Series: Fever Falls Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
5
Keegan
Oh, my fucking head.
It hurt like a motherfucker from having face-planted into the asphalt after that psycho in a suit tased the hell out of me.
I searched around the small chamber I was trapped in. A lone cot I’d woken up on, an iron-barred open window, and a wooden door that looked like something out of some boring-ass BBC miniseries—I didn’t know what the hell to think of my new cell.
Was I in prison?
No, it had to be some sort of nightmare.
That girl was a princess? What did that make Owen?
Would’ve helped if they hadn’t taken my phone away and I could have googled some of this shit.
I sat back down on the cot, taking deep, controlled breaths. I needed to calm down. Yes, that would help.
The door to my cell started to open, and I jumped back to my feet.
Images of the sorts of people who could have awaited me…or been here to carry me off to some far worse imprisonment over what was clearly a horrible misunderstanding…raced through my head. But when I saw Owen, my fear shifted to rage in an instant. For the first time since I’d met him, he didn’t appear assertive or aggressive or overly confident. He looked as guilty as he should have felt.
“Oscar?” I said, alert and wanting some fucking answers.
“It’s Owen.”
“No shit. I was being an ass—something I’ve learned you’re particularly good at.”
He stepped inside, and a guard shut the door behind him.
“I think we should go ahead and straighten all this out.” He started toward me, and his face twisted up. His strong jawline clenched as he assessed my face. “Your head is scraped up. Give me a moment.”
He pounded on the door. “Grab me a first-aid kit immediately. And there should be a doctor on the way to assess his injuries!”
The guard responded, and Owen hurried back to me.
“I don’t think I’ll need a doctor,” I said. “I’m not that hurt. More than anything, I need to let my friends know where I’m at and that I’m okay.”
“Of course. I don’t have my phone on me, but I can get yours.” He started toward the door when I said, “No, I think I’ll take answers first, and then we can deal with the rest.”
“Yes, sorry. I’m just trying to make this up to you…if that’s even possible.”
This was a side of him I definitely hadn’t seen yet. And really, it was nice to see him so concerned about me. It made me feel a little safer.
“Did they hurt you anywhere other than your face?” He approached and inspected my arms.
“Yeah, my hip hurts a little, but it’s not bad.”
“Here, let me see.”
“No, it’s fine,” I said, retreating quickly.
He seemed surprised by how fast I’d pulled away from him. He closed his eyes and muttered, “This is all my fault.”
“Okay, this part where you’re all worried about me is hot and all, but I do need to know what the fuck with…everything.”
“I’m struggling with where to begin.”
“Your name’s a good start.”
“My full name is Owen Hawthorne III. I’m the Prince of Parlaisa, and my brother is the King. This is Hawthorne Palace.”
Even just hearing that much set me at ease. Not because it made much sense, but after everything that had happened, it made a hell of a lot more sense than anything else Owen had told me that day.
“Every year, my niece—Cassie, not Reggie—and I are able to sneak out into the city in disguise because of the cosplay tradition associated with the festival’s annual parade. Much like the UK, royalty in Parlaisa are under constant scrutiny from the public, so the parade is one of the few occasions where we can escape our rather public lives. When you saw me without my mask on, I thought…”
Oh, shit. “That’s what you meant about making you. Like spy talk. You weren’t interested in me at all. You thought I knew who you were.”
I was an idiot.
“Keeg, I think it’s pretty apparent I didn’t stick my tongue down your throat because I wasn’t interested in you.”
I smirked. I shouldn’t have felt as relieved as I did about that, especially because he had still been such a royal asshole to me.
“If there’s anything you should be questioning about today,” he went on, “it’s not that kiss.”
Was I really blushing again over that?
Fuck.
“So what about everything else?” I asked. “With Cassie? And that guy with the Taser?”
“After the parade, the royal guard was to take Cassie back to the palace while Frederick—Peter Pan—and I hit the bars. When he came up to me, he was letting me know that the royal guard had lost track of her. Apparently, she’d slipped away to join protestors for this Equal Marriage bill that is due for an upcoming vote in parliament. She’s as clever as the rest of the Hawthornes. And that’s when I had to leave, to go find her. I figured I was just going to go grab Frederick when I saw him in the alley. I hadn’t considered that the guard would see you, let alone assume you were some sort of psychotic abductor.”