Page 116 of False Comeback

“I don’t want to,” he told me unsteadily. “I’m sorry for not answering the phone. I… Vince, there are things I want to say to you, but I…”

My heart was pounding. “Say them now.”

“There’s no point.” He tugged his hands free and rubbed his flushed, wet cheeks again, turning back to the dresser. His voice was wooden when he said, “I have to marry Ianthe.”

Something ugly and overwhelming surged through me, making my entire body stiffen. “Who the fuck is Ianthe?”

“The Summer Court princess,” he said dully. “I’ve only met her a few times. Barely spoken to her. But that’s who my mother’s decided I’m to marry.”

“Why the fuck does she get to decide that?”

“Because she’s the queen. And she wants me to produce heirs. My older brother can’t have children, so it’s my job.”

“Having children or getting married shouldn’t be a fucking job.”

“I know,” he said quietly, pulling more clothes out of the dresser. “But what I want doesn’t matter to her.”

“Crossbody, stop.” I tugged the clothes out of his hands again, panic making me a little light-headed. “She can’t force you to do any of that. You’re a fucking adult. You have a life here.”

His breath shuddered out of him. “But I won’t have one if I don’t do it. So there’s no point staying.”

“What do you mean?” I asked roughly. “What does that mean?”

“She came to tell me that she’ll take everything from me if I don’t go back.”

Anger made me start to shake. “Did she threaten you?”

He shuddered. “Not just me. Goliaths, too. Holt. All of you.” Looking up at me with big, tearful eyes, he shook his head as his mouth trembled. “I’m not going to let her do anything to you, Vince, so it’s safest if I just go. That’s why I haven’t come in.”

I exhaled slowly and scrubbed at my face, trying to calm down enough to think. Crossbody was too worked up to think rationally right now. Clearly, whatever his mother had threatened him with had been enough to make him agree to her demands, despite how much he obviously didn’t want to.

There was no fucking way I was letting this happen. Any of it. Him leaving when he didn’t want to. Abandoning the life he’d built for himself. Giving up the job he loved.

Marrying someone he didn’t want. Didn’t even know.

I took his hands again and led him over to the bed so we could sit. I was going to stop this. I was going to fix it.

“Tell me everything she said.”

—

By the time Crossbody stopped talking, I was so fucking furious I was struggling to maintain my composure. I managed it for his sake, even though he seemed a little calmer now, like repeating the whole terrible conversation out loud had let him process it a bit.

Or fully resign himself.

“Okay,” I said firmly, cupping his face and leaning in to kiss his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “We can fix this. I’m going to fix this.”

“How?” he mumbled, his back hunched as he picked at the hem of his shirt.

I already had the start of a potentially ridiculous idea, but I didn’t want to get his hopes up unnecessarily in case it didn’t work out.

“First, let’s get you in the shower, huh?” I stood and helped him up. “You’ll feel better. Have you eaten?”

“A bit.” He rubbed his eye, looking exhausted both physically and emotionally. It made my chest ache, and I shifted closer to slip my arms around him and kiss his neck, keeping my face pressed there.

“I’m not going to let this happen to you,” I told him hoarsely, and felt him shudder against me.

“It’s not your responsibility,” he mumbled.