Page 1 of Kings & Queen

Chapter 1

Ivan

In The Garden

June 2008—London, England

The sweet fragrance of blooming flowers filled the air, and the vibrant colors created a stunning tapestry of natural beauty. The sounds of birds chirping and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze should have provided a tranquil atmosphere. However, what was happening right now was anything but peaceful.

“I won’t go. None of you can make me. I swear if you do, you’ll regret it. You should tell Mother that for me,” Vanya screamed, her face contorted in fury while her voice shook. “I’m not going to that stupid treatment group, Ivan. I don’t need help. I can handle this on my own.”

“Youcan’thandle this on your own. That’s the problem. You need help, and there’s nothing wrong with admitting that. We all want to help you, but you have to let us,” I said, trying to be the voice of reason.

Her face softened, and a moment of hope bloomed inside my chest at the look. She’d recently taken a pair of scissors to her hair and chopped it off. The once-black locks that flowed were now butchered in different lengths.

She refused to let our mother take her to get it evened out. The dull look in her blue-green eyes seized my heart in my chest. Oh, how I’d give anything to see them full of life again. Pulling her into my arms, I held her shaking frame. I should have left it alone, but I couldn’t.

“Tell me what happened with Bash last night?”

Sebastian had been obsessed with Vanya from the start, protective of her to a fault over the years. When we were eleven and twelve years old, they had a mock wedding at the beach house. Nik stood as the reverend performing the ceremony, Alek stood beside Sebastian as his best mate, and I walked her down the aisle.

The three of us gave her hand in marriage to our best friend. Hell, they’d already picked out names for their children. That was two years before our world went toshit, and last night, Sebastian had gotten so drunk that he had to go to the hospital to get his stomach pumped. I had found him sobbing in his designated room at our house.

“Don’t, please. It’s not your business.” My sister choked on her own words.

“Like hell it’s not. You’ve pushed him so far away, I don’t understand. He loves you. He’s worried about you, and he doesn’t know how to reach you. Is it true that you let Donovan—”

She erupted in anger so intense it made me step back. “Don’t you fucking say a word to me about who or what I do with my life. It’s my life. If I want to suck the entire rugby team off, I will.”

I shook my head, her statement all the confession I needed. She thought I was judging her when, in all actuality, I was pissed at her for endangering herself. Donovan Finnegan was eighteen years old. Balling my hands into fists, I envisioned smashing them into his pretty-boy face and destroying it forever.

“You know what, Vanya? I can’t do this with you anymore,” I confessed, my voice strained with emotion. “It’s killing me and everyone around you. If you thought for one second I’d be your advocate with Mother and Father, you were wrong.” I raked my fingers through my hair in frustration.

“Whatever. You live in your own little bubble of perfection. You have no idea what I went through, so until you can put yourself in my position, you can go to hell.”

“You’re right. I have no idea what happened.” I softened my tone as her words hit home. “There’s this thing you used to do with me all the time, remember that? You used to talk to me. I have no idea why that had to change.”

“Are you serious right now? You want me to tell you what happened? You want to carry that burden with you? Piss off. You couldn’t handle it, baby brother,” she mocked, rubbing in that I was the youngest.

“No, I won’t piss off.” I raised my voice once more, a rush of emotion spilling forth. “And just so you know, I already carry your burdens because you’re my fucking sister, my other half.” I paused for a moment, breathing through the pain.

Vanya’s eyes shot daggers as she seethed in her own anger, wanting to lash out some more, to cut me deeper. I feared she blamed me, and somewhere deep inside me, I wanted her to shoulder some of the guilt I was holding on to.

“Remember who found you with your wrists slit, pale as paper as you bled out on the bathroom floor?”

She looked me dead in the eye and taunted me. “Everyone deals with their shit in different ways. You survived, poor baby.”

“Yeah, poor baby is right. Maybe you’d like to know that while you were passed out, I was screaming for Nik and Alek because our mother was literally pulling her hair out, thinking she’d just lost her only daughter.” My voice broke as I remembered how our mother looked.

Vanya yawned like she had no idea of the amount of pain that moment caused, but I knew different. We shared that deeper connection, and that was why the last few years had been so damned hard. I was forced to watch my twin wither away, crack, and then emerge a complete stranger. My anger flared, and wanting to lash out, I grabbed her by the shoulders.

“You’re bored with this conversation, huh? Well, maybe I should liven it up a bit for you since you don’t seem to remember. I mean, how could you, right? You were passed out from blood loss. Vanya, you should have seen the color drain from Alek’s face as he stared, not knowing what to do for the first time in his life. Oh, and the stark fucking terror on Nik’s face as he tried to hold our mother.”

Manic laughter erupted from her, fueling me on.

“I was only thirteen, and yeah, if you want to make fun of me, go ahead. I cried like a fucking baby while holding you to my chest, feeling like I was dying right alongside you.”

She shoved my hands off her. Balling up her fists in front of her eyes, she motioned like I was being a crybaby, and I stared in disgust.