Court Kept (Court High 3)

Polished marble and sparkling countertops graced my eyes, a fruit display in the center of the kitchen island. I wasn’t able to observe them long, Jax guiding me along the way. He spun a set of keys on his finger as he walked, and focusing on that, I nearly screamed when a cat the size of a mini tiger skated past my leg.

I had to cover my mouth and everything, a freaking jungle cat with a long tail and spots just casually walking down the hallway.

Jax looked at me over his shoulder, smirking when he noticed yet another holdup. He hunkered down to that big ole animal and ran his hand down its back. The thing appreciated it, purring before falling over. Jax scratched behind its ears. “Don’t let Dinah intimidate you. She’s a big softy.”

She was big and I guess maybe soft like he said. She didn’t even bite at him, clearly familiar with him as she leaned into his touch. He stood. “Let me go see what the holdup is. I texted him we’re here. Don’t know what’s keeping him.”

I figured that’d been who he texted in the kitchen, and nodding, I chose to stare at the walls while he went somewhere else in the house. I didn’t wander far, fearing I’d get lost, and in any sense, the photos in the hall stole my attention anyway.

There were so many, lots of Royal through the years. There were some of him as a little kid, a small boy with sandy blond hair and always seemed to have some type of athletic gear in his hands. He played many sports over his various ages, football, lacrosse of course, and soccer. He even skied, and in that photo, he was with a few other people. One I immediately recognized as his dad. He looked the same, his hand on top of Royal’s head. That’s how young Royal was in the picture.

I stepped up, studying the other two people, a young girl not blond but red. She was on a set of skis with polls in her hands, grinning at the camera and slightly taller than Royal. Behind her was a woman, also redheaded and with the most gorgeous smile. She hugged both the girl and Royal, a pair of ski goggles on her face. The whole family stood in front of a snowy backdrop, the note Vale, Colorado stamped in the corner and with a year, a year a long time ago.

I ventured back, the wide expanse of hal

lway filled with pictures of the girl and the woman with the beautiful smile. They always were together and with Royal, the three of them peas in a pod. Royal’s dad was in some of the photos, but they were mostly just the three of them. The majority of them consisted of Royal and the young girl from the baby stage to around eight or nine. The girl was clearly older, Royal a year or two behind in every photo. I noticed eventually, though, Royal’s photos started to age. He got older, by himself, and the photos of the girl and the woman stopped. It was like they were frozen in time while Royal continued on, by himself through the ages.

“Why are you here, December?”

Royal behind me and Jax behind him when I turned. The pair stood in the hallway, both brooding, but Royal could have taken the award. He wasn’t happy, wearing a robe and with wet hair. I guess that’d been where he was when Jax texted.

Royal frowned. “Why is Jax saying you’re asking about Paige?”

Maybe because I was and started to move when he stalked toward me. His robe silk, it parted off him with his heavy strides.

That’s when I saw the bruises.

They chased completely up his right side, a large surface area across his ribs and abs. He even had a few punches to the chest, and I honestly hadn’t believed the fight with Ramses had been that bad. It wasn’t that bad. I’d been there. The robe settled the moment he crossed the hallway, but by the time that happened, I was taking inventory of his face. Ramses had gotten him on the cheek that day at school, but that was it.

Royal had two black eyes now, the left side even worse than the right, and the new cut on his lip wasn’t bleeding but it was there. He honest to God looked like he’d been in a car accident.

He honestly looked like someone beat the shit out of him.

Someone obviously had, and for whatever reason, I grabbed his robe. I needed to see the damage. I needed to see what someone had done to him.

“December,” he warned, but I noticed he didn’t stop me. He let me look, the garment falling off his muscled shoulder. He had a bruise there too.

“Your dad?” I questioned, knowing the truth when I covered it.

He shrugged. “Old man doesn’t like fighting.”

How ironic since he hit his son, and in the distance, Jax lounged against the wall. His eyes averted, but he was completed privy to this conversation.

“You didn’t come here to ask me about my dad,” Royal said, forcing me to look directly at him. He scanned me, my eyes, my mouth, and I wanted to push him. I wanted to shove him for affecting me and complicating my feelings. I wanted to yell at him, yell at him so bad, but when he looked like this? Beat up like this? Royal’s nostrils flared. “You came to talk to me.”

I did, but staring into two black eyes rattled my nerve. It brought me pain, and I hated it. I wanted to hate him, but he made it so goddamn hard. I blinked over cloudy eyes. “I did come to talk to you.”

“So talk.” He approached, a jump in his throat as he looked at me again. He stared all over my face, as if memorizing every flaw and every freckle. As if seeing me for me. “Say what you have to say.”

I swallowed, finding I couldn’t, and in those moments, he walked away, passing Jax. He was done with this conversation. He was done letting me try to talk, and I lost my window.

“I just need to know one thing.”

He stopped, my voice causing him to turn back and peer over his shoulder. I didn’t waste the opportunity this time, tears in my eyes as I approached him. I was glad my vision was cloudy and couldn’t see him well. What I had to say scared the ever-living shit out of me, and I didn’t know if I could face him full on.

“Is what happened that night,” I started, swallowing and blinking down tears. “Is what happened that night with Paige at Route 80 something she chose? No one made her. No one had it out for her. It was something she chose to do?”

Because at the end of the day it was a choice, the reality of which ripped me apart. That my sister chose to be out there. That she made a choice…