Page 54 of Cross Me

“I’ll let Georgia know,” Brex said. “Any other instructions?”

“Keep an eye on her,” I ordered him, opening the door that lead to the garage. “Make sure no one gets too close to her.”

“Is that all?” he asked.

“No, keep an eye on him, too.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CLARA

I avoided my mobile when I woke up and focused on damage control. My eyes were swollen and puffy from crying, I had no appetite, and sadness had shifted to righteous indignation overnight. I wasn’t hurt anymore. I was furious. I’d worked my anger into apoplectic levels by the time I was dressed.

Checking in, I found Penny changing Elizabeth. My heart sank and I tried to ignore its traitorous plunge. I’d told Alexander to leave, so I couldn’t be disappointed that he had. I wasn’t certain what I would have done if I’d found he’d stayed. Still, it seemed like his husband barometer was off. He had a tendency to leave when he should stay and fight. Or ignore me when I needed him to listen.

Penny handed Elizabeth to me, her eyes sweeping over me. “I thought His Majesty might be here this morning.”

“He had to leave for London.” I forced a brittle smile.

“I thought he might,” she said in an offhanded way.

My blood ran cold, and I clutched Elizabeth so tightly that she squawked in protest. “Why would you think that?”

Penny turned a shade of scarlet darker than her hair. “No reason, ma’am. It’s just that I saw something on the news.”

I didn’t have to ask what she’d seen on the news, because I had a damn good idea what it was.

“Penny,” I said in a strangled voice, “we have a race today, so I think it’s best if Elizabeth stays here. It will be too loud there and I know I’ll be distracted. I’ll check in this afternoon and I’ll have my phone.”

“Of course.” She sounded relieved that I wasn’t going to press her for answers.

I excused myself and grabbed my phone. There were dozens of notifications, but I didn’t bother to check any of them. Instead I went straight to trending news. There he was.

Alexander thought no one would single him out last night, but he was wrong. Someone had gotten a photo. It had gone viral.

I didn’t have the stamina to deal with the fallout from this as well as my duties to the games. Alexander didn’t want to tell me the truth, which meant this wasn’t my problem. The trouble was that no matter how hard I tried to sell myself on that, I couldn’t. I’d signed up to deal with all his troubles when we’d gotten married. I was pretty sure whatever was going on still fell under the whole ‘for better or for worse’ thing.

Choosing not to respond, I went downstairs and forced myself to eat some toast. I had no idea if my queasy stomach was from morning sickness or stress. But I needed to eat, so I stuck with something I could keep down. Brex joined me in the kitchen and eyed my toast without comment.

I slammed a cabinet door and he winced, rubbing his temples gingerly. It looked like he had a hangover. I didn’t bother to ask him what had caused it. I knew exactly where it had come from. Instead, I kept my commentary to a disapproving scowl until we reached the track. Brex continued alongside me, but I turned on him.

“I think I’d rather have Georgia with me today.” It wasn’t his fault he’d gotten into a fight with Alexander. I imagined my husband deserved it. Hell, I probably would have sided with Brex. But I suspected the fight has started over whatever Alexander was hiding. If that was the case, then Alexander trusted him more than me. I couldn’t stomach the idea. It didn’t matter how long they’d been friends. I was his wife.

And the fact that Brex might know tempted me to bring it up. Would he tell me if I asked? That wasn’t how I wanted to find out.

Brexton didn’t argue with me. Instead, he waved Georgia over. She appeared, studying her nails. The perk of having her beside me was that she blended into the crowd more easily. She didn’t feel the need to wear the stock uniform of the rest of the bodyguards. There were no suits. No ties. Her hair hid whatever earpiece I assumed she wore. Instead, she was dressed down in jeans and a leather jacket. It was a bit more casual than my wool peacoat and skinny black trousers, but next to each other we looked like friends. We were about the same age. It wouldn’t be a stretch. But we weren’t friends, and I couldn’t imagine a scenario in which we would be. For a moment, I recalled the first moment I saw her. It seemed like a million years ago. Maybe I should’ve paid more attention to her then. Maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess now.

“I need to make a few calls,” I said to her. She followed me while I looked for an empty office and didn’t argue when I went inside and told her I’d be a few minutes. The fact was that I’d woken up to half a dozen text messages from pretty much anyone who had my direct number. It wasn’t just my friends wanting an explanation, it was the world. I’d start with my friends.

I bypassed my mother’s calls. I didn’t have the strength of character to deal with her right now. Then I went up the list in ascending order, starting from the person I assumed would demand the least amount of time. Lola answered on the first ring.

“Need a publicist?” she asked.

I sighed and shook my head. It was just like my sister to switch to business mode. Alexander would have probably been better served with her as his wife. At least she would know how to deal with it when he fucked things up. “I’m sure there’s a half dozen or so sorting this out right now.”

“Need to talk?”

“No, I have to call everyone before people start coming down here and demanding answers,” I said. I appreciated the offer, but my sister and I had never been close. We got along. We just weren’t tight. Lola didn’t press me for more information. At least one member of my family seemed to respect my privacy. I hung up with her and I called the next person on my list. Belle was spitting angry when she answered. “He’s really lost it, hasn’t he?”