Vicious Prince (Royal Elite #5) - Rina Kent Page 0,54

later.

Ronan: You’re not here. Why aren’t you here? And why do Elsa and Knox think it’s fine that you’re purging or what-the-fuck-ever? You better answer me or I swear to fucking God…

Ronan: Okay, that sounded threatening. I don’t want to threaten you, but I fucking will if I have to.

Ronan: That text didn’t help my case, but fuck it. If no one told you, I don’t stop, so I’ll search and find you, and yes, that sounds stalkerish, but fuck it again. I’m finding you and punishing you.

I scroll to the next text as if my hands are on fire. Reading the progress from angry to pleading and back to angry touches something inside me. It’s a feather-light touch, but it’s deep and raw and all I want is more.

The next text is a few hours later.

Ronan: Okay, fine. I shouldn’t have threatened that stunt with Claire and her friend. I don’t even know her name. I think I fucked her once, but if I don’t remember her name, she’s clearly forgettable. Anyway, that’s not the point. I never planned to go through with it. The sex part, I mean. I wanted you to come clean, so how about you do that, and then I’ll fuck this whole messed-up day out of our memories?

I narrow my eyes. If he doesn’t remember Claire’s friend’s name but remembers Claire’s, does that mean she’s a memorable fuck?

Damn. I can’t believe that’s the only thing that remained in my mind after that entire text.

Ronan: I visited your house again. Agnus was there. I threw his phone in the rubbish bin. Knox told me I’m being childish, and I told him to fuck off. (Btw, I burned Cole’s newest book toy yesterday too. I had two accomplishments in less than twenty-four hours.) If you didn’t look at Agnus with those damn smiley eyes, I could’ve spared his phone, but oh well, RIP phone. What do you see in that creep anyway? Elsa says he’s a psychopath, like a real one who manipulates people and has no emotions.

Ronan: Wait…is that your type? Is that why you were with Cole? Come on, pick a type — daddy kink or psycho kink.

Ronan: I’m better than both. Just saying.

I laugh out loud then hide the sound with the back of my hand. He’s an anomaly. A serious one.

And he’s the only one who makes me laugh even when he doesn’t intend to.

The next text came two hours ago.

Ronan: It’s been exactly twenty-four hours since you disappeared on me. Congrats on the ghosting effort, but it’ll come to an end. I’m going to hire a PI and even the MI6 to find you. Brace yourself.

His last two texts came an hour ago.

Ronan: I’m at the Meet Up and I kicked everyone out to smoke weed and think about you in peace. I miss you and I’m going to fuck you when I find you, my crazy belle. Oh, and my calls have started with the PI. I’m going to convince Ethan to file a missing person report. You’re going down.

Ronan: I fucking miss you, though.

My chest squeezes so hard after reading the last words, so hard I’m surprised my heart doesn’t tear out of my ribcage and jump out of its confinement. How can he say words like that so easily, as if he was always meant to say them to me?

How can he get to me so effortlessly when no one else could?

I stand up before I even realise it. This time, I don’t pretend it’s normal or that it’s a phase.

It’s not, and I’m completely fine with it.

I’m completely fine with Ronan finding me and punishing me and everything in between.

Because the truth is, he’s not normal, and neither am I.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s completely fine.

21

Teal

By the time I arrive at the Meet Up, it’s night-time.

It’s only when I push the door open that I actually take a second to think about what I’m doing.

I came here for Ronan.

He’s also the only one here. I confirmed it when I spotted his car parked outside without a trace of the other guys’ vehicles.

I can do it. I can absolutely do this.

I draw deep breaths in and forge ahead. One foot in front of the other.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps…

It’s not that hard, and it’s probably the first time I’ve thought about steps while I’m taking them.

It’s like the club all over again — me on my knees waiting for someone to set me free, even if just for the