Shattered Prince

When I wasn’t and never would be.

I pushed back from the table suddenly. My leg ached like hell and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. This was wrong, all wrong. I shouldn’t let myself get attached to these people, not when I could be sent back to my father at any moment. If Oscar went back to Mexico and told Papa what I’d done then my life was over. It was ruined, and I doubted Mal or Cap or Carmine would want me around anymore, not when they heard the whole truth.

“Are you okay?” Cap asked, frowning.

I nodded, breathing fast. “Fine. Bathroom.” I walked away fast, down the hall, and disappeared into my room. I shut the door as blackness descended on my vision, and I realized I was hyperventilating, and my leg ached so bone-deep and horrible that all I wanted was to swallow ten pills and let my world go numb. I wrapped my arms around myself and curled up on the floor next to the bed, and I groaned as I thought of all the ways I’d screw this up and lose my friends.

That was what I deserved. I deserved to watch it all crumble.

The door opened. I looked up, blinking through tears. Carmine knelt next to me, talking quietly, smoothing my hair. I didn’t understand the words—I was too busy breathing like I might never get any air—and he picked me up, wrapped his arms around me, and held me in his lap. He hugged me like that and slowly, the horrible chest-tightening pain began to loosen, at least enough for me to blink and look into his eyes.

“You’re okay,” he said softly, kissing the corner of my mouth. “You’re having a panic attack. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I said, my breathing getting under control even though my heart still raced and my palms were sweating and I was trembling all over. “A panic attack? I don’t have panic attacks.”

“You do now. God, Jules, what’s wrong?”

I shook my head and buried it in his chest. “What if this all goes away?” I whispered, and felt so pathetic. He wouldn’t understand. He’d think I was being dramatic, like a little child. But he didn’t know how new this was for me and how important it was, and how scared I felt that I wasn’t worthy.

“It’s not going away,” he said softly, stroking my hair gently. His touch soothed me, bit by bit. “Cap and Mal like you. I like you. We’re not going to let anything bad happen.”

“But you don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve done or where I’m from. Carmine, you barely know a thing about me.” I leaned up and looked into his eyes.

He only smiled. “I know a lot about you. More than you realize. For example, you don’t know how to drive. You hate iced tea, but like it hot. You love pop music, but only from the late ‘90s. You sing in the bathroom while you’re brushing your teeth, which is a feat, but sounds really bad. I know you better than you realize, Jules.”

“Those are just details. They’re not—they’re not the things I’ve done.”

“You think I care about what you’ve done? We all have a past here. We’re all running away from something terrible. I know you’re good in your heart, Jules. I don’t care what happened back home, not when you’re here now.”

I blinked back more tears. I kept doing this with him. I kept crying. It was so weak, and I hated that weakness, but he brought it out. Like the softness was hiding deep inside, and only when I was with him could I finally let it all out.

“When I came in here, all I wanted to do was swallow a dozen of those pills. That’s all I could think about.”

His face clouded. “You can’t do that.”

“I know, I know. I haven’t wanted them in days, but suddenly it was like a craving.”

“You’re still getting used to life without them.” He lifted me and put me onto the edge of the bed but remained kneeling between my knees. “But you don’t need them anymore.”

He leaned forward and kissed me. I kissed him back, desperate and stupid. He was like heaven on my lips, and I understood how badly I needed this and how broken I was, but I saw a glimmer of hope as he kissed down my neck and tugged off my tights. I saw a hint of something better as he kissed my inner thigh and pushed aside my panties to lick me top to bottom. I saw a good future, a real future, as he licked my clit and folds, tonguing me all over, and slid his fingers deep inside to fuck me with them.

I moaned his name, whispering it. I grabbed his hair as he sucked me and teased me faster and faster, his lips and fingers doing some kind of magic to my body that I still didn’t understand, and I felt the orgasm build. Tears still on my cheeks, my mouth open wide, I was so vulnerable and shattered, and yet he put me back together.