Thorne Princess(15)

Sure, I’d been kind of at odds with my best friend since he’d abandoned me to mingle with Perry Cowen. I hadn’t taken any of his calls after the nip-slip debacle.

No matter. It was time to suck it up and play nice.

I FaceTimed Keller. He picked up immediately, in the middle of a jog, the camera bouncing between his beautiful face and the cloudless blue skies.

“Finally descended from the tree you climbed, I see,” he greeted me warmly.

“Only because the bough’s about to break into a rocky river,” I murmured, remembering the big, surly predator occupying my dining room downstairs.

“Down will come baby. Cradle and all. Am I still in the doghouse?” He rounded the corner of his street.

“That depends on whether you can help me or not.”

“Ultimatums and emotional blackmail. You speak my love language.” He sighed. “Let’s hear it.”

I took a deep breath, then told him about my last few hours. How I spent the morning innocently working on my tan. How Nameless Asshole barged into my house, stole my phone and my car keys, and canceled my credit cards. How he sent Dennis—our Dennis—on paid leave, and scared away the police officers (I may have tweaked some details to fit the overall narrative).

I explained that my parents were not answering me, probably scared of my reaction, and I simply couldn’t live with this heathen of a man for six months. Or six days. Or even six seconds.

When I got to the part where Nameless Asshole picked me up as if I weighed no more than a cardigan and locked me in my room, Keller gasped.

“Horrible, isn’t it.” I sniffed.

“Monstrous.” There was a pause. “And hot. Is he…?”

“Keller! What an inappropriate question.”

When he continued staring at me expectantly, I rolled my eyes. “I guess he is attractive, if you consider Jason Momoa and David Gandy’s hypothetical lovechild handsome. But that doesn’t matter. The man is literally ruining my life. Being hot is not everything in this world, you know.”

“You are right, and I apologize.” My best friend cleared his throat. Finally, he stopped by his front door, collapsing on the welcome mat of his building. “So how do I loop in?”

“I need you to help me scare him away. You scared off all of your former nannies. No one is as good at being unbearable as you.”

“Actually, honey, you give me a run for my money.” Keller laughed. “Besides, my nannies weren’t menacing, alpha-males with probable military background.”

“Not helping!” I moaned, burying my face in my hands.

“All right, let’s make a game plan. Your parents are trying to show you that you’re theirs to mold and reshape. Failure is not an option. You are a strong, independent woman.”

I nodded, taking it all in. I wanted to show my parents they couldn’t spring something on me like this, without consulting me. I hadn’t spoken to them since the nip slip. They’d tried to call dozens of times, but I didn’t pick up. I was scared, and embarrassed, and—okay—feeling a little guilty.

I knew they saw me as a ditzy, silly girl, who shared nothing but DNA with them. They’d viewed me this way for so long, even I’d started to believe it.

“What do I need to make this mission successful?” I asked.

“Guts, motivation, and a working Amazon account.”

“I have at least two out of the three.” Motivation wasn’t my middle name, but I was fired up about the entire situation.

Keller laughed. “Good enough. Grab a pen and paper, and start writing this down.”

I was going to fight back against Nameless Asshole.

And win.





I didn’t go downstairs for dinner.

I couldn’t stomach anything, was too scared to see him again, and didn’t have an appetite.

Oh, and also, my door was still locked from the outside, though I had no idea what magician-slash-bodyguard trick he used to make that happen.

I was a prisoner in my own home. Simple as that.

That night, sleep did not come. I kept thinking about the plan Keller and I had come up with to get rid of Sergeant Scumbag. It seemed juvenile, half-baked. I wasn’t sure it was going to work. But doing something felt better than doing nothing.

Sunrises had always been my best friend. My constant companion in the lonely existence of being Hallie Thorne. They reminded me that every day was new, fresh, and held endless opportunities.

But when the sun rose the day after Nameless Asshole stormed into my life, all I felt was dread and anger.

Hours crawled in succession. I remained completely motionless in my bed processing, plotting, overthinking. Then, for the first time in my life, I heard the telltale signs of another human in the house.

Despite growing up in boarding schools, I’d always lived on my own. I’d never had any roommates. Mom and Dad forbade it. They’d said that confidentiality was key for people like us. That other kids would kill to have their own room, and I should be thankful for the privacy.

They didn’t care that I wanted company, friends, actual relationships.

Relationships were off-limits for me. They posed a security risk. A political risk.

Each year, my parents would email me a curated list of people with whom I could socialize from my class. Every year, the choices not only consisted of, but were limited to, girls who wanted nothing to do with me.