Chapter Thirty-Nine

Name

Crossbody

“Do you really think it could work?” I asked Vince for the twentieth time as we sat on the couch under a blanket. I’d admitted to my shameful reality television addiction, but he hadn’t laughed at me, just found a cooking competition show and put it on.

“It’ll work,” he said again, his tone confident and firm, allowing me to relax a little more.

I rested my head on his shoulder, reaching for his hand under the blanket and threading my fingers through his. Vince squeezed my hand hard for a moment, his breath catching, before he pressed a kiss to my hair and stroked his thumb over my skin.

He’d called Holt a while ago and asked if we could both take today and tomorrow off. Holt had immediately said it was fine and asked how I was, so Vince had told him something vague about me receiving bad news.

I knew I’d still be a complete and utter mess if he weren’t here, taking care of things. Looking after me.

Turning my head, I nuzzled his shoulder, pressing a kiss there and breathing in his scent. When he was here, I believed that everything would be fine. The thought of leaving him, of going back and marrying someone I didn’t even know, made me shudder with horror.

“It’ll work,” he repeated in a murmur when he felt it, kissing the top of my head again and squeezing my hand. “I’m not letting you leave.”

“Alright,” I whispered, believing that he meant it.

I wasn’t so sure whether it would be enough, though. Not against my mother and everything she’d threatened to do.

“Why now?” Vince suddenly asked, as if he’d known the direction of my thoughts. I could hear the frown in his voice. “Why did she let you live here with no interference for six years, and now she’s suddenly demanding you go back and marry that princess?”

Licking my dry lips, I lifted my head. “I’m not sure. Perhaps pride. Trying to drag me back would be like… admitting she’d lost control of me. And my mother never acts impulsively. She has clearly spent the last six years figuring out how to force me back with no margin of error on her part. She can’t stand to lose.”

“Yeah, but why now?” Vince was frowning hard, staring at the TV with unseeing eyes, like he was trying to figure it out in his head. “What made her suddenly decide that now was the time you had to come back, and she was so determined to make it happen that she came here herself?”

I pursed my lips and looked down as I picked at the blanket in my lap. “I don’t know. Maybe… well, she has obviously been having me watched at least some of the time. So maybe… maybe, if she found out about me going to that motel, maybe she realised I had… found someone. And that it would make me less likely to comply. To leave you. Them.” I corrected myself quickly, as if I was just speaking in hypotheticals.

He turned to look at me, brows still pulled low. “But you’ve dated people while living here, right?”

I flushed. “Not… dated. One-night stands here and there, but not… more than that. I don’t go out much,” I admitted hoarsely. “So it’s hard to meet people.”

Vince’s dark eyes softened, but he didn’t comment on that. “Right. I still think there might be more to it than that, though. Motivating her, I mean. Maybe something happened with one of your brothers. Or the princess. Like, she threatened to marry someone else instead.”

“Maybe.”

“Is your dad around?” he asked with a frown.

“No. Our father died not long after my younger brother was born. Horse riding accident. Officially, at least.”

Vince’s brows shot up. “So it wasn’t really an accident? What the fuck?”

“Unlikely. Having someone so close to her acting as regent if she ever had to leave the court was too much of a threat to her throne, in her eyes, and as prince consort my father was automatically regent. When she does have to leave, she instead appoints a council of minor dignitaries who have practically no power, just to ensure things still run smoothly.”

“That’s fucking wild. That’s like… medieval shit. I’m sorry.” Vince squeezed my hand. “Were you close with your dad?”

“No. He was a lot like her. He probably would have tried to find a way to usurp the throne if he was still around.”

“Sorry. I won’t keep talking about it.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “The plan is going to work, so it doesn’t matter anyway. She can go fuck herself.”

I managed a weak snort and smiled, before it dropped from my face as I stared at him. I found myself saying, my voice unsteady, “I don’t want to leave, Vince.”

I don’t want to leave you.

His jaw tightened. “You won’t.” He pressed a firm kiss to my mouth. “I’m not letting you. Your mom may think she always wins, but she hasn’t met me yet. I always fucking win.”

—

I ended up dozing off, leaning heavily into Vince’s side on the couch. It felt like all I’d done for the last two days was sleep and cry, but I was still exhausted.

When I woke up, I was lying down with the blanket tucked around me, and I could hear Vince moving around in the kitchen. Rubbing my gritty eyes, I sat up and wiped my face, then pushed the blanket off so I could stand.

Just as I began making my way to the kitchen, I heard Vince hiss.

“Ow! You little fucker.”

Walking faster, I entered the room and Vince stood quickly when he saw me, a blush staining his cheeks.

“I just tried to pet your cat,” he grumbled. “Which was a mistake.”

“Oh. Yes. She’s at least partially evil.”

He glanced over with narrowed eyes at Lady Potato, who was innocently cleaning herself on a dining chair. “What’s her name?”

“Lady Potato.”

He looked at me in disbelief for a second, then snorted.

“She’s a rescue,” I said quickly. “I didn’t name her.”

“I figured.” He lifted his arm to inspect two long scratches on the back of his hand.

I cringed, rushing forward. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good.”

“I think there’s some antiseptic ointment…” I hurried over to the junk drawer and began pulling things out of it to search. Vince wandered over, smoothing a hand up my lower back and kissing my shoulder absently.

Then he chuckled and asked, “Why do you have a letter addressed to Elvis?”

I sucked in a sharp breath and held it, my spine snapping straight. My horrified gaze darted down to the pile of mail I’d pulled out of the drawer.

“I—It’s—”

“Elvis di lue Bluis Uai Dechus,” he read out slowly, trying to get the pronunciation right, then snorted. “That’s great. Is it junk mail?”

I licked my dry lips and tried to think of a response as he picked up the letter, then noticed the one beneath it.

“Wait, this one’s got the same…”

As he trailed off, I cringed and snatched the letter out of his hand, then hastily gathered all the others and shoved them back into the drawer.

Vince slowly looked over at me.

“Is your real name Elvis?”

I cringed again, my face hot and voice husky with embarrassment when I rasped, “It’s… it’s an old noble name in Otherworld. I didn’t realise until I moved here that it…”

His mouth twitched, and he pursed his lips together.

“And ‘di lue Bluis Uai Dechus’ is your surname? Your family name?”

“A complete coincidence,” I said stiffly.

Vince just about managed to suppress a snort, sidling closer to slip his hand under my shirt and nuzzle my hot cheek.

“I like it. Elvis.” He pulled back and grinned at me. “It weirdly suits you. Do you want me to keep calling you Crossbody?”

I wet my lips. “Well, I… If you promise not to laugh at me, you can call me… that.”

“Okay. I will.” His grin widened. “When we’re alone.”

I sagged in relief, trusting that he wouldn’t go and inform all our colleagues. “Thank you.”

“I was trying to make coffee for when you woke up.” He stepped back and gestured at the espresso machine. “But I couldn’t figure out your fancy machine.”

I smiled, finally locating the antiseptic ointment and handing it to him. “I’ll do it. Are you hungry? I can make you something.”

“Not right now, but maybe we can order some dinner later.”

A flush of pleasure heated my cheeks. Did that mean he was staying?

The night?

“Yes, let’s do that.”

“I’ll have to go meet Freddie tomorrow to start talking… logistics, but I could, uh, come back here after.” He shrugged a touch awkwardly. “If you want.”

“Yes,” I said immediately. “If you don’t mind.”

“Okay.” He smiled at me, shifting closer to drop a kiss on the bend of my neck. “And hopefully by Friday, all this will have been dealt with, and we can relax.”

I squirmed, staring at the bag of coffee beans in my hands. “Vince…”

“It’ll work,” he murmured, nuzzling my shoulder.

“I believe you, but… what if they’re delayed for some reason? If I don’t show up at the palace by Friday, she’ll start carrying out her threats. She’ll be ready to do it immediately, to punish me for disobeying her.”

“They know how time-sensitive it is.”

“But still…” I gnawed on my lower lip, abandoning the coffee to face him. “I think… I think I should go back. Just to keep her from doing anything—”

“No,” Vince growled.

“Just in case,” I rushed out, then flushed. “And I think I should… make a public statement. In front of the court. Renounce my title and say I’m not marrying Ianthe. That way, my mother has less motivation to do all this again, because she won’t be able to spin the situation to suit her.”

“I don’t want you going back there.” His brow creased with worry.

“I don’t want to either, but I think I need to do this.” I offered him a hesitant smile. “Take control of the situation a bit. Show her that she doesn’t have the power to make me feel so… small and weak anymore. And if the plan works, she won’t be able to do anything. At least this way, if I initially give the appearance of complying, it will prevent her from carrying out her threats.”

Vince was watching me solemnly. At length, he nodded.

“I’ll come with you.”

I blinked in shock. “What?”

He nodded again. “I’m not letting you go back there alone. I’m coming with you.”

Warmth bloomed in my chest, along with a tiny hint of trepidation. “I don’t think the guards would let you in—”

“We’ll say I’m your…” He looked around for inspiration. “I don’t know. Butler.”

I burst out laughing. “ Butler ?”

He snorted. “Okay, something else. Manservant or something. I don’t know.” He shot me a sly grin. “You can boss me around for once.”

My breath caught, arousal curling through my belly. “But I like being bossed around by you.”

“I’ll still do it when we’re alone.” He grinned and leaned in to nuzzle my mouth. “I can fuck you in your fancy royal bedchambers like the little slut you are.”

“That… that sounds like an excellent idea,” I breathed before he gave me a slow kiss. When it eventually ended, long moments later, I pressed another to his cheek. “Thank you, Vince.”

He shrugged sheepishly. “You know I’m good at taking over shit.”

I huffed in amusement, turning to finally start making us some coffee. “Yes.”

“And my uncle could probably look after the demon cat while we’re gone.” He gestured at Lady Potato as she plucked sleepily at my dining chair, purring loud enough for us to hear from across the room. She was always happiest when she was being destructive.

“He won’t mind?” I asked hesitantly. The only person I could ask for that kind of favour was Corey, and it wasn’t fair to make Cora share her space with an evil cat, even for a few days.

“Nah, not at all. There were, like, five strays at the trailer park and he fed all of them.” Vince stiffened and side-eyed me. “I, uh, grew up in a trailer park.”

I nodded and offered him a smile. I knew what a trailer park was, and I could sense that he’d been hesitant to share that with me, as if he thought I would judge him for it.

Maybe I would have when I’d first moved here, but not now. Never. I didn’t care how Vince had grown up, I didn’t care how different his life had been to mine. None of it changed how I felt about him.

His uncle had raised him well. He was hard-working and determined and loyal.

He was wonderful.