Reign A Romance Anthology - Nina Levine Page 0,286

believe all your sons are the ultimate catch.”

She tilts her head at me. “You boys are perfect. Younger versions of your father so, of course, I’m biased.”

“I love your enthusiasm,” I say as I head toward the door, then stop and turn around. “I’m not easily whipped like my brother so…” I pause for effect, “… no matchmaking while I’m here,” I say firmly because last night she tried to sit me next to our neighbour’s daughter who’s five years younger than me and as innocent as girls come. Mum has no idea of my type, especially in the bedroom.

“You can’t blame me for trying,” she says, and I let the door clang closed behind me.

I’m not even going to debate with her on this topic.

I jog down the stairs and take the path to the back of the farm leading to a trail toward the river. I follow the trail and keep running, ignoring the magpies swooping my head. The serenity by the river is something I’ve always loved—the songs of various birds, the clicking of insects, and the croaking frogs. Being surrounded by nature grounded me leading up to the months before I took a giant leap and moved to Adelaide to begin my football career. It’s been seven long years since then with the memories being mostly good. Now, I’m starting again in another city, even further away from Mum.

Before yesterday, I wanted Mum to visit me rather than come back here and be haunted by not only the memories of my father, but the reality of how fucked-up I was as a teenager. My life could have been a vast difference to what it is today, and the possibility I could be in a grave alongside my father by the way I used to hoon along the highway drag racing my mates. We not only drove recklessly, but we were also high as fucking kites most of the time. Even worse, we could have killed other travellers. I shake my head to dispel the memory and pick up speed. My lungs are tight, so to alleviate it, I force my heavy legs to move faster. If I want to prove myself in Brisbane, I must work harder.

I have no idea how much time has passed as I keep running while sucking in air.

Then, as if on repeat, I recall what I saw on the television at the pub last night.

Was that Star’s father?

I didn’t check my phone when I woke, and it was on silent all night.

Shit! What if she messaged me?

The thought makes me pull up and turn around. The notion of her needing me has me striding out my steps as I head toward home. By the time I reach the farm, I’m gasping for air and walk the last few hundred metres with my hands clasped behind my neck.

I leap up the steps to the back verandah and rush through the kitchen. “Merry Christmas,” I say to Rhett and Tori, and keep making my way to the bedroom where I left my phone.

My screen is bright with notifications. I swipe and read only the ones from Star, my heart still thumping in my chest even though my breath has evened out. The first message was around two in the morning.

Star: Call me when you can. I need a favour. Can I hide out at yours for a couple of days?

The next message was two hours later. Christ, did she get any sleep?

Star: I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have asked because it’s the first place they’ll look. Everything is fucked. I wish you were here.

Who will look?

Why does she need to hide?

The last message was only thirty minutes ago.

Star: Dad’s dead. I’m scared.

“Fuck!” I pick up my phone and call Star. She doesn’t answer. I call again and leave a voice message. “Hey. I’m interstate. What’s going on? Why are you scared? I need you to talk to me, Star. Are you in danger? Call me back.”

I pace the bedroom while I tap out a message.

Me: Call me when you can. Are you in danger? What’s going on?

I hit send and tilt my head back and look at the ceiling. What the hell is happening? She is royalty. But if her father is out of the picture, and her ex—the bastard—is back…

I tap out another message.

Me: What do you need me to do? I’m here for you. Just say the word.

I head to the shower, keeping my phone close by. Even after I dress,