Page 29 of Wicked Princess (Knight's Ridge Empire 2)

“It’s fine. If we can’t joke about it, what can we do?”

“Let’s get you home, you crazy bitch,” Harley jokes.

All three of us ignore the elephant in the room as Harley drives us toward her house. They focus on catching me up on school, cheer and the dumbass things the football team have done already this year.

It’s all so easy, so natural to insert myself back into life here.

This place really was my home, and it makes me appreciate why I missed it quite so much when I moved across the pond.

I let out a contented sigh when I walk into Harley’s house.

“Oh my God,” Poppy cries from the kitchen, spotting me as I enter. “What the hell?”

“Surprise,” Harley sings.

“What are you doing here?”

I look between the three of them, the only girls ever to properly smash down my walls and force themselves into my life.

“It’s kind of a long story. Shall we go sit down?” I ask, aware that I’m starting to feel spent. “Any chance of some water? I need to take some pills.”

“Yes, yes. Hang on,” Harley says, rushing forward. “Go and make her rest,” she shoots over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Come on, she’s right.”

I gently drop down in the middle seat of Harley’s sectional and attempt to cover the lingering pain and discomfort that wants to show on my face.

I’ll be the first to admit that getting myself here after what I’ve just been through is utterly insane.

But I just couldn’t stay there.

I was going to have to go home and deal with Dad. I loved the security the nurses provided in keeping Seb away when I asked them to. But without them…

I just… I don’t need any of it.

I need peace. I need… I don’t know what I need.

But when the Uber drove alongside the ocean, I felt a hell of a lot better about life.

I know that running isn’t the answer.

I can’t hide out here forever. At some point, I’m going to have to go back to London and deal with all the shit I’ve left behind.

I’m just not ready yet. I’m not strong enough, and that’s not something I want to confess to anyone who’s trying to ruin or control my life.

I want to face it head on. And right now, I can’t do that.

Both Ruby and Poppy’s concerned eyes burn into me as I sit there with my head spinning, listening to Harley crash around in the kitchen.

“Here you go,” she announces, joining us.

She passes Ruby and Poppy cans of soda before placing a huge bowl of chips on the coffee table between us all.

“And for the patient,” she says, handing me a bottle of water and my own bowl of chips.

“Don’t, please. I was being discharged today anyway. I only missed a few hours of lying in that uncomfortable bed.”

“I’m pretty sure they weren’t going to let you out if they knew you were going to get straight on an airplane,” Ruby chastises.