We The Pretty Stars (Court High 4)

He started to approach, but I lifted my hands. He frowned. “Em…”

“Don’t Em me.” This was too much, too everything, and what did being here have to do with the truth only he could give? Was he messing with me?

What the fuck?

I walked in the opposite direction, but Royal got to me before I even hit the street. He pulled me forward. “All the answers start here—”

“What answers?” I shook out of his grasp. “You’ve been a vault, and this is cruel.”

“It may be, but it’s necessary. What’s inside is necessary.” He sighed toward the heavens, shoving hands into his pockets. “You know what? You’re right. This is too much. It’s too much for you, and I never should have taken you here—”

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like I’m weak!”

“You’re not, but, December, this would be a lot for anyone. Coming here?” He threw a hand behind his neck. “It would be for anyone. It was for me.”

I blanched at the admittance, the fact he’d come here unknown to me.

Perhaps, he knew I had no idea, my surprise all over my face. Approaching, he pushed hands to the back of my arms, warming me through my coat. “I came here after you left for LA. That’s why I wasn’t at your sister’s ceremony.”

“Why would you come here instead of the service?”

A tongue dampened his full lips, and he reached up to brace my face. “Because I needed to know the truth about some stuff. A trail brought me here, and I followed. I fucking followed it and unleashed all kinds of fucking bullshit I never wanted you to be a part of.”

Tears, actual tears, fell and streamed thickly down my face. Royal wiped them away, his thumbs running through those hot trails. By my cheeks, he brought me forward and pulled me directly into his hard chest.

“Baby, I never wanted you to be a part of this.” So much emotion in his voice, the tone gravelly. Smoothing hands over my head, he kissed my hair in the cool breeze. “Just give me a reason. A reason to let you go and get you the fuck out of this place. It’s your call, Em, and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. I’d give anything to protect you from what I know.”

I knew he would, and had in the past to the point of more cruelty. He’d rather hurt me to keep me away than tell me the truth, his MO.

I was starting to understand so much about this beautiful boy, the layers of his heart no doubt twisted and mutilated from previous pain. I was sure he’d experienced years of it, physical scars I’d seen. He did things the only way he knew how.

“I want to see,” I gasped, gripping his arms. I buried my face into his jacket. “I want to know whatever it is you have to show me.”

Despite what I said, Royal didn’t move, the pair of us just standing there in the chill. I physically had to separate myself from him, his cheeks filled with red from the wind. I touched one. “I think I just need your help.”

Nodding, Royal led me inside a building so sleepy in this AM. It was still early and we didn’t even have to check in at the doors, just walked on in, and Royal had clearly been here before. He led the way, his hand tight in mine. A few times he kissed the back of it, then eventually brought his strong embrace around me entirely. He guided me down a hallway barren of people, brick walls painted white and air smelling too sterile. It was like they bathed the place in bleach, pungent and entirely too clean. Coming across a door, Royal stopped in front of it.

“Let me have your hands,” he said, and I gave them to him. He pulled off my gloves, then his own with his teeth. After pocketing them both, he rubbed my hands in his, taking the moments to bring them to his mouth.

He breathed so much heat into them, his eyes closed and mine shut too. I stayed in the dream, allowed him to take me away. I realized in that moment I think that’s why he did it. He was giving me more time…

Maybe even giving himself a few moments too.

Letting go, he touched our foreheads together. “You ready?”

There was no getting ready for something like this. Being here already had changed everything, but being brave, I told him I was, and after he let go, he knocked on the door behind us. Royal’s fist touched a glass window lightly, opaque so I couldn’t see inside.

The door opened only seconds later.

A man stood there, a thin man in a white jacket. He also wore rubber gloves, his name plate stating, Dr. Felton. Dr. Felton barely greeted us, a nod like he’d been expecting us. Stepping back, he allowed us entry into the space behind him, more of that antiseptic smell blasting its wave on me. The array forced a wave of nausea I didn’t anticipate, and Royal grabbed my hand. He squeezed as if he knew, and after we got inside, Dr. Felton closed the door.

“I assume you have payment?” the doctor asked, and acknowledging that, Royal pulled out his wallet. He took out more bills, handing them over to Dr. Felton.

Royal

replaced the wallet back into his jeans. “There’s more in there for time and the room. We won’t need you.”

I blanched. He really had done this before.