Chapter 33: Vicious Prince: Chapter 33

Fuck.

Fucking, fuck.

Okay, maybe if I could get that word out of my immediate thoughts, I could actually think straight and function.

Fuck!

I jump to my feet and storm to the kitchen, crumpling the letter Teal left me in my fingers and shoving it in my pocket. I couldn’t get her words out of my head even if I tried. There’s this constant sound that won’t end or stop.

The weeping of a small girl.

My breathing deepens at the thought of what happened to her and the way her voice, her tears, and her feelings were stolen.

It wasn’t only her innocence; it was her life essence. No wonder she built walls and forts and did everything possible to stay away.

I’m nothing in comparison. I had my parents, even if they were absentee. She had no one. Her only parent was a monster.

And now, she thinks my father is also a monster.

He’s not.

Edric and I might have some issues — okay, a lot, and all of them have to do with his stiff personality and the way he stole Mum away from me — but he’s not a paedophile.

He’s not sick.

Besides, he was too busy with Mum during the time frame Teal described. He didn’t go to Birmingham, and he never spent ten minutes away from Mum.

I know, because I hated him at the time. I hated how he wouldn’t let me stay in Mum’s room. I always thought he was controlling her, but it turns out he was only respecting her wish.

However, I do know who went to Birmingham on Dad’s behalf. I know who took care of the business and used the Astor name as he saw fit.

He sits on the counter in the kitchen. He hasn’t left, of course. If Dad says he wants to have a word with him and there’s a possible new business venture, Eduard the fucker mopes around like a dog waiting for a bone.

Lars notices me first and cuts off his one-sided glare towards Eduard. The latter is nose-deep in his English scones and bacon.

Lars has never hidden the fact that he doesn’t like Eduard, but since he never actually confirmed what happened that night, he couldn’t be Dad’s informant. Not to mention the fact that I would’ve fucking murdered him if he’d spilt my secret to Dad without my knowledge.

He already has fewer brownie points for hiding Mum’s sickness.

Eduard lifts his head from his plate and maintains eye contact. Soon enough, a glint shines in his bland green eyes and his giddiness comes out to play.

He’s always acted that way around me, as if I’m a puppy he lost and he wants it back at any price.

For a second, there’s this urge to grab the kitchen knife and jam it straight into his eyes and poke them the fuck out.

Or his intestine.

This fucker didn’t only ruin my life, he also destroyed Teal’s. I might have been ready to forget about me for my parents’ sakes, but Teal is another story altogether.

Teal will be the reason for his fucking demise.

“Morning, dear nephew—”

I jam my fist straight into his nose. He shrieks and tumbles from the chair, causing the plate to clatter on the counter.

Before he can get his footing back, I punch him again. He wails, clutching his bleeding nose. “What the fuck is wrong with you—”

I shut him up with another fist to his face. “That’s for me.” Punch. “For every fucking time I felt disgusting in my own skin.” Punch. “For betraying my parents’ trust.” Punch. “For all the times I had those nightmares and thought the world was an empty hole like that night.”

He’s on the ground by the time I’m finished with him. He splutters on his own blood, and it drips from his nose and mouth, mixing with his spit and pooling on the marble ground. “R-Ronan…” He chokes on his words. “It was a long time ago. I haven’t done it since then. I-I promise.”

“How about the little girl in Birmingham?” My voice is cold, so cold I sound almost like Dad. “Remember her?”

“W-What?” Eduard is on all fours like the fucking animal he is, so when he stares up at me with confused eyes and blood marring his features, I almost believe he doesn’t remember.

I almost believe he didn’t do it.

But the thing about Eduard is, he’s a fucking liar. He’s perfected it so well, going unnoticed in a crowd. He’s the monster you never see until he’s squeezing you between his claws, ready to rip you apart.

It could be because I’d already seen his monster image, but Eduard hasn’t fooled me since that night.

There’s this sick spark in his eyes as if he’s living the violation all over again, enjoying it, finding gratification in the memory.

And for that reason alone, I’m so close to jamming a knife in his fucking heart — that is, if he had one.

“Birmingham, Eduard. Fucking Birmingham.” I kick his stomach, making him topple over. When he tries to get up, I kick him again until a crunch of bones echoes in the air.

He wails, “Lars, you fucking idiot, stop him.”

In a second, Lars appears by my side, and I’m ready to punch him too if he so much as tries to get in my way.

Lars, however, has his neutral, snobby expression on as he gives me a napkin. “You got filthy blood on your hands, young lord.”

“L-Lars!” Eduard shrieks then it ends on an oomph when I kick him in the ribs.

“This was long overdue.” Lars steps aside. “I’m here if you need any assistance.”

“O-Okay, okay! Stop!” Eduard crawls away from me, hiding behind a chair like a small kid with issues. “The only ones I touched in Birmingham were fucking whores. They didn’t matter.”

“Whores?” I repeat. “In what universe are children considered whores?”

“Their mother was selling them. Besides, I didn’t have intercourse or force that kid to touch me like with the others. She had it easy — why the fuck are you bitching about it? I didn’t kidnap and rape her.” He scoffs. “I’m a proper gentleman.”

I lift the chair and bring it down on his head, making it splinter into pieces. He falls limp on the ground, blood oozing from a wound in his nape.

I’m breathing so harshly I can’t even make out what I’ve done.

Is he dead?

Did I kill him?

The moment he spoke about her like that, I couldn’t stop myself. There was an urge and then there was only one course of action.

Lars kneels beside him, checking his neck with his white gloves. “He just passed out. His pulse is steady.”

My jaw clenches, and for a moment, I have the urge to finish him off once and for all, but before I can do that, Teal needs to know the truth.

She has the wrong brother. Dad was never a criminal, even if he housed one.

I call her, but she doesn’t pick up. Not again. Fuck.

I curse under my breath, but then my phone vibrates.

Knox.

I’ve never answered so quickly in my life. “Do you know where Teal went?”

“No.” He sounds agitated. “But she took my car and left me this fucking note saying she loves me and she’s sorry. Teal doesn’t say that, mate. Besides, Agnus just told me he gave her some paralysing drug.”

That fucker.

“She was acting weird last night,” he continues. “I shouldn’t have left her alone.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll find her.” I pace the length of the kitchen. “Any ideas where she could be?”

“No, but I have a GPS tracker on my car, or rather Dad does so he can locate me whenever he wants. I’ll send you the signal — it’s closer to you.”

Thank God.

“What do you plan to do with him? His blood is messing up my kitchen,” Lars asks after I hang up on Knox. He’s glaring down at Eduard as if he’s mentally sharpening the best knife in his collection so he can drive it into his chest.

“Do you have a rope?” I ask.

He smiles. “Of course, sir.”

I hope I’m not too late.

Don’t do it, Teal. Don’t make this mistake.