Royally Not Ready(17)

Keller steps up and says, “Lara has informed us of your indifference toward working out this morning. But it’s required of them, and I like to stay in top, physical form as well.”

Yes, well, that’s obvious from the man-cleavage I had the privilege of staring at on the airplane.

“I’m well aware of everyone’s desires to stay physically fit, but I need to warn you—I am not in tune with my lung capacity when it comes to running. Therefore, there might be a lot of walking in your future.”

Brimar and Lara exchange worried glances. “I’ll stay back with her,” Keller says. “I know you two have a routine.”

“Ah, a nuisance and a white knight.” I pat Keller on the shoulder. “An all-around catch for the ladies.” I gesture toward the door. “Shall we get this torture over with?”

Together, we all exit the castle, and Brimar locks up with some special device I’ve never seen before. Here I was expecting a fresh-from-the-iron skeleton key, but this device is high tech, utilizing a keycode, beeping sound, and laser.

So, we can have a spaceship laser key, but the doors in the bathroom can’t shut properly. Yup, makes sense.

Brimar pockets the laser thing, and then, like someone just hit the start button, Brimar and Lara take off in a run.

And so does Keller.

Wait, what about a warmup? Stretching? Maybe a moment to procrastinate?

“You coming?” he asks, looking over his shoulder.

“Yes, but I expected a warmup. These old limbs haven’t worked like this in a while.” I gesture to my legs.

“You’re twenty-seven, there is nothing old about you.”

“Tell that to the bunion on my big toe.”

Ew, why did I just say that?

From the wretched look on Keller’s face, I can tell he’s thinking the same thing.

“It was a joke,” I say as I catch up to him, my body aching everywhere as I try to pump the gas. Come on, body. Get moving. Wake up. “There’s no bunion.” He doesn’t say anything but continues forward. “I do have calluses, though. Rough and crusty when not treated. Do you have any?”

“No,” he answers.

Ha, okay.

“So, I’m to believe that if I took your shoe off, I couldn’t use the bottom of your foot to shave my leg?”

“No.”

“Do you have secret soft baby feet I’m not aware of?”

“Yes.”

“You are such a fucking liar,” I huff out, trying to keep pace. But he doesn’t say anything after that and with the heavy workload on my lungs, I decide to end the conversation. Best save all the strength I have and not waste it on battling him about his feet.

We all know he’s lying. There’s no way he has soft baby feet.

I turn my attention to the gravel road in front of us.

From the drive in yesterday, I noticed that, although the terrain’s a beautiful shade of green with rolling hills, there is a lack of trees. Not one in sight, and along the rocky edge of the coastline are black rocks with jagged tips. The kind of rock you don’t want to be washed up on. But the water, it’s such a beautiful blue, and the crash of the waves gives me some peace of mind, reminding me of home.

“You’re falling behind,” Keller says, pulling my attention back to the current state of misery I’m in.

I pick up my pace and don’t say anything, because not only can I barely breathe, but I don’t know what to say.

I don’t even know what to think. This isn’t what I expected. Any of it. I truly thought I was coming here to meet my grandparents and find out more about my mom, but the moment I stepped on that plane, everything has been hush-hush. No one is telling me what’s going on and . . . oh . . . my . . . God . . .

I stop dead in my tracks as the last twenty-four hours of events flash through my mind.

The secrecy.

The weird castle.

The whole not leaving me alone thing . . .

“What are you doing?” Keller asks as he annoyingly jogs in place.

“Am I . . . am I a captive?”

“What?” he asks, stopping now and resting his hands on his hips.

“I’ve been captured, haven’t I? That’s why I can’t be alone in the castle, because you’re afraid I’ll run away.” It’s all making sense now. “Well, guess what, buddy, we’re in the middle of fucking lava land, my cell phone is conveniently not working, and I have nowhere to go or anyone to call. I’m in my worst nightmare. I’ve been stolen!”

Keller pinches his brow and mutters, “Jesus Christ.” He then looks at me and says, “If you want to leave, tell me the word. I’ll get you on a plane quicker than you can change out of that outfit. We are not holding you captive. This isn’t a fictional storyline you’ve created in your head.”

“This isn’t what I signed up for.”

“Me either, but we’re fucking here, so make the most of it,” he huffs out, and can I just take a moment to admire the way he said fucking? It sounds so delicious with his British-sounding accent. And it pains me to admit that, given our disagreeable nature, but it did sound really nice.

“Fine,” I say as I walk up to him. “But you need to slow down on your pace unless you feel like giving me a piggyback ride all the way back to the castle.”