Delayed by Nathan Kingsly (the false prince TXT) 📗

first move, a bombshell in tight leather leggings, red heels, and lips to match. Yet, she is the farthest from what I want. I stuff both the card and receipt into my pocket.

“Come back soon” Her mouth smiles seductively.

“Will do.” Just not for you.

I realize what I need to do now. If I do this, I have no other option than to commit, truly commit. Pulling my cell from my back pocket, I make the first call of many I need to make.

“Brian, I need a favor.”

The feeling of no return shivers up my spine, and this time I don’t know if it will be a pleasant ending.

When I get back to Mia’s, I’m relieved to find all the lights turned off. I skirt the edges of her property to avoid the sensor lights, until I get to her back fence and jump it. Smiling to myself, it's still set up like in the last picture she sent me. A hammock rests on her porch with a pillow and a thin blanket. It’s her reading place, but I have another purpose for it tonight.

Dropping my bag below it, I wrestle with the hammock for a good grip. Gritting my teeth at the squeal it makes as I lean in with my body weight. My eyes turn to the sliding door. After a minute, I breathe out and try again. This time, it groans as I adjust my weight on it, and I cuss as I find my way to the middle. After I’m settled, I’m quiet until the crickets start up again, and I hear nothing coming from inside the house.

My body starts to relax into the gentle swing of the hammock, and I pull the blanket up to my chin. She’s going to be pissed if she finds me out here, but I hope to make her understand I couldn’t leave.

I’m not sure when I relax enough to sleep, but it’s too soon that I jolt, forgetting where I am. The hammock rocks, my world shifts before I can find my balance. The concrete greets me, and I groan before I can cover my ears from the deafening sound I can’t yet pinpoint. With hands over my ears, I look around to find my sister blowing on her coffee, a single eyebrow arched, and her phone raised in her other hand.

“What is that?” I shout.

She waves her phone, “House alarm.” She takes a sip of her coffee.

Getting to my feet, I try to grab the phone from her. She twists away, I shout back, “Turn it off!”

“In your dreams. Have to make sure the cops know which house to drag you to jail from!”

“Stop being a brat and turn the damn alarm off!”

I stretch across her body to try and grab the phone. I’m so close, my fingers grazing the case. I hiss and jump back as scolding coffee soaks me through my clothes. Growling, I rip off my shirt and lunge for her body that’s shaking with laughter. Though as she sees me coming, she shrieks over the alarm and bolts toward the door. Diving for her, I grip her ankle, and she hits the floor. The cup smashes on impact, the coffee splashes onto the sliding door. She’s twisting to kick me with her other foot, but I grab it and start pulling her down towards me and to the phone still gripped in her hand. She shoves her free hand in my face, my nose smashed but still able to smell the coffee I’m wearing. Jerking my face away, I try and take a bite out of her hand, but now she’s smacking me with every failed attempt.

“Get off me!”

“Then, turn off the damn alarm, Mia!”

My legs embolize her thrashing ones, and I grab hold of her hand, but not before I see spots from my right eye. Her fists might leave a bruise that time. Shaking my head, I try and focus, and my fingers graze the phone again.

It’s only a second before I have it that I notice the extra set of feet that weren’t there a moment ago. My mom bends down and snatches the phone out of both of our hands. Her mouth a firm line as she taps a few buttons on Mia’s phone.

For the first time since I’ve woken, there is relief and sweet, sweet silence, but it’s short-lived. My mother is glaring down at the two of us, and her hands firm on her waist. “What the hell are you two doing? You’ve woken the whole neighborhood! Get inside.” The last words spoken in a low threat that any kid would recognize as meaning you were in deep shit. She turns and walks back inside the house.

As soon as she’s out of sight, Mia smacks me on the head. “Get off me.” She hisses.

Releasing her, she scrambles up and stomps into the house, mumbling under her breath about her favorite cup. It makes me glance towards it, and I get up and walk towards it. Crouching, I start to pick it up, and my features tighten as recognition hits.

“Damn it.” It’s the cup I got her for our twentieth birthday. It was before our life went sideways. It held happy memories, and now it's broken. If it’s still her favorite, there might be more hope for me than I thought.

Walking into the house, I set the pieces on the counter, not ready to throw them out. If I find some super glue, I'll try to fix it. Wish they’d make glue strong enough to fix us as easily.

“I’m serious, Mia. When they get here, you’re going to tell them that it was by mistake.”

“Why don’t you two get that I’m allowed to be pissed.”

I come around the corner and see them in a stare-off. All our heads turn towards the front door as someone knocks with authority.

“Mia Marone, this is the police. We received a call from your home security providers. Are you in danger?”

“Ye...” Mom