Page 47 of Scarred Crown

“Stay with me. Don’t answer it.” His tone is almost a growl.

“I have to.” I reach for my phone that’s fallen out of my back pocket. Alex tries to draw me to him, kissing my exposed stomach. But I gently push him away. Climbing off him, I avoid making eye contact while I tuck the answered phone against my shoulder and adjust my clothes.

“Hey.” Nick’s voice streams down the phone line and warmth engulfs me.

All the tension inside me from a minute ago evaporates. There’s so much tenderness in one word. A rush of pleasure causes all the hair on my arms to stand at attention.

“Hey.” I keep my voice low. “All done?”

“You know it. Where are you? I’ve been on the hunt.”

“Oh, um. Where have you looked?” I glance at Alex. He’s flopped back on his bed, not even bothering to say goodbye. With Nick on the phone, I can’t say anything to him, either, so I crack the door and check the hallway.

Nick’s bedroom is on this floor and given that we’re not supposed to be in his room alone, he wouldn’t have looked there. I shouldn’t have stayed with Alex so long. Stupid freaking hormones.

While Nick lists off the places he tried to find me, I only half listen. Guilt eats at me because at any moment, he’s going to ask me what I’ve been doing. When he does, I’ll lie. We never lie to each other, but I’ve been doing it for weeks.

At first, keeping the secret was thrilling. Alex and Nick were mine in different ways. Who wouldn’t want to be attached to both of them? Alex—older, darker, more mysterious. Nick—lighter, gentler. He’s the keeper of my secrets and protector of my heart.

Now my fling with Alex is a burden. Partly because Alex is pushing for things I’m not sure I want to give him, and partly because Nick and I are closer than ever. Since he broke up with Vicky, our friendship is different, but I can’t pinpoint how. It’s a good change though. The kind that makes me want to stay wrapped around him rather than wrapping myself around Alex.

“Doesn’t matter where you are,” Nick says when I’ve clearly lost track of the conversation. “Meet me in the cinema downstairs, and we’ll watch a movie. I’ll make the popcorn. Weather is shit, anyway.”

“Got anything in mind?” I take the stairs two at a time to get to the lower level where the cinema is located.

“Final Destination 2?” His tone is hopeful.

So many horror movies lately. I’m tempted to beg off and suggest something lighter. When I inevitably jump out of my skin, it’ll give Nick a good laugh. “Ohh.” I pretend enthusiasm. “Yes. Let’s do it.”

“Are you close?” Nick asks, and I can hear him starting the popcorn maker.

“Yeah,” I say, and my heart expands in my chest at the thought of seeing him. “I’m making my way to you.”

Julia

Things between Nick and me have been frosty but productive the last week since he snapped my olive branch in two… or rather fed it through the woodchipper. Each task to get Bahati, the mother, and Elena, her daughter, to Bellerive for the surgery and recovery is divided up and conquered individually. Every conversation we have is about them or our trips to the village to discuss developments with them.

Except for sharing a bed, we could be strangers.

At night when he turns off the bedside lamp, I stare at the ceiling, willing him to talk to me without a word leaving my mouth. The tit-for-tat we were engaged in has also ceased. I should be happy about that, but at least his attitude was playfully hostile before. Now? He’s just… angry.

Frankly, his shitty attitude pisses me off. I might have to cater to the whims and moods of the king, but I do not have to bow to Nick. I say I’m proud of him, and he morphs back into someone I barely recognize? Please. Get over yourself.

His behavior only drives home how little we know about each other anymore. At one time, I could have cajoled him out of his foul mood with a few well-placed compliments, an inside joke, or a reminder about some future event to take his mind off his sulk. Whenever I try to come up with something that might prod him to talk to me, I draw a blank.

We’re not friends anymore. How do I know what to say?

Kafil waits by the Landcruiser when I exit my tent. Nick is already at the communications center trying to nail down a firm date for the first and second surgery. None of the medical professionals we’ve talked to wants to do both feet at the same time, which probably makes sense, but it’s meant more coordination for us. Not one surgery and recovery, but two.

“Are you okay?” Kafil asks once we’re roaring down the gravel road.

“Fine, yes.” I stare out the window. We haven’t been on any designated safari trips since we took up Elena’s cause, and I wonder if that’s also contributed to Nick’s foul mood. He didn’t come here to do work—he came here to relax.

Though I suppose that’s not completely true since he’s started the project he and I planned together years ago to buy girls uniforms and school supplies. Hearing what he’s done is like being tackled through time. Not that Nick has told me anything, but I just might pepper Kafil with some questions. Curiosity is bubbling up inside me with no way to diffuse the tension.

It amazes me that Nick has taken the idea we organized with so much excitement, so much enthusiasm, and brought it to life with his own money. I gave up hope of ever seeing our idea developed when Alex won the not-so-friendly competition, especially when Nick suffered from a personality transplant shortly after that.

While I stare out the window at the passing scenery, I remember how we spent weeks delving into every detail and creating a tiered approach. We wanted to create something to allow women from poorer communities to flourish. At the time, I thought we’d spend years working on the project together. I couldn’t imagine any other outcome. Of course Nick would win, and of course we’d build a charity empire together.