Pretender to the Throne - Page 39

“Is it?”

“It’s what you wanted.”

“They seem to think I’ve reformed,” he said.

“Have you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Are you going to run again?” she asked, arms crossed under her breasts, her chin tilted up, defiant. If he was, he’d better tell her now.

“No.”

“Then you won’t screw it up. Because I don’t think it’s in you to fail. You have to walk away from everything entirely in order to slack off last time.”

“I’m not going to run permanently,” he said slowly, “but I might need a day off. Do you want to come with me?”

“Where?” she asked.

“The beach. I think I need a day at the beach.”

* * *

For the beach drive, Xander chose that ostentatious sports car rather than the limo. This moment really did feel like it was from another time. Strangely light. Strangely happy. The Zombie Princess headline lingered in the background, but right now, the mountains were green and beautiful and the beach was a glittering jewel. The windows were rolled down and the wind whipped through the car, smelling of salt and sand and sun.

“Now, this reminds me of the past,” she said. “But in a good way.”

“Me, too,” he said, looking over at her briefly before putting his focus back on the road.

“There’s that little window of life where you don’t worry about much of anything. I think being seventeen was my favorite. I could drive and could do things I wanted with friends. But I wasn’t quite to my dynastic engagement with you, so there was nothing too serious happening. Just parties and trips to the beach.”

“I never had that. I mean, I was always raised to be the heir.”

“You always seemed happy, though. Like you were having fun at life’s expense.”

“Yeah, well, I sort of was at that point. I always knew my responsibility, but I liked to have fun. Because, that’s the flip side of the heir responsibility. I was assured of my place. Of my divine right to become the most powerful man on the island. How can a young guy not get off on that?”

“I suppose it’s impossible.”

They rounded a corner and she noticed Xander’s knuckles get white on the wheel. She looked up at him, at the hard expression on his face.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” She could see his chest, rising and falling hard and fast as he struggled to breathe.

“What’s happening, Xander?”

“I’m so stupid,” he said, his lips white as his knuckles now. “I didn’t realize where I was going.”

She really thought he might pass out on her now. “Pull over,” she said. “Just up here, there’s a place with beach access.”

He nodded slowly and pulled the car into a gravel turn-out on the side of the road, killing the engine. There was silence except for the sound of his breathing and the crashing of the waves.

“What happened?” she asked.

He got out of the car without saying anything, the keys in the ignition, the door open. And he started down the stairs that led down to the beach.

And all she could do was stare after him.

She wondered what pain hurt so bad that he couldn’t bring himself to speak about it. It was related to what had happened to him yesterday with his father, she was sure of that. She unbuckled and got out, following him down to the beach, white sand sifting into her sandals, piling into a warm ball beneath the arch of her foot. She kicked the shoes off and ran ahead to where he was.

He started walking into the ocean. She remembered telling him how she’d longed to do that. To disappear beneath the waves and never come back up. And then he dipped his head beneath the water, and Layna couldn’t see him anymore.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“XANDER!” LAYNA SHOUTED, following him out into the waves.

The waves were hitting her at chest level. She gave up on walking and tried to tread water, even though she could touch the bottom. But the waves washed her backward, away from him. “Xander!” she sputtered, water going over her head. She let the water draw her back toward the shore and stood hip-deep in the surf.

He came back up then, his dark head breaking the surface. A wave pushed him back so that he was near her.

“Are you trying to drown yourself?” she asked, feeling half-drowned herself. She knew all the beautiful makeup that had been put on in an effort to de-zombiefy her was gone.

“No,” he said, his words heavy. “Not that. Just...I felt like there was blood all over my hands and I thought maybe I could get them clean.”

Tags: Maisey Yates Billionaire Romance
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