Wicked Princess (Royal Hearts Academy) Read online

Turns out being Mom’s favorites had its drawbacks.

  “You don’t have to live without us,” Liam tells her. “We’ll never leave you.”

  “It’s true,” I assure her. “We love you.”

  More than anything…but I didn’t want to die.

  “Close your eyes,” she instructs as she unclips her seatbelt. “It will all be over soon. I promise.”

  Liam lets go of my hand and covers his eyes as the car accelerates. “Mommy, stop!”

  “Mom, please don’t do this!” I cry out, wrapping my arms around my brother. “I love yo—”

  Chapter 1

  My throat feels like sandpaper, but it’s nothing compared to the dull ache coursing through me.

  Mom.

  Liam.

  The thought has my body jerking as I open my eyes.

  A white ceiling and harsh florescent lighting greets me.

  Where am I?

  Where are they?

  It’s only then I realize someone’s holding my hand…sort of.

  Mom?

  It hurts to turn my head, but I do it anyway.

  Confusion impales me as I take in a girl with long brown hair and glasses—who for some unknown reason is painting my nails a bright pink color.

  Her warm brown eyes widen, and she jumps up so fast she drops the bottle of polish. “Oh my God. You’re…shit. You’re awake.”

  I’m not sure who she is, but she sounds super excited to see me.

  She’s also really short for an adult. Only a few inches taller than I am.

  Slowly I take in my surroundings and realize I must be in a hospital.

  “Are you a nurse?” I croak, my voice sounding even deeper and raspier than I remember.

  She blinks. “I’m Saw—you know what? Let me go get one.” Hands shaking, she takes out her cell phone. “I told your brothers to grab some lunch in the cafeteria earlier, but I’m gonna tell them to head back up here pronto.” Not stopping for air, she backs out of the room. “You stay right here. I’ll be right back, okay?”

  It’s not like I can go anywhere even if I wanted to.

  Between all the IVs, tubes, and machines, not to mention the pain…

  Whoa.

  My hand looks…different. Not just because of the nail polish the weird nurse used, but it’s bigger than I remember and my nails are longer.

  I tilt my head down. Holy cow.

  Mom told me I wouldn’t get those for at least another four years.

  “Hi, honey,” a woman wearing scrubs says as she enters the room. “My name is—”

  Before she can finish her sentence, some man wearing a lab coat brushes past her. “I’m Dr. Jones.”

  That’s the only introduction I get before he rushes over to my bed and shines a light in my eye. Geez.

  He points his finger at me. “Follow my finger.”

  “Where are my mom and brother?”

  Placing a stethoscope over my chest, he frowns. “What’s your name?”

  Shouldn’t he already know that?

  “Bianca.”

  “Last name?”

  Seriously? “Covington. C-o-v—”

  “When is your birthday?”

  “June first.”

  “What year?”

  “Two-thousand-two.”

  “Very good.” His eyebrows pinch in concern. “Do you know what today’s date is?”

  I draw a blank. “No—”

  “Bianca!” some man barks as he barrels inside the room.

  He’s tall with tan skin and short dark hair and his eyes are brown like mine. Only he has dark circles around his, like he hasn’t slept in weeks.

  He also has a lot of tattoos.

  I inwardly shudder. He’s kind of scary.

  “Holy fuck. You’re awake,” another man says from behind him before they both surround my bed like a couple of armed guards.

  The second guy is also tall with short dark hair. Only unlike the other one, he’s pale and his eyes are a very noticeable green…just like my dad’s.

  For some odd reason, I feel like I should know them, but that makes no sense because I’ve never seen them.

  “How are you feeling?” one of them asks.

  Like I’m in an alternate universe. “I—”

  Before I can answer, the strange, short nurse from earlier trickles in.

  “Are my brothers on their way?”

  She visibly swallows. “Yeah.”

  Hopefully they’ll be here soon.

  My eyes ping-pong between the two guys. They look every bit as baffled as I feel.

  “What’s wrong with her?” scary guy barks.

  Wow. Rude much?

  I turn my attention to the doctor because I need some answers myself. “Where’s my mo—”

  “Bianca!” a voice I actually recognize exclaims.

  I breathe a sigh of relief as I take the man in. Finally, a familiar face.

  “Daddy,” I choke out.

  Everything is so confusing. I don’t know what’s going on or where Mom and Liam are.

  My dad rushes over and wraps his arms around me. He’s hugging me so hard it hurts, but I don’t care.

  He’s the only person in this room I recognize, and I can’t help but cling to him like he’s my life preserver.

  “I’m scared.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the two men exchange a glance.

  For reasons I don’t understand, it seems like I’ve upset them somehow.

  “Everything’s gonna be okay, sweetheart,” my dad assures me. “God, I’m so happy you’re all right.”

  “Where’s Mom?” I question. “Is she okay? What about Li—”

  “Mom?” one of the guys exclaim. “Bianca, mo—”

  “Everyone outside,” the doctor instructs.

  I try to get off the bed, but sharp shooting pain blazes down my side.

  “Not you.” The doctor gestures to the woman wearing scrubs. “Nurse Dawn still needs to take your vitals.”

  As if on cue, the nurse comes over to my bedside.

  “Hi, honey. How are you? Is there anything I can get you?”

  Remembering my throat feels like a desert, I utter, “Can I have some water?”

  “Sure thing.” She takes out a thermometer. “I just need to take your temperature first, all right?”

  I’m not really in a position to refuse.

  After she takes my temperature along with a few other vitals and checks my IV, she hands me a small cup of water.

  It feels like heaven…until I hear people arguing right outside my door.

  “Is everything okay? Am I in trouble?”

  The nurse gives me a reassuring smile. “Of course not, sweetie.”

  I take another small sip of water. “Why does it hurt to move?”

  A crease forms between her brows. “You have a fractured pelvis.”

  Yikes. “Oh.”

  She adjusts the pillow beneath me. “The good news is that you’re recovering beautifully and as long as that continues, you should be able to start physical therapy in a couple of weeks.”

  That’s great and all, but I have much more pressing issues to worry about.

  Clearing my throat, I ask the question no one seems to be answering. “Do you know where my mom and brother are? They were in the car with me when my m—” My mouth clamps shut before I finish that sentence. “Are they okay?”

  She pats my hand. “I’m gonna go out there and talk to the doctor. Are you in any pain right now? Is there anything I can get you? Juice? Maybe some soup?”

  I shake my head.

  The only thing I want is for her to answer my question, but she ambles out of the room.

  A few moments later, the doctor, my father, and the two guys I don’t know walk back inside, only there’s a new face this time.

  A skinny girl with blonde hair and blue eyes.

  She’s holding the scary guy’s hand and rubbing his back…consoling him.

  Why?

 
I look at my father. “What’s going on?”

  He starts to speak, but Dr. Jones cuts him off.

  “Before we get into that, I need to ask you a few questions, okay?”

  Again, it’s not like I’m in any position to decline.

  “Ball, tree, and bird,” Dr. Jones states as he looks at his watch. “I want you to remember these words.”

  Weird. “Okay.”

  He types something into his tablet. “Bianca, can you tell me where you are?”

  I look around. “The hospital…I think.”

  “Very good.” He points to my dad. “And who is this man beside me?”

  That’s an easy one. “My dad.”

  He continues typing things on his tablet. “What about the two other gentlemen in the room?”

  “I have no idea.” I eye them warily. “Should I?”

  The scary guy winces and the girl with the blue-streaked hair kisses his shoulder.

  A pang of guilt hits me. They all look so upset.

  “I—I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Dr. Jones assures me.

  Dad’s eyes lock with mine. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”

  I didn’t but…

  Panic rises up my throat.

  Mom didn’t do anything wrong, either. She wasn’t acting like herself.

  She loves us. She would never hurt us on purpose.

  Another horrifying thought hits me.

  Did they take her away? Put her someplace where I’ll never be able to see her again?

  “I…um.”

  The room begins to sway, and the cup of water slips out of my hand.

  “Where’s my mom?”

  I need to see her, so I know she’s all right.

  The scary guy steps forward, only he doesn’t look so scary right now.

  He looks every bit as terrified as I feel despite the next words out of his mouth.

  “Everything will be okay.”

  The other guy with the piercing green eyes walks over to the other side of my bed. “We got you.”

  I don’t understand any of this. “Who are you?”

  The mean one starts to speak again, but Dr. Jones holds up a hand.

  “Bianca, can you tell me how old you are?”

  “Eight—” I start to answer until I look down again. I certainly don’t have the body of an eight-year-old. I don’t really feel like one either…whatever that means. “I think? I’m not so sure anymore.”

  Dr. Jones looks up from his tablet. “Can you recall the words I asked you to remember before?”

  I scan my brain. “Ball, tree, and bird.”

  He smiles. “Very good.” He looks at my father. “I want to run a few more tests, but it seems her short-term memory is still intact.”

  “Short term memory?” I repeat, not understanding.

  “That’s good, right?” scary guy asks.

  The doctor nods before he turns his attention back to me. “Can you recall anything about the accident?”

  Shaking my head, I clamp my mouth shut.

  I don’t want Mom to get in trouble.

  It wasn’t her fault.

  Dad frowns. “Nothing at all?”

  “Why won’t anyone tell me where my mom is?” I look between the two guys standing on opposite sides of my bed. “And who are they? Why are they here? What do they want from me?”

  “We’re your brothers,” the guy who looks like my dad barks.

  “Cole,” the short nurse from earlier hisses. “Calm down before you frighten her.”

  Too late.

  “You aren’t my brothers.”

  Scary guy tries to reach for my hand, but I pull it back.

  “Bianca, I know it’s confusing and I know you’re afraid, but it’s true.” His brown eyes soften a fraction. “I’m Jace.”

  “And I’m Cole,” the other guy declares.

  No. Jace and Cole aren’t this old.

  “That’s not possible. Jace is eleven and Cole is ten…so is Liam.”

  Tears spring to my eyes. I need to see Liam. He’d never lie to me.

  “I know my brothers,” I yell, frustration clawing its way up my throat. “You aren’t my brothers!” My vision becomes blurry as I peer up at my dad. “Go get my real brothers and my mom.”

  Dr. Jones claps his hands. “Okay, I think that’s enough for now. Everyone needs to give her some space and time to process.” He starts ushering them out of the room. “I need to run some more tests. If Bianca’s feeling up to it, you can come visit her later.”

  “I’m not leaving,” my dad insists. “She’s confused and she needs someone—”

  “She needs someone who’s not a pseudo-father,” someone grunts before the two claiming to be my brothers rush back into the room.

  “When you were six, you fell off the jungle gym, cracked your chin open, and needed five stitches,” the scary tattoo guy says. “It scared the shit out of Mom. She cried harder than you did.”

  I rub the faint scar underneath my chin as the memory rushes through my head. “How did you—”

  “Because you’re my baby sister.” He reaches for my hand again. “I was the first person to hold you when you came home from the hospital. The first person to see you take your first steps in the living room, right by the fireplace. I know almost everything about you, Bianca. Like how you slept with a stuffed bear named Mr. Wiggles until you were twelve.” Visibly flustered, he points to Cole. “Or how when you were seven, Cole was playing ball in the house and broke Mom’s favorite vase, but he told Mom it was you.”

  That’s true. God, I was so mad at him for that.

  “Gee, thanks, dick,” Cole says before he addresses me. “All right, fine. I blamed you for breaking the vase.” He slaps his chest. “But who took the rap when you stole the entire carton of ice cream from Mom’s grocery bag and then threw up all over Mrs. Garcia’s dog five minutes later?”

  “Liam,” Jace and I say at the same time.

  Cole’s jaw works. “Right. But Mom knew Liam hated ice cream, so she didn’t believe him. She blamed me.”

  I can’t help but laugh. Cole was pissed when he had to give Mrs. Garcia his weekly allowance so she could get her dog washed and groomed, but I told him he owed me for the vase.

  There’s no way they’d know any of those things if they weren’t Jace and Cole.

  I look at Jace who’s finally smiling, and I can’t believe I didn’t realize it until now. “You have Mom’s smile.”

  I turn my attention to Cole next. “And you look like Dad.”

  He waggles his eyebrows. “Only way better looking, right?”

  A laugh flies out of me again because that’s totally something Cole would say.

  That’s when it dawns on me. “Wait a minute…if you guys are all grown up. How old am I?”

  They exchange a nervous glance before Jace answers. “Eighteen.”

  The news feels like ten-thousand bricks to the head.

  “I’ve been in the hospital for ten years?”

  “Not exactly,” Cole mutters before Jace shoots him a warning look.

  “What?” I try to sit up in bed, but the pain makes it impossible. “What does that mean?”

  Cole sighs. “You’ve been here for a month.”

  That only makes me more confused.

  “How is that possible? If I’m eighteen like you claim, that means the accident happened ten years ago. But if I’ve only been here a month—” I stop mid-sentence because there’s something way more important that I need them to tell me. “Where is Mom? Where is Liam? Why aren’t they here?”

  There’s no way Mom wouldn’t be here.

  Jace squeezes my hand. “I know you’re confused, but everything will be okay.”

  “Where is she?”

  I’m tired of everyone ignoring my questions about her.

  About them.

  I turn to Cole. “Where—”

  “Cole, don’t,” Jace warns.

/>   Why won’t anyone tell me the truth? “Why—”

  Oh, God.

  The inconsolable expression on Jace and Cole’s face twists my insides.

  “What happened to her?”

  Where are they keeping her?

  “Mom—” Jace starts, but his voice catches mid-sentence.

  “The accident,” Cole says, his voice a broken whisper. “Mom didn’t make it.”

  “No,” I scream, refusing to believe it. “You’re lying.”

  She can’t be gone.

  She wouldn’t leave me.

  “Bianca—”

  It’s the last thing I hear before grief sinks its sharp claws into my heart…and everything goes dark.

  Chapter 2

  My eyelids feel like paperweights, but it’s nothing compared to the boulder of anguish on my chest.

  She’s gone.

  I’m never going to see her again.

  “I told you she needed time to process everything,” some man says sternly.

  It sounds like he’s standing right outside my door.

  “She deserved to know the truth,” someone who sounds a lot like Cole argues.

  “It was too early,” Jace whispers. “She couldn’t handle it.”

  “Precisely,” the man says. “I don’t even know the extent of her brain injury yet and you two just…” He sighs long and deep. “Think of your sister like a broken puzzle. She has certain pieces, but not enough to make up the entirety of it. Right now, her reality is just that. Her reality. The only accident she remembers is the one with your mother. Her brain is stuck in that trauma and it’s important for her family to understand this because if she does get her memory back—”

  “What do you mean if?” Jace barks.

  “Are you telling me this amnesia is permanent?” someone who sounds like my dad asks.

  There’s another long sigh. “There’s no way to tell right now. But you have to be careful not to feed her information—”

  “Why?” Cole questions. “If she can’t remember, why is telling her such a bad thing?”

  “Because you’re giving her your biased memories and thoughts. You’re not giving her a chance to heal and remember hers. The brain is a very complex, very sensitive organ. Influencing her memory and pushing her too hard, too fast will only make things worse.”

  “So what should we do?” Jace asks. “How do we help her get better?”

  “Time and patience. Lots of it. Her memories—if she gets them back—might be distorted, but it’s important not to argue or correct her.” He clears his throat. “In the meantime, I’ve taken the liberty of contacting Dr. Wilson. He’s a top-notch psychologist who has a lot of experience working with patients who have brain injuries and amnesia. Given the severity of Bianca’s mental state and what’s happened, I think it’s important she talks to someone. Fortunately, he’s agreed to come up to the hospital to meet with her this week.”