The walnut brown leather looks good against my tanned skin, and I like the silver accent. “Love it,” I tell her.
“I know you don’t wear anything but the watch but—”
“It’s perfect. Don’t say anything else, because I love this and I won’t stand for anyone insulting it, not even you.” I hold my wrist in the air. “Looks sick.”
She grins. “I don’t know how sick it is, but I’m glad you like it. Oh. I have one other gift.”
“Yeah?” I ask cautiously. I don’t want to scare her off with my eagerness.
“My other gift is this—I did something to piss off my parents and now they’ve banished me.” Her fingers absently trace the frame of the painting. “I have another sister. Did I tell you about her?”
I shake my head. “No, but I saw her picture in the newspaper article I found online.”
“Her name’s Dylan’s. She’s thirteen. I’ve only been able to talk to her eight times in three years.”
Hartley stops talking. I can tell she’s on the verge of tears.
I take a step toward her, but she puts up a hand. “No. I can’t take any sympathy at the moment. I’ll break down and I don’t want to do that.”
“I talk to Reed at least once a week,” I find myself admitting. “I’d probably be an emotional mess if I couldn’t see or talk to my brothers more than a couple times a year.”
“Yeah… It hasn’t been easy.” She twists away and ducks her head. I suspect she’s wiping away a few tears, but I pretend not to notice.
“We should kidnap her,” I suggest.
“My sister?”
“Yup. We’ll go to her school, sneak her out during the day, and go to the pier. Whaddya say?”
“I wish.”
“I’m serious. I’m good at shenanigans. I could pull this off without a hitch. We’d buy funnel cakes, which I know from past experience you love. Headbands with animal ears. Bunnies for you and Dylan. A tiger for me.”
Hartley’s smiling. “Why not a tiger for me and bunny ears for you? You’d look cute in pink.”
“I’d be so cute that the whole midway would grind to a halt and then Dylan wouldn’t get to go on any rides.” I wink.
Hartley’s smile grows bigger, and the anxious, itchy, crabby feeling that ate at me for the past twenty-four hours fades away.
“I want to see her!” someone shouts from the front hall.
The familiar male voice freezes me in my tracks.
“Ella’s not home,” comes my father’s icy reply.
“Bullshit. I know she’s here,” Steve snaps. “Get out of my way, Callum. She’s my daughter and I need to speak to her.”
Hartley taps me on my shoulder. “I should probably leave,” she murmurs.
Her discomfort at hearing this matches mine, only for different reasons. She thinks I’m embarrassed, but I’m worried about Ella. “No. Stay here,” I whisper.
“What you need to do is stay far away from her,” Dad snaps back. “The only reason we haven’t filed a restraining order against you is because we didn’t think you were stupid enough to show up here.”
“You’re the one who opened the gate,” Steve says snidely.
I inch the door forward, and Dad and Steve’s voices immediately get louder. I’m perplexed why Dad would let Steve in. Hopefully, Ella is far away and doesn’t know her dad’s here.
I grab my phone from my pocket and text Reed.
Steve’s here
I kno. Ella texted me
Damn.
Where r u? Reed asks
In the sitting rm. Where’s Ella?
Top of stairs
“Shit,” I mutter.
Hartley comes up beside me. “What’s wrong?”
“Ella’s bio dad is out there causing problems.” I jerk my thumb toward the foyer, where the argument’s still going strong.
“What choice did I have?” Dad says. “You were waking up the entire neighborhood, parked out there and laying on your horn like a maniac. You’re lucky I didn’t call the cops.”
“Why didn’t you?” Steve mocks.
“Because Ella’s already been through enough. The last thing that girl needs is to see her father once again carted away in handcuffs. But I mean it, Steve. You’re not to come near her. You’re no longer her guardian—I am. The court—”
“Screw the court!”
Hartley flinches. I lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“She’s my daughter, Callum. And I don’t know what horseshit your lawyers have been feeding you, but Ella is going to be a witness for the defense, not the prosecution. My daughter is not going to testify against me.”
Hartley gasps and then slaps a hand over her mouth.
I bring my lips close to her ear. “And you think you’ve got skeletons in your closet, huh? Trust me, no secrets you have are dirtier than the ones we Royals have.”
“You Royals always have to be the best at everything,” she jokes weakly. Her face is pale and her eyes are wide.
“Welcome to my life.” I take her hand and grip it tightly in mine. She squeezes back.
Out in the hall, the two dads are still arguing. In here, we’re comforting each other.
“You’re no longer part of this family,” Dad says coldly. “You’re not Ella’s father. You’re not my boys’ godfather. You’re not my friend or my business partner. The next time we see each other, it will be in court, when your daughter testifies against you.”
“We’ll see about that,” Steve retorts.
The front doors slam. I wait until Dad’s footsteps no longer echo against the marble floor before I peek out into the hall. It’s empty. “Come on,” I tell Hartley, pulling her behind me.
“Where’re we going?”
“To find Ella.”
Hartley shakes her head. “You go. I feel weird talking to her about this.”
“She won’t mind—”
“It’s none of my business,” Hartley says firmly. “Besides, I really do have to go. I’ve got homework to finish up for tomorrow. I came straight here after work.”
I grab her hand before she passes through the doorway. “Wait.” My forehead creases. “I want to know more about your sister and what’s going on with your family. Will you tell me more about it tomorrow? Maybe at lunch?” When she stays silent, I swallow my disappointment. “Or you can keep holding back on me, I guess.”
Her cheeks take on a pink blush. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I do hold back. It’s not on purpose, though. I’ve never really liked talking about myself. Even before boarding school, I was kind of a loner. I mean, I’ve had boyfriends—”
“Names and addresses,” I order. “I need to know who I’m beating up.”
That gets me a snicker. “Oh, relax. They’re ancient history. But, yeah, aside from them, I haven’t confided in a lot of people. I don’t think I’m too good at it.”
“Obvs.”
Hartley smiles faintly. “I’m young—still learning and growing and all that crap, right?” She shrugs. “I’m going to try to be a better friend. That’s basically what I came here to say.”
She holds out her hand for a shake, and my first instinct is to bypass that and go straight for a hug. Then I realize that I need to meet her gesture of friendship with one of my own.
I take her hand in mine. I probably hold it longer than friends normally do, but I’m young, too. Still learning and growing and all that crap.
It feels right to be doing that with someone holding my hand, though. Especially with her gift wrapped around my wrist.
Chapter 23