Black Knight (Royal Elite 4)

Those are the only four people she’s allowed to visit her. The only people she’s allowed to see her in her true form, not the fake Kim who hid behind the façade, but the real one who held back tears as she talked about her scars.

Elsa cried and Ronan comforted her. Teal, the goth girl, who doesn’t touch anyone, let Kim hug her.

And yes, I watched all that through the opening of the door or the glass like a creep.

I’ve been contemplating the best way to go in there and tell her, to relieve her from the pain, even if it’ll add a different type of pain.

However, I haven’t managed to.

I’m not only a creep but also a coward and a selfish bastard, because even now, I want to protect her in my own fucked up way.

Calvin is the only one who spends the nights with her and she sleeps almost immediately whenever he sits beside her.

I’ve never seen a father so devoted as him, even if he is a bit late at it. He brought the psychiatric doctors and they had some sort of a family therapy – without Jeanine.

That bitch is now sitting on the bench, glaring at a boy who’s playing with his parents, probably because he’s making some noise. As usual, she’s holding a phone to her ear and speaking in her typical snobbish tone. She’s acting as if the girl inside isn’t her only daughter.

As if she didn’t attempt to kill herself.

Kill herself.

Thinking about those words drives the knife in deeper still. I can try to put roses and unicorns on it, but that’s what Kim did. She wanted to leave this world and never return.

Fuck.

I’m in the corner, watching the entrance to Kim’s room, but staying away from Jeanine’s field of vision.

“Yes, of course,” she snaps. “I will not delay the exhibition for any reason at all. She’ll be fine, she’s not a kid.”

I’m about to go in there and punch her in the face. Maybe she’ll delay the exhibition if her damn image is disfigured.

I hate that woman. And not only because of the past, but it’s mainly because she never deserved a daughter like Kim.

Selfish people like Jeanine are not fit for motherhood. Just like my mum.

Kim’s room door hisses open and Calvin comes outside, his face worn, but he doesn’t appear sad, just tired.

“Go home, Jeanine,” he tells his wife, stopping in front of her.

“This is the second time I’ve come and haven’t seen her.” She rises to her feet and places a hand on her hip. “I have things to do.”

“And I’m telling you to go back and do those things. You won’t see her until she’s ready.”

“You’re spoiling that brat and I won’t stand for it. I’m her mother.”

He laughs with a biting edge. “Mother? When was that, Jeanine? When I caught you hitting your stomach, saying this demon needs to disappear? Or when you didn’t want to hold her when the nurse brought her over? Or was it when you threw her at me and refused to even look at her, let alone feed her? Newsflash, she was never your daughter and from today onwards, you have no right to speak to her or try to exercise your motherly rights on her.”

For the first time in her life, Jeanine appears speechless. It only takes her a few seconds to recuperate, though. “Is that what she said?”

“Go home and take care of Kirian.”

She taps her shoes on the ground. “He keeps asking about her.”

“Then you tell him she’s at camp and will call in the morning. Be useful for once in your entire useless life.”

“Fuck you, Calvin.” She yanks her bag from the bench. “I won’t be coming again.”

“Even better,” he calls behind her back as she stomps out of the hospital as if her heels are on fire.