Page 92 of Phobia

I laughed, and laughed, andlaughed.

My heart was lighter than it had ever been before.

We passed through the gap in the wall and immediately the sights and sounds of the market exploded around us in full swing. Oliver’s hand in mine was sweaty and slick, and his movements were slow as we made our way through the large crowd. Colorful booths lined the boardwalk, creatures, aliens, and humans of all social classes wandering around as they munched on treats, and carried bags full of eclectic wares. I could not hide my grin. Oliver glanced around, like he’d never seen this place before, even though I knew that he had. His smile back was tentative and wobbly, then it died all together as he spotted something in the crowd that had him frozen stiff.

“Shit.” Oliver hissed out a breath, and I paused, glancing at him in confusion. “I think that’s Lord Rivera—”

“My—” I glanced up, eyes widening as a man that looked suspiciously like my father pushed his way toward us.

Oliver dropped my hand like it had burned him, and immediately it felt cold and bereft now that it was empty.

“Oliver, wait—”

There was a weird, squirming anxiety in my gut.

“I’ll meet you at your house,” he promised, eyes bright. My father’s figure loomed closer and closer. Soon, he’d see us talking and we’d— “I know the way. Everyone knows where Rivera Manor is.”

I eyed him warily, though my pulse was racing, and the bustle of the crowd was not at all helping with my nerves. Before they met I’d need to explain everything to Alana. If she was on my side there was no reason for Father to punish Oliver and I— “Are you—?”

“I’m sure.” Oliver flashed me a brighter, obviously fake smile.

Confused. I wasconfused.

“Goodbye, Henry. Thank you. For everything.” His seaglass eyes glittered. He leaned in quick, his warm lips brushing against the corner of my jaw before he moved behind me, brushing along my back, before darting into the crowd.

I watched him go, my heartbeat thundering as something sick and wrong settled deep inside me. I had a feeling I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life, letting him go like that. I should’ve held on tight. Should’ve shackled him to me.

“Henry,” Father’s voice was a balm on my weary soul as I turned toward him. He’d finally arrived. “I thought you’d be at the harbor this morning.” Oliver had left at exactly the right moment. Perfectly timed. So why did it feel wrong?

Obviously, no one had said anything about the night before to him, so I played along for the time being, my heart fluttering as my father slapped my arm gently. “I had a late shift,” I told him, still feeling wrong-footed. “Only heading home now.”

“I see.” He smiled at me, his dark eyes warm. “Only two more weeks, my boy.” He nodded his head. “You’re doing great. I’m proud of you. It takes a good man to admit that he’s made a mistake and then atone without complaint. Your mother would be proud.”

I nodded and smiled, though the smile felt wooden. Father’s guards stood behind him, stoic as ever, silent, like they weren’t people but extensions of him. Extra limbs. “Have Toby take you home.” Father jerked his head toward the guard to his left. “You look exhausted. You never know what kind of trouble you’ll run into in a crowd like this when you’re not at your best.”

I bobbed my head again, silent as Toby slipped behind my back—never beside me—and we made our way up the hill toward the towncar that awaited. I hadn’t realized the distance I felt with other people, till I’d spent the night pressed tight to Oliver. I was just a man, when I was with him. Not the heir to the Rivera legacy. My father’s son.

As I slid into the back seat, unease niggled at the back of my mind. It felt as though I’d missed something. The leather squeaked as my hands clenched into fists. I wanted to hit something. To…to…

To see Oliver again.

“Hungry, sir?” Toby offered with a smile from the driver seat. Toby had always been the friendliest of Father’s guards. He’d been with our family since I was a young boy. I’d had many memories at this very market with him, always five steps behind, his friendliness familiar. Even though he was my favorite, I couldn’t even muster up the energy to smile back. Maybe I reallywasas tired as Father said I looked. “No I—”

“Just a snack,” he promised, clearly sensing my need to get home. I didn’t want to argue—couldn’t actually, without looking suspicious. We pulled into a drive through and I stared at the menu for what felt like a million years before I selected a simple offering of eggs and toast. After a moment of deliberation, I had them double the order in anticipation of feeding Oliver when we arrived.

He’d be on foot, so it would take him longer.

But I knew he’d be hungry.

Cook was a wizard when it came to reheating take-out, so I wasn’t worried it would get too cold.

The buzzing of a spaceship taking off drowned out Toby’s voice as he placed our order, and I mused to myself while I waited. I’d always made a point to pay for my own things, even though really, it was my father’s money I was using. It was the principle of the thing. Independence was important. So when we pulled up to the window to pay I didn’t hesitate to reach into my back pocket to retrieve my wallet. It was second nature.

Only.

There was no wallet.

There. Was. No. Wallet.