Black Knight (Royal Elite #4) - Rina Kent Page 0,2
dimples.
“Green…” He sniffles in my neck. “Promise you’ll never leave me.”
“Never. You’re my knight, remember?”
He nods.
“From today onwards, we’re one.”
“We’re one.”
1
Kimberly
I’m not good enough.
I’ll never be good enough.
You know that feeling when words keep hammering in your head until they form a suffocating fog? Until they’re all you can think about and all you can breathe?
When you wake up in the morning, they slowly condensate around you like they’re your life-long companions.
They’re the first thought you wake up to and the last thought you sleep on.
That’s how it’s felt for years now.
That’s how my battle starts, and every day, I tell it not today.
“Kimmy!” A small hand pulls on mine as my baby brother drags me towards the entrance of the elementary school.
Kirian reaches my waist now. His pressed uniform has a wrinkle on the shoulder that I smooth with my hand.
His sun-kissed blond hair is in a short bowl cut that he takes pride in because it’s ‘the thing’. His bright brown eyes are so shiny, you can almost see the world through them. A world so pure, you’d want to mass-produce it and freely distribute it.
“What is it, Kir?” I ask.
“I said, you’ll do me mac and cheese later, right?”
“I can’t. I have school until late.”
He pouts, his hand turning lax in mine. If there’s anything I hate in the world, it’s killing that spark in his features.
“Marian will do it for you,” I bargain.
Kir loves our housekeeper and spends time with her when I’m not around.
“I don’t want Mari. I want you to do it.”
“Kir…” I crouch in front of him, making him stop walking. “You know there’s nothing I want more than to stay with you, right?”
He shakes his head frantically. “You disappeared the other day.”
My lower lip trembles and it takes everything in me to pull it together. This is the reason I wake up every day, why I fight that fog, why I get into the shower and then put on my uniform.
People say nothing can stop those thoughts when they strike deep. You need therapy, you need meds, you need all the fucking things.
I only need this little man with his huge eyes and small pout. His face is the first thing I try to see in the morning. His voice is the one I want to hear as soon as I open my eyes.
Kirian is my own special pill. My happy pill.
But he saw something he shouldn’t have last week. Or rather, he witnessed it and when I woke up, I found him bawling by the foot of my bed, hugging me and begging me not to leave him.
“That will never happen again, my little monkey.”
“What if it does?” His lower lip pushes forward as he widens his eyes. “What if you disappear and I have to stay with Mum?”
“Never, Kir.” I pull him to me and crush him in a hug. “I’ll never ever leave you alone with Mum. Do you get that?”
He pushes away from me and sticks out his small finger. “Pinkie swear?”
“Pinkie swear, you baby.” I curl mine around his.
As soon as he’s sure of the promise, he shoves away and glares up at me, pouting. “I’m not a baby.”
“You are my little baby. Deal with it.”
“Whatever.” He widens his eyes once more. “Are you going to come home early?”
Seriously, he has a puppy look that I’m ready to commit a crime for.
I stand up and ruffle his hair. “Fine. I’ll try.”
“Yay!” He hugs my legs. “I love you, Kimmy!”
Then he’s running in the direction of the school, clutching the straps of his backpack.
“Love you, too!” I shout after him. “Don’t run.”
As soon as I make sure he’s made it inside, I head back to my car. Other kids hop from their parents’ vehicles, kissing them before heading to the school.
A scene neither Kir nor I have had in our entire lives. I’m probably the only sibling driving her brother today.
At times like these, the red clouds I harbour for Mum explode with passion.
I don’t care about myself, but she has no right to make Kir believe he’s also unwanted, a mistake, a fucking broken condom.
At least Dad tries. All my early childhood memories consist of him putting me to bed or hugging me as I slept. He’s also the one who has always nursed me when I have a cold.
Never Mum.
Dad is just a busy man and rarely at home to make much of a difference. His calls are hardly enough anymore.