Ruthless Kings (Windsor Academy 2)

“Thank you.”

I release a heavy sigh as she leaves the room.

"Can I get you anything?" Nurse Marika asks. "They'll be serving lunch in about an hour, but I can grab you a snack if you'd like."

I totally forgot she was here, so I jump a little when she speaks. “Uh...no, I’m okay. Thank you. I think I’d just like to nap.”

I notice the surfboard print on her scrubs when she pauses in the doorway. “I’m sorry if this is overstepping, but the gentleman that was here yesterday hasn’t left the hospital once. His friends have been in and out, but he’s been here the whole time. He seems really worried about you—he’s constantly asking if you’re allowing visitors yet.”

"Thanks for letting me know." I sigh. "I still don't want any visitors, though."

Marika nods. “Of course.”

I stare at the ceiling as she leaves the room. Why in the hell do I feel guilty right now? So what if Kingston has been here for over forty-eight hours? I can barely walk to the bathroom that’s five feet away. Under the circumstances, I think it’s perfectly reasonable to not want anyone around me while I’m so defenseless. Kingston can hang around the hospital all he wants, but I’m not letting him back in my room.

“A YOUNG LADY NAMED Ainsley brought this by while you were napping.” My nurse sets my cell phone on the bedside table and my overnight bag on the built-in bench. “She thought you might need them.”

I pick up my phone, smiling at Ainsley's thoughtfulness. All of my things, including my phone, were back at the lake house. I was dreading trying to make arrangements to collect them. I could do without the clothes, but there's one number in my contacts that I don't have memorized and really need. Surprisingly, there's only one text notification, and of course, it's from Kingston.

I take a deep breath as I unlock my phone and read the message.

Kingston: Contact forwarded: Belle Rivera-Washington

What the heck? I open the contact card and see Belle’s name with an iCloud address on it. When did she get an Apple device to have one of those?

I immediately dial Kingston's number, and he answers on the first ring.

“I see the nurse delivered your stuff.”

I get straight to the point. “Why are you sending me contact information for my sister?”

He releases a deep chuckle. "I know you were frustrated having to go through Jerome, so I eliminated the middleman. Belle now has a brand new iPad so you can FaceTime as often as you'd like. It's hooked up to a cellular network, and the bill is in my name, so there's no risk of it being shut off for non-payment. Don't worry about her dad—he's been taken care of as well. He won't interfere."

“But...how? Why?”

"Ainsley and Reed dropped by your sister's house and explained why you missed our standing date last Sunday...an explanation appropriate for a seven-year-old, anyway. Belle knows you were hurt, and you're in the hospital, but that you'll be okay. She's expecting your call whenever you're feeling up to it."

Damn him. He knows my little sister, Belle, is my greatest weakness. Her father, Jerome, rarely answers the phone when I call, and half the time, he makes some excuse why Belle can't talk. I'm not sure why he's constantly keeping me away from her, but I suspect it may be a control thing. He wants to remind me who has custody of her and who's really in charge.

Kingston's assurance that Jerome won't interfere tells me he's paying him to allow it, just like he pays him for our weekly visits. I hate that Kingston did this because he's once again using Belle to get closer to me, but I can't say it doesn't make me happy having such an easy way to speak with her.

Infuriatingly confusing man.

My mother would be ashamed of me for not acknowledging the gift, so I suck it up and say, “Thank you. That was very thoughtful.”

I swear I can hear him smile. “That was really hard for you to spit out, wasn’t it?”

“No,” I grumble.

It totally was.

Another laugh. “Are you feeling any better? Can I get you anything?”

I bite my lip, carefully crafting my response. I don’t want Kingston to think I’m opening the lines of communication with us because I’m not ready for that.

“No. The nurses are taking care of me. The best thing you can do right now is give me time.”

Aaaaand cue the awkward silence.