Dirty Wicked Prince (Court Legacy Book 1)

Dorian – age 10

I couldn’t find Charlie, but he was really good at this game.

I hunkered down behind one of my mom’s flower pots. I watched for my best friend Ares but hoped I wouldn’t have to tag him. He was really good at laser tag too, like Charlie, but he got really aggressive about it and sore when he lost. He wasn’t the one anyone wanted to find them.

I stayed quiet.

I couldn’t hear anything, but everyone was so good at this game. Even Wells and Thatcher despite them being smaller. They bugged the crap out of Ares and me until we let them play this time. I wouldn’t mind it, but Ares got crazy sometimes. Last thing we needed was someone getting hurt and all our moms and dads yelling at us. Last time we’d played hard together, Wells had skinned his knee and Thatcher had tackled Ares because he’d been the one to do it. I just wanted to play a game, not get our parents screaming.

A shuffle sounded directly behind me.

I stiffened behind the pot, my finger hugging the trigger of my laser gun. I eased out for a look, but a hand slammed against my mouth and, next thing I knew, someone was joining me behind the pot.

Charlie.

He placed his finger to his lips, telling me to keep quiet. He had dark hair, real dark like my mom, and in their kid pictures, they looked exactly the same. He waved at me to come with him.

I went.

I followed close behind, trusting him for some reason despite us not being on teams. I always trusted Charlie.

I was right to.

He pushed me out of the way, as Ares launched at us. I didn’t know how Ares could see with all those brown curls surrounding his face, but he always managed.

“Take that, suckers!” Ares called, shooting at both Charlie and me with a quick finger.

Charlie was quicker.

Holding me back, Charlie used his height to shoot a direct shot right at Ares’s laser tag vest. The lights on Ares’s vest went off like crazy, and Ares started groaning as he ripped it off and tossed it to the floor.

“No fair,” Ares gritted, his face changing in color. He pouted. “Charlie, you’re like way bigger than the rest of us.”

With a chuckle, Charlie stood tall. He was taller than us since he was twelve and we were ten. Charlie pointed at him. “Didn’t stop you from taking out Wells and Thatcher so quick.”

I’d seen it too. Ares had gone for them first despite them being weaker, and Thatcher had been so angry he’d said a curse word and left the game.

Wells hadn’t been far behind.

We were all best friends, but Wells and Thatcher were close like Ares and I were. I think that was mostly because of our ages. Ares and I were ten, and Thatcher and Wells were nine.

Charlie was all our buddies, though. Especially mine. He was my mom’s brother despite him only being a couple years older than me.

The other guys always joked about that, about Charlie being my uncle when uncles were supposed to be really big. Charlie always got on them real quick about that, though, and he was like a big bother to all of us.

I mean, he was Batman.

Tackling Ares, Charlie told him to go find Thatcher and Wells and apologize. Ares grumbled about it, but he eventually left. Charlie stayed behind with me, and after he showed me a couple moves with the laser gun, we decided to go to the kitchen and get a drink.

“I bet Mom made lemonade,” I said to him.

She always did when Charlie came over, knowing it was his favorite. He didn’t come by a lot since he and his parents, my grandparents, traveled all the time.

Grandpa Lindquist, my mom’s dad, married Charlie’s mother, my grandma Helen, before I was born, but Grandma Helen wasn’t my biological grandma. My blood-related grandma died before I was born.

Grandpa Lindquist was really fun. He took Charlie and Grandma Helen all over the world, and Grandpa always brought stuff back for me. Because they did travel a lot, it was always extra special when Charlie came by. Usually, it’d be for a few days or something while Grandma and Grandpa went on weekend trips. Charlie had been here since Friday, and we’d had a blast all weekend with Thatcher, Wells, and Ares.

Charlie chased me down the hall and together we ran into the kitchen, laughing. It took us a second to realize we weren’t alone.

And that my dad was here.

Dad shouldn’t be here. He worked in business and was always busy.

He wasn’t alone.

He held my mom. Her face was red. My great-aunt Celeste was there too.

My stomach twisted.

Great-Aunt Celeste held Mom’s hand, rubbing it. Dad ran his hand down Mom’s back, and when Mom faced Charlie and me, her eyes were all red.

Like she’d been crying.

I started to go toward her—why was she crying?—but Charlie held me back.

He had my shoulders.

“Hold on, Robin,” Charlie said to me. I was the Robin to his Batman always.

Charlie’s words came out whispered, though, and when I looked up at him, his eyes were wide. Like he’d seen a ghost or was scared or something. Charlie rubbed my shoulders. “What’s going on?”

My parents said nothing. Great-Aunt Celeste said nothing.

But then my mom moved.

My dad allowed her to, her steps so quiet when she came over to me. She placed a hand on Charlie’s face, smiling at him, but it looked weird.

My stomach clenched again.

She squeezed Charlie’s face before going down to me. She took my hand. “Love, I need you to go with your dad for a little bit,” she said, gazing back at him. “Your great-aunt and I need to talk to Charlie.”

Charlie’s eyes expanded, his face white like an actual ghost.

I faced Mom. “Why, Mom?”

“Honey, I just need you to go. Just for a little while, okay?” She placed a hand on my face and, suddenly, my dad was in front of me.

Dad placed out his hand.

I took it, but I didn’t want to go. I couldn’t leave Batman.

“Batman?” I said to Charlie, but all he did was blink. He said nothing. He couldn’t.

My mom and great-aunt were too busy leading him out of the room.

Dad took me outside, just the pair of us, and I didn’t understand. He also told me he’d had my god dad Ramses come by to pick up Ares. He was Ares’s pop, and Ramses also took Thatcher and Wells home. Dad said they had to leave because we all had to talk about something here.

My palms sweated in the garden built by my dad’s mom. She’d planted all the flowers in our backyard by hand. My dad grew up here, and I’d heard him say once that the garden was the only reason he kept the house.

I never understood why he’d ever want to get rid of it. Our house was really nice and big. The garden planted by my grandma only made it better.

Dad had his hands in his pockets, walking beside me. “Do you remember the story I told you, son?” he asked, causing me to look up at him. Most people said I looked just like him, but he always said I had my mom’s eyes. I didn’t know if I liked that because my mom was a girl, but Dad said it was a good thing. He said it all the time actually. His lips thinned. “The story about your grandmother. My mom?”

He told me a lot of stories about her. Like how beautiful she was.

She had to be if she planted all these flowers. I twisted my hands. “Which one, Dad?”

He stopped in front of a willow tree, a koi pond circling it. He faced me. “How she’s always here in this place, and even though we can’t see her, she’s always there. Her and your aunt Grace.”

My aunt Grace was his sister. They had both died before I was born.

I nodded. “Yes.”

Dad took a seat with me on a concrete bench, and my stomach got all queasy again. I didn’t know why we were out here, or why they’d all separated Batman and me.

“There was an accident, Dorian,” Dad said to me, his voice rough and weird sounding. It sounded like Mom a little bit inside. He folded his hands. “An accident involving Grandpa Lindquist and Grandma Helen.”

“What kind of accident?” My voice was quiet, and I wondered if my dad heard it.

But then, he looked at me full on. He always looked me in the eye. Like he could see me when sometimes adults didn’t always do that. My teachers always made me feel little or invisible, but Dad never did. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “It was while they were away. A traffic collision late last night.”

“Well, are they okay?” My voice sounded funny now, and I turned back toward the house. I wished I had X-ray vision, or some kind of cool tech like Batman. I wanted to see in the house and find Batman.

Dad squeezed my shoulder, and I stared up at him. He shook his head. “They didn’t make it, son.”

His voice was quiet now, but I didn’t understand. Didn’t make it? “Dad?”

He brought his arm around me, cupping my arm. He squeezed. “Do you understand what I’ve told you, Dorian? What this means?”

I gazed away, the wispy tails of the koi moving around in the pond. I nodded. “Grandma and Grandpa are gone.” I stared up at him. “They’re not coming back.”

I wouldn’t get to see them again, and I already didn’t get to see them a lot.

My chest hurt, my stomach like someone punched me again and again. I didn’t realize I was crying until I had my dad’s shirt clenched in my fists, and I sobbed in his chest.

He let me stay there, holding me while he rubbed my back. He held me so tight, my dad’s hugs always solid and strong. They always came when I needed them.

And when he gave them, he didn’t let go.

“What about Charlie?” I heard myself say. Again, I didn’t know how Dad heard me. I sniffed into my dad’s shirt. “What will happen to Charlie?”

“He’ll live with us now, son,” Dad said, hugging me so tight. “He’ll live with us, and he’s going to need us. He’s going to need family.”

I couldn’t hear his words after a while, not over my own tears. I didn’t like crying in front of my dad. He never cried, and neither did Charlie. They were both Batman.

I needed to be Batman.