Royal Games (The Royals of Monterra) (19 page)

So going to Iowa City had led to a nexus of crap—it left us stranded in the middle of a snowstorm, without a phone to call for help, and it had made me even more confused on where things stood with Rafe.

All in all, not a good night.

He rested his forehead on one of his hands. I knew that gesture. He was severely stressed. My hand reached out of its own volition, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s just a phone. You can replace it.”

“It’s not that. The phone itself doesn’t matter. It’s what’s on the phone that’s the problem.”

That hadn’t even occurred to me. If someone ever stole my phone, it would be no big deal. But I wasn’t royalty. I didn’t have my family’s privacy to protect the same way that he did. He probably had pictures and videos on there that he would not like to share with the entire world.

“That sucks.”

He straightened up, and I ordered my hand back to my lap. “It’s password protected. Unless he knows exactly what he’s doing, he shouldn’t be able to get access. Hopefully he had no idea who I was. My security team should be able to find it and get it back.”

“How?”

“There’s a tracker on my phone. Behind the battery,” he said absentmindedly.

I couldn’t help myself. I pulled out my phone, taking off the back panel and lifting out the battery.

“What are you doing?”

“I wanted to make sure you hadn’t put a tracker on my phone.” I reassembled the device and slid it back into my clutch. Because I wouldn’t have put it past him.

It made me suspicious that he didn’t look insulted. “Did you consider tracking my phone?”

Several beats passed before he said, “After the postcard. Yes.”

“Okay, promise me you won’t do that. No trackers.” It felt creepy. I didn’t want someone always knowing where I was.

His jaw clenched, but he said, “I promise you I won’t put a tracker on your phone.”

Good.

“Okay,” he started, thinking out loud. “Best-case scenario, in the next hour or so my men will come looking for me. The problem is when they activate the tracker, it will lead them into Iowa City. The weather’s so bad they may not see our car on the opposite side of the road.”

“And we won’t have enough gas to keep the car going for that long,” I added as I pointed at the gauge. The needle was down past empty.

“What?” he said, following my gaze. He slammed both of his hands against the wheel, making me jump. He uttered what Mr. Spock referred to as “colorful metaphors.”

“
Che brutto!
That was so stupid of me! I can’t believe we’re going to run out of gas!”

It wasn’t typical for him to slip into Italian. He must really be upset.

Then, as if on command and as if to prove that the universe really was conspiring against me, the engine sputtered and died.

He turned the key in the ignition, trying to start it up again. No response. He hit the wheel again, then the anger seemed to empty out and he leaned forward. “I’m sorry. I was just so focused on . . . other things.”

“You were concentrating on the road and the storm,” I said. “It happens.”

“I should have checked the gas before we left. I wanted to keep you safe, and all I did was put you in more danger.” He sounded so dejected.

We couldn’t stay here and hope his bodyguards would find us. It would take them a long time to drive into the city because of the storm, and even longer to figure out what had happened to us and find Rafe’s car. I had experienced enough of these kinds of snowstorms to know that people had frozen to death in them when they were stranded. Or didn’t have heat.

I knew where we could find heat and shelter. It would just really suck to get there. But what other choice did we have?

If I was going to die, it was not going to be in some SUV, waiting for help. Even if I had to march into the freezing night in my cocktail dress and flats.

I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Chapter 19

“Max has a cabin up here, near the lake,” I told him. “The road to get there is half a mile north, and then it’s another mile out to the cabin. He keeps it stocked, so we’ll be able to stay there and keep warm until they find us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure. Amanda had a lot of parties up here in high school, and we used that broken mile marker to know when to turn off. You can see it easily when there’s no snow.”

He sighed. “Then that’s what we’ll have to do. Is there a landline there?”

“No. He wanted it to be off the grid.” I hoped I still had all of my toes when this was over.

“We can’t go like this. Stay here.”

He zipped up his coat and got out of the car again. This time when he opened his door and the frigid air blew in, it made me scared. This was serious. Life-and-death stuff. He popped up the trunk, and the wind pushed against my hair, icing my exposed skin. I tugged my shawl tighter around my shoulders, but it didn’t do me much good.

A red glow reflected in my mirror. I turned around, hopeful that it was a police car, but I quickly realized that it was from the flares Rafe had set around the car. He slammed the rear hatch shut and jogged around to his door. He threw a bag and some blankets to me. For the second time that night, he shook the snow from his hair, and he had to blow on his hands, rubbing them together because there was no more heat coming in. He pushed the button to turn on his hazard flashers. The snow fell even thicker and faster, and it reflected the pulsating lights and the red glow of the flares.

“That’s my workout bag. I keep it in the car in case I feel like going for a run. There’s a pair of sweats for you to put on. You give me the hoodie, and I’ll give you my coat.”

“I can’t—” I started to protest.

“For once, don’t argue. There’s a pair of socks and shoes in there, as well. You’ll have to put them on. They’ll be too big, but it’s better than what you have on.”

Nodding meekly, I climbed into the backseat. The windows had started to fog up. I had the jarring memory of the sheriff knocking on our car windows when we were teenagers and threatening to call our parents because we were parking and making out. I would have given anything for the sheriff to show up right then.

As I unzipped the bag I watched Rafe in the mirror, wondering if he might sneak a peek. Ever the gentleman, he didn’t. I pulled up the sweats, tugging the string at the waist as tightly as I could and knotting it in place. I passed the hoodie up to him, and he took off his coat, giving it to me.

I was so anxious and scared that I didn’t even pay attention to the masculine scent that seemed imbued in every fiber, or how warm his body had made the coat inside.

Okay, maybe I paid a little attention.

His running shoes were like big clown shoes on my feet, so I tied them as tightly as I could. I’d probably still get snow inside them, but they were much better than the flats I was wearing. I wanted to inappropriately giggle at the thought that Rafe was like a grown-up Boy Scout with his blankets and extra clothes and flares. I didn’t have any of that stuff in my truck, and I knew better. He had grown up in a place where it snowed constantly, so I probably shouldn’t have been surprised.

While I got changed, he pulled something out of the glove compartment. I saw that it was a pen and some paper. He was leaving a note. He asked me to repeat the directions, and he wrote them down. He put the note on his seat and then climbed into the back with me, bringing the blankets.

He sat close, pulling me against him. I didn’t protest or try to move. Logically, I knew we could conserve body heat this way. Emotionally, I wanted to be held.

“The flares will last for about fifteen minutes. Let’s stay here and see if anyone comes along. If not, well, we’ll get a chance to get good and warmed up before we head out.”

That almost made it worse. It would be terrible and shocking to go from this heat and coziness out into the frigid cold. Sort of like knowing what it was like to fall in love with Rafe and then realizing I couldn’t be with him.

He rubbed my upper arm even though I wasn’t cold yet. It was a reassuring touch, but I wasn’t very reassured.

I could feel the edge of the cold in the air around us, as the car got slightly colder with each passing minute. Pretty soon it would be as cold in here as it was out there. The snow seemed to get heavier and thicker, enclosing the car in a white tomb. The silence was eerie. The world had become too still.

My claustrophobia started to creep in as the snow piled up against the windshield.
We will be fine,
I had to keep telling myself.
Rafe will keep me safe
.

He would. I knew he would.

“Maybe I was wrong about that whole no bodyguard thing,” I said, as an apology. Just in case.

“You’re only admitting you were wrong because you think we’re going to die.” He was teasing, and that made me feel slightly better.

Right up until my subconscious mind decided to terrify me. “The stuff that happened in the city—do you think it was deliberate? Did John-Paul do this?” I tried to remember the man who’d run into Rafe and the one I’d seen next to the car, but I hadn’t paid them much attention.

He sat quietly next to me, not answering right away. “Nothing’s impossible, but it seems unlikely. If his plan was to stop us or slow us down, then where is he?”

He sounded rational and reasonable, but he didn’t know John-Paul the way that I did. I could believe that he would orchestrate something like this. It put me even more on edge.

The car’s clock showed that our time was up. The fifteen minutes had passed too quickly. “Time to go,” he said. He reached into the pocket of his coat, brushing my side as he pulled out a pair of gloves. “I’m going to wear these. Keep your hands in the pockets or inside the sleeves.”

He wrapped a blanket around my head, telling me to keep my face as covered as I could as he knotted it in place. He zipped up his hoodie and took my shawl, wrapping it around his head and covering his nose and mouth. He took one blanket for his body and gave me the other.

“It’s like we’re going out into the ice world of Hoth,” I said, earning me a combination grimace and smile from him. “Hey, do you know what the internal temperature of a tauntaun is?”

“What?” He fastened his blanket in place.

“Luke-warm.”

He gave me a real smile. “That was a little ‘Forced.’”

Not a single one of my friends would have understood my joke, let alone been able to respond in kind. “How about this one? Where do Sith lords shop? At Darth Mall. Where all the prices are cut in half.”

“We can’t stay here,” he said gently, picking up on my nervousness and my obvious delay tactics. Leaning across me, he opened the door. “Let’s go.”

The wind and snow slammed into us, cutting across my exposed skin like sharpened little knives. I jumped out, and Rafe was right behind me. He figured out which way the wind was blowing and then stood in front of me at that angle, trying to give me as much protection as he could.

My nose started to run, and the wind blew up the edges of the blanket around me. I had my hands in the coat’s sleeves, but in order to keep the blanket seams closed together, I had to keep slipping my fingers out. And they quickly turned into frozen hot dogs, feeling too stiff to move.

We were walking quickly, knowing the movement would help keep us warm. I started to lose track of time, and I didn’t know how long we’d been walking when we finally found the road to the cabin. Turning west, Rafe shifted his position to just behind me, again blocking the wind with his broad frame. My own personal Han Solo keeping me safe from the storm.

I tried to keep my breathing shallow as the cold lined my throat, my airway, and the inner lining of my lungs. It hurt to breathe. Whenever I did breathe too deeply, I would cough.

The glacial wind made my eyes water, making it difficult to see. I put my head down, concentrating on taking one step at a time. I could feel the cold on my scalp, even through the blanket. I seriously missed the long, quilted, puffy coat I’d left at home, which would have protected me.

Icicles stabbed at my blood cells. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this cold. We had been walking for forever, and I briefly worried that we might have gone the wrong way. With all this blinding whiteness, it would be very easy to get lost. I hoped we didn’t end up out on the lake. It might not have had time to freeze over yet.

The snow and the storm was unending, and as I’d predicted, snow was getting into my shoes, making my socks wet. My teeth chattered in response, but all I could do was push forward. We couldn’t go back.

The cold was starting to feel like a burn, singeing me all over. I knew that was very bad. I increased my pace and wondered how it was possible to be both frozen and sweating at the same time.

I saw a big lump on the landscape, covered in snow. I went over and reached out, using my sleeve to brush the snow away. It was the old rusted truck Max kept on blocks near his cabin.

“We’re almost there,” I said with relief, instantly regretting the words as the cold rushed into my mouth, making my teeth sting.

Finally, after what felt like an actual eternity, the cabin came into view. “Is there a key somewhere?” Rafe asked.

“It won’t be locked.”

We stepped onto the porch at the same time with Rafe muttering under his breath about people who didn’t take security seriously. Just as I’d predicted, the knob turned.

He ushered me in, closing the door tightly. “Are there light switches?”

“No electricity,” I told him. “Off the grid, remember?”

I heard the sound of something being knocked over and Rafe saying some words he probably shouldn’t have said in mixed company.

I let my blanket drop and unwrapped the other one from around my head. I put my hands out in front of me and walked until I hit the couch. Running my hand along the back, I headed for the kitchen, managing not to stumble over anything.

“I found the fireplace,” Rafe said. “With my toes.”

I ran my hand over the countertops and stopped at the sink. There. “And I found a Coleman lantern!” Max typically used kerosene lamps at his place, but I was worried that given the personal beef the universe seemed to have with me, I’d end up burning the whole cabin down. This one was an LED light that ran on batteries. I turned the knob, and light filled the cabin.

Taking the lantern from me, Rafe increased the light output and walked over to the bedroom area. He took off his hoodie, throwing it on the bed. He opened the armoire and found some dry clothes there. “We need to change.”

Then he pulled off his shirt. The image of his wet hair and bare chest sparked a memory inside me.

The memory of the night I found out he was a liar.

Toward the end of the reality show, when there was only me, Lemon, and Evil Abigail left, we were supposed to be invited to have an overnight date in the Romance Room.

But the show had changed it up. Instead of it being a sure thing, we had been told by the host that we might or might not receive invitations. Then they separated us into different bedrooms so that none of us would know who had been asked and who had not. I didn’t even have my things. A production assistant brought me some out-of-date magazines, but I couldn’t read them.

All I cared about was whether or not I got an invitation. Would he invite me? Would I go? I mean, there was a certain understanding about what happened in those rooms. Did I want all of America assuming that we’d slept together? Did I want the show to use it as a promotional tool? I could already hear the announcer’s voice: “Tune in tonight to find out whether or not Genesis is still a virgin!”

But as time went on, I realized that there was no invitation. Which either meant that he didn’t intend to invite me or he had asked another girl to go with him.

Something was happening downstairs. It was muted, but I heard voices. One of the girls must have been asked. A girl who was not me. I lay down on the bed, putting my arm over my eyes. My chest ached, and the room seemed to spin in circles.

Did he not feel the same way about me? Whenever we were together, it felt right. Like we were, I don’t know, destined or something.

He never said he loved you.

That made me sit straight up. And I had never told him that I loved him!

One reason I hadn’t was that I didn’t want to scare him off. Half the women on this show had probably already sworn their undying devotion to him. And the other reason was that it took me a long time to figure out that what I felt was love.

Maybe he was feeling that same way that I was. Maybe he was wondering where I stood. Maybe he thought Lemon or Abigail liked him more.

I had seen girls at the end get sent home because they refused to open up and tell the suitor how they really felt.

I would not be one of those girls.

Rummaging around in the desk, I quickly found pink stationery and a pen. It was easier to write than I might have imagined. The words flowed out of me as I told him that I loved him. That I could see a life with him. That even if he was a prince, we would find a way to make it work. Maybe we could spend half the year in Monterra and half the year in Iowa.