The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(18)

Frank…

Well, she wasn’t ready to deal with Frank yet.

Coward.

So what?

She dialed Anderson before she could think too hard about the fact that she’d agreed to be in a fake relationship in order to bring down her father…I’m living in a soap opera. All I need is an evil twin showing up and I’m good to go.

The line barely rang when Anderson answered. “Are you okay?”

Journey sat up. “Yes, I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

His pause spoke volumes. Because you’re a basket case combined with a tub of gasoline just waiting for someone to strike a match to watch you go down in flames. He cleared his throat. “You didn’t answer. I was worried.”

“There’s this thing called sleep. You should try it sometime.” Even if she hadn’t slept much last night. Every time she drifted off, that fucking recurring nightmare slammed into her. Running, always running, weights on her heels, footsteps sounding in pursuit, an enemy closing in behind her. And lining the trail, every single person she knew, none of them stepping forward to help. She always woke up just as hands closed around her upper arms, a scream trapped on the inside of her lips.

But she couldn’t tell Anderson that.

Journey put everything she had into sounding calm and in control. “We can’t focus on the enemy if you’re so concerned about me that you’re letting it distract you.”

“Fuck, Jo, you’re my sister. Of course I’m concerned about you.” Footsteps sounded like he was pacing, probably in his office. “We’ve barely had two seconds to talk since he showed up, but I don’t like this. It’s more than the whole bullshit about declaring people unfit. That’s just a distraction while he does whatever he’s actually here to do.”

Ice cascaded down her spine. She drew her legs up, even though she knew making herself a smaller target never actually worked. “What’s his real goal?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” He cursed. “I’m sorry, Jo. I’m not trying to scare you. I’m just worried he’s going to go after you.”

Her mouth went dry and shivers worked their way through her body. Memories rolled over her, one after another. The edge of a razor blade against her hip, Elliott’s casual voice in her ear warning her to stop shaking. The scream trapped in her throat as she hid with Eliza and Bellamy in the attic and listened to Anderson draw their father away. The hot curling iron.

Say something. You have to say something or he’s going to ignore that childhood promise and then you’re going to lose him.

Her breath hitched, but her voice came out halfway normal. “I can handle it.”

“Jo—”

“I can handle it,” she repeated, sounding like she actually meant it. “Anderson, you have to trust me on this.”

He hesitated for so long, she found herself holding her breath. Finally, he said, “I’m willing to let you play this out how you want, but the second I get proof that you—any of you—are in physical danger, it’s over, Jo. I’m stepping in, and this time I will take care of the situation.”

No way to misunderstand what that meant.

“I understand.” She hesitated. “Anderson?”

“Yeah?”

“What if it really is that simple—that he just plans to take over and stay?”

Only the soft sound of her brother’s breathing let her know he hadn’t hung up. Finally, Anderson said, “I don’t want to see you in the office today. You can work remotely if you’re going to insist on working, but there’s nothing here that requires your presence.”

Journey closed her eyes. That wasn’t an answer, which was an answer in itself. He didn’t know what he’d do any more than she did. Despite everything they’d accomplished since those horrible years trapped in that house, they were still in danger of being outmaneuvered by their worst nightmare.

If she wouldn’t let Anderson act as shield, she could at least remove her presence so he wouldn’t be distracted worrying about her. “Okay. I’ll see you bright and early Monday.”

“Stay safe, Jo.”

“You, too.”

She hung up and stared at her bedroom door. She hadn’t felt safe for months. She looked for the shadow in every light space, never truly letting her guard down.

Except here.

With a locked door between her and the rest of the world, she could settle in. At least in theory.

Journey sighed. Spending the day watching cheesy movies and hiding under her covers sounded like a dream…but it was too close to truly hiding for her pride to handle. There were emails to answer, and she hadn’t done a deep clean of her apartment in too long. Once those unsavory tasks had been conquered, she’d spend an hour or two cooking up a meal to reward herself.

Or maybe that’s just a different kind of hiding.

Shut up.

She took a quick shower and called Samara after she got dressed. Since her friend didn’t pick up, Journey sent a quick text: Phone tag—you’re it. She couldn’t deny the slightest bit of relief that she didn’t have to deal with Samara yet, though. Her friend was one of the smartest women Journey knew, and it would take her all of two minutes to realize something was wrong and rush to her side. It made her smile to think about—she’d do the same for Samara—but Journey wasn’t ready to throw open her closet door and let the skeletons out. Samara didn’t see her as damaged goods now. Maybe she wouldn’t even if she knew the truth.