Rise of a Queen (Kingdom Duet #2) - Rina Kent Page 0,30
like a slap across my face.
“Of course I did! Do you think that I…I made it up or something?”
He says nothing, but that expression doesn’t disappear. If anything, the line in his forehead deepens.
“I received recordings from Alicia, Jonathan. I did!”
When he continues his infuriating silence, tears form in my eyes — angry ones. Why the hell is his disbelief affecting me so much? All I want is to reach out and erase that look off his beautiful face. I don’t want him regarding me that way, not now. Not ever.
“Paul!” I snatch his phone. “I’ll call the concierge of my building. He’s the one who contacted me whenever I had a wooden package that contained a flash drive. I’m going to put it on speaker so you can hear that I’m right.”
Energy bubbles in my veins as I unlock the phone using Jonathan’s fingerprint and punch in Paul’s number. I learnt it by heart from how much I manically checked to see if I’d gotten a new message.
Jonathan doesn’t stop me as I place the phone between us while it rings.
“Hello,” Paul’s voice comes from the other side.
“Hey, Paul. This is Aurora from 19.”
“Hello, Miss Harper.”
What’s with the formality in his tone? Anyway, that’s not what’s important right now. “Paul, remember when you used to call me whenever I received a small wooden box?”
“I’m sorry, Miss?”
“The boxes, Paul. The ones you pulled from under the counter and said they didn’t have a sender address on them, and you usually found them in front of the building.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss. I’ve never seen such packages. Besides, you already directed all your packages to your new address.”
“There were boxes.” My voice rises as my hold tightens around the phone. “I received the first one two months ago and the last one came yesterday.”
“I didn’t see you yesterday, Miss. I took the day off for my dentist appointment.”
No, no, no…
“Stop playing with me, Paul.” My voice is brittle, but it’s also on the verge of breaking all hell loose.
“Excuse me, Miss?”
Jonathan takes the phone from my fingers, even as I try to fight for its possession. “Thank you.”
Two words. Two mere words and then he hangs up. His gaze trails up to my face as if I’m an injured animal on its death bed.
“Stop looking at me like that.” My voice cracks.
“Like what?”
“Like you think I’m insane. I’m not.”
“All right.”
“I am not. I received those packages.”
“Okay.”
“Stop it.” I hit his chest. “Stop it! Stop it! I’m not crazy, okay?”
Jonathan prisons both my hands against his chest, stopping my tantrum. They lie limp in his hold, exhaustion and confusion rearing at my nerve endings.
“You need rest, Aurora. You haven’t slept properly in two days.”
He stands up and reaches for me, and I pull back, leaning on my hands.
“You’ll aggravate your wound.” He places one hand on my back and the other underneath my legs and carries me in his arms.
I don’t fight. I feel like if I do, I’ll really be labelled crazy.
And I’m not. I had those vocal messages from Alicia. I don’t care what Jonathan or anyone else says about it.
He quickly crosses the distance between my room and his upstairs. The entire time, I keep watching his face, the way that line remains between his brows.
God damn that line. Why the fuck isn’t it disappearing?
Jonathan places me on his bed, then softly pulls the cover to my chin.
But he doesn’t join me. He doesn’t even attempt to. And the realisation that he won’t share a bed with me slices me deeper than I’d like to admit.
“Sleep, Aurora.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“I never said you were.”
“But you believe it. You’re thinking about it right now. I can tell.” I clamp my lips shut to not spout all the nonsense my brain is bubbling with. That will make my case harder, not easier.
“We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Where are you going?”
“I need to make some work calls.”
Work calls, my arse. More like he’s avoiding me. He won’t even look at me like before anymore, will he?
Refusing to think about that, I direct my thoughts to something else.
“I want Layla.” I jut my chin. “You said I could get out and meet whomever I want.”
“She’ll be here when you wake up in the morning.” He reaches a hand, which usually means he’ll stroke a stray hair off my face, but instead, he readjusts the cover, not attempting to touch me. Then he retracts his hand and leaves.