Page 55 of The First Taste

I am not sure what to expect, but Keir puts his foot down on the gas pedal, practically racing once he can see the school. As we pull up in the neatly manicured driveway, my eyes are glued to the building itself. White limestone makes up most of the exterior walls and the whole building is flanked by the dark green forest. All in all, it’s a very arresting building with a large domed entryway and two twin flags just on either side of the doorway.

Before I know it, Keir is throwing the car into park and storming up to the entrance. I take my time getting my seatbelt off and climbing out of the car. He stops and looks back, impatiently beckoning toward me.

I flush as I hurry forward, eyeing him. He is still dressed in what I have come to think of as his uniform: crisp white shirt, dark suit, dark tie. With his hair carefully slicked back and his blue eyes radiating anger, I have to admit that he is pretty damn hot.

For an asshole, anyway.

Straightening my dress, I swallow and hurry up the steps after him. When I hit the landing, Keir is already raising his voice, addressing a man in a blue suit with a yellow bowtie who looks like the picture of a college professor if you looked him up in the dictionary.

“Now, Lord Grayrose,” the man is saying. He holds his hand up to stop Keir in his tracks but Keir only looks as if the man’s words are adding fuel to his already high burning fire.

“Dr. Martin,” Keir says, his voice rising in pitch. “Bring me to Isla right now or I will be forced to do something drastic. You don’t want to mess with me on this.”

Dr. Martin swallows and bows slightly, running his finger around his neck line. “I think we should talk before I bring you to see her. She’s had behavioral problems before. But nothing that rose to this level. I’m afraid that we’re going to have to have some serious consequences for this. We can’t tolerate bullying and it’s not fair to Isla or to the other students to let them think that this behavior goes unnoticed by the adults.”

Keir stays contorted with rage. He lurches forward toward Dr. Martin, who at the last moment jumps out of the doorway. Keir continues right through it and I chew on my lip as I follow. Dr. Martin glances at me, frowning a little, and then hurries after Keir. The entryway opens into a long hallway on either side of the door, rows of white walls and classroom doors on one side and black school lockers on the other.

“Where is she, Martin?” Keir bellows. “Isla!”

“Lord Grayrose, if you will just listen to me for a moment…” Dr. Martin calls after him.

A door opens at the end of the hall and Isla runs out, fully in tears. She’s wearing her long gray skirt and a preppy gray t-shirt, looking every bit the Catholic school girl. Her hair streams behind her as she bolts towards us, seeing Keir and knowing that her sanctuary is here.

Keir kneels down and opens his arms, catching Isla. She is sobbing a little bit as he picks her up and presses her face into his shoulder. He shoots an imperious gaze at me and then glares at Dr. Martin.

“This isn’t over,” Keir sneers. “You’ll be hearing from my attorney.”

Dr. Martin swallows, but takes a deep breath. “Isla cannot be allowed to bully other children. Taking her out of school like this is not going to solve her problem. If anything, it will probably make her worse.”

Keir looks so angry that he could literally spit. I step in, putting myself between Keir and Dr. Martin, trying to ease the tension. “Thank you, Dr. Martin. We are hearing what you’re saying. We will take your suggestions seriously. Right, Keir?”

Keir’s face twitches. Instead of answering me, he spins on his heel, Isla sobbing softly in his arms. He marches out of the hall and heads down the stairs. I am left awkwardly bowing to Dr. Martin and scurrying after them, my mind whirling.

I want to ask Isla what happened. But she is obviously upset, crying and throwing a full-blown tantrum once he buckles her into the backseat. So, I look out the window and start to piece a few more pieces of their puzzle together.

Still it leaves me with a lot of questions. Namely, where is Isla’s mom? Does she know that Isla is struggling? And how does Kingsley fit into all of this?

I’m not sure I will ever know, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering.

Nineteen

Just before dawn, I run toward the castle, my heart pounding as I climb that final hill. My adrenaline and endorphins are going crazy and I feel for just one second that literally anything is possible. I swear, as I’m cresting that hill, it’s like the last seven years of my life weren’t crushed and ruined.

When I reach the castle, I take a moment before I head back inside. Leaning against the stone wall, I suck in a breath. Running has long been an important part of my life. Even before Isla, before I met Kingsley and she blew my whole entire life up, it was a quiet kind of stress release. For forty minutes or an hour, or however long I can get away for, it is a quiet time to meditate. Breathe in, breathe out, push one foot in front of the other.

But lately, I have been getting very few moments of this kind of bliss. Honestly, aside from the night I spent with Ella in New York City, I haven’t been releasing any kind of steam lately. At least today when I had the opportunity to run, I grabbed it with both hands. But my body will soon be racked with tension again.

And the only things that I’ve ever found that worked to get out my aggression are sex and exercise. One of those things makes my life unbearably complicated. And the other takes time out of my busy schedule, something I often don’t have to give.

I sigh and push out every bit of breath that’s in my lungs. Then I push myself off the stone wall and head inside. The castle is silent now. It’s too early for Natasha’s sarcastic, frenetic presence. And Isla won’t be up for a little while yet. Now is the only time that I get to myself and I feel amazing as I trot up the stairs.

Heading up the stairs and around the corner to my room, the first thing I notice is that my phone is buzzing. I like to keep my room extremely cold and extremely dark, so the screen of the phone lights up where it lies on the bedside table. Sauntering over to it, I pick my phone up and find a text message from my long time good friend, Stellan. Stellan is the king of Denmark now. But for a long time, his family was the same as mine: the entirety of the country looks up at the Love family, just as Scotland had a huge spotlight placed on the Grayrose family.

So as you can imagine, the two oldest sons from both close knit families are bonded in a special way. Our families were close for our entire childhood. But Stellan and I, being only a year apart in age, are particularly close even to this day.

Stellan texts:Are we still on for the visit in Paris? My wife is pregnant but I feel like an outing is overdue.

I lift my brows. Stellan fell in love with a common American girl with a rebellious streak a mile long. After a torrid affair, they ended up getting married. Now Margo is settling into being the Queen of Denmark. As far as I know, she is a lovely little blonde that complements my childhood best friend pretty damn well.