murdered.

It was like my family was cursed. It was a curse I’d never seen due to privilege and my own self-involved shit. Before Charlie and my grandparents passing before that, I’d never really experienced loss. At least not like my mom and my dad had.

Mom hugged me tight. “Hey, baby.”

She just held me there craned over her, held me for so long. Eventually, I stopped paying attention to the time and took a seat beside her. I texted my buddies that night.

Me: Mom’s having a bad day. I can’t make it.

She was the only one I’d make the sacrifice for. She needed me.

All the guys got back to me that the absence was fine, but it wasn’t. It ripped me raw apart. It killed me she was this way.

Because of you.

The thoughts chilled me, each moment of every damn day. I stayed with my mother in silence until eventually, I gave her the space she liked. She’d never tell me. I always had to gauge that on my own.

She twisted in her chair. “Can you give the mail to your dad? It’s on the table there.”

We always ended the same way. I came in, gave her a hug and sat with her, then she asked me to bring the mail to my dad. I’d do that, then normally do more searching with the guys, but it’d gotten late tonight.

I nodded, telling my mom I loved her before I left the room. She spent evenings with my dad, quiet dinners during which he held her and told her everything would be okay. I didn’t always make the dinner with this constant searching for Mayberry, but I’d come in one night and saw that was what my parents had been doing. My dad was my mother’s rock.

And she was his.

I’d seen that on more than one occasion too. There were many secrets in this house. My dad was never vocal about the things that sometimes plagued him, but I’d caught my mother consoling him on more than one occasion. My dad wore his heart in a steel vise, and only my mother had the key.

“Dad.” I knocked before I came into his office, mail in hand. Dad was over by the fireplace, a brandy in his hand. “Mom asked me to give you the mail.”

I did, coming over and giving it to him. He started to filter through it, asking about my day. We did this banter too after Charlie passed. My dad was always busy, but it was like time had stopped after Charlie died. Like we’d all realized how truly fragile life could be.