Sicko

“Roy?”

He releases his breath as a slow, menacing smirk crawls over his mouth. “Mmmm, you’re just a bit of fucking mischief, huh, Duchess.” He moves closer until his lips are grazing against my earlobe. “You might wanna be careful with the way those pretty little eyes look at me.”

I flinch, crawling off his body. Just as I’m back on my feet, his hands come to mine and I find myself watching his face again. It’s painful how perfect Royce is. I’m sure I always knew it, only things are starting to shift into an area that I’m not sure I’m comfortable with addressing right now.

“Hey!” He yanks on my fingers and my eyes catch his grazed knuckles. Bloodied and spoiled with cracks as deep as the ones forming in my heart. “I was joking, Duchess, you know that.”

“What do you mean?” I murmur, swiping my unruly hair out of my face as the boat slows, pulling up to the dock. “What part?”

I can hear Dad cursing in the background the second we’re anchoring in. Royce winks. “You tell me.” He jackknives up from his position, clutching his stomach. “This is going to for sure give Dad a hernia,” Royce banters, and just as he’s walking past me, I catch the dampness on his stomach. My hand flies out to his arm, halting him. He’s big enough to push me away, but he doesn’t.

“Royce…” I whisper, pulling him backward.

He staggers back, and his face pales. “What’s the matter, Duchess? Gonna finally kiss me now that I’m dying?”

Before I can register his words or take them in, he falls against me, pushing me to the ground, There’s yelling in the background, with Mom and Dad both diving into the boat. Everything is a blur, my world is spinning. Someone is screaming so loud that my ears bleed, and it’s not until I’m tearing off his hoodie to see the stab wound in his stomach that I figure out that, that someone screaming…

is me.

My world is caving in around me. I’ve been rocking back and forward in the waiting room since we got here. They still haven’t let us see Royce, and he’s apparently still in surgery. Running my hands through my hair, I continue to rock furiously, attempting to talk myself down from the outburst I can feel rising.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault. No one can stop Royce when he’s in a rage. Except when I think those words, I know that’s a lie. There is one person who could have stopped him.

Calmed him.

Me.

He wanted to leave, and I left him down there all for what? My pride? Because I wanted to sulk instead of snatching him away from a girl I know he doesn’t give a fuck about?

The strong stench of metal fills my nostrils and I bring my hands down to my face. Red streaks of blood crust over the palms of my hands, trapped between my fingers. My hands shake as I furiously take in every single droplet of blood.

Royce’s blood.

I fly to my feet and tear off my hoodie, and then look down at the t-shirt I had underneath, only seeing his stained blood smeared over that too. His life was right there. On me. Stained. What if this is all I have left of him? I tear off my shirt and throw it onto the ground with the hoodie.

“Jade, sweetheart.” My mom comes closer to me, her hand on my arm. I flinch away from her, the tears in my eyes blurring my vision. I don’t even feel them drop down my cheeks anymore, because I’m so numb. So, so, so numb. “Your father will take you home to shower and change. There’s nothing you can do here…”

I shake my head, my dry hair scratching against my shoulders.

“Duchess…” Orson says, and a warm hoodie comes over my shoulders. “Put this on and I’ll get Mom to wash your clothes.” Before he can take my discarded clothes, I lean down and scoop them up, running to the bin and tossing the pile inside. Pain grips at my heart again, injecting me with its ugly poison and refusing to let go. I don’t want it to either, because the guilt is unbearable.

“I should have gone. I should have listened to him and came back to the boat.” Just as the words leave my lips, Storm is beside me protectively. Officers amble into the room and I watch through blurred vision as Dad stands and addresses them, though we don’t ever have to worry. Kyle Kane has the entire fucking force in his back pocket. The day I realized this was the day I saw Royce’s bad side. I never wanted to see it again, because I was afraid. Afraid that something like this would happen again.

“He’s going to be okay, Dutch. This is Royce. He doesn’t go down like that…”