Billionaire on the Loose (19 page)

“I think you shouldn't have any guilt at all.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, what's the point?”

Loch frowned. “But Taylor—”

“You haven't thought about her or how she feels since day one,” Rex said. “Why you starting now?”

Stung, Loch straightened in his seat. “That's not true. I—”

“You want what you want, and it doesn't matter what anyone else wants,” Rex said bluntly. “So you left home because you didn't want to be a king. That's a damn first-world problem if there ever was one. Then you go after a girl that your family will hate so they won't consider you to be king material. And you offer to marry her because it suits you. And you're going to go home and leave her here because it suits you. Tell me which part of that is the part where you were thinking about her feelings?”

Loch was silent.

Rex ate. “It's real easy to use people when you don't care if you hurt them.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then shoved the napkin in his pocket. “That's when it becomes a problem.”

He wasn't wrong . . . about any of it. He hadn't gone into this situation considering Taylor's feelings. He'd plowed ahead with his own plans and never stopped to think about how she would feel. And Taylor was a sweet, lovely person who gave herself wholeheartedly. And now that he knew that . . . it bothered Loch that he'd used her. “So what do I do?”

“You either figure out that you don't give a shit and carry on your merry way, or you figure out that you do give a shit, and you fix it and hope she forgives you.”

Loch nodded. “I'll talk to her.” Soon. As soon as he got the courage to confess what an ass he'd been. He wasn't looking forward to it, though. He picked up the check left on the counter and studied it, then looked at Rex. Uncouth or not, the man had been a good friend and a willing ear, and Loch appreciated it. “If all goes like I think it will, I won't be in the city for much longer. Is there anything I can do to help you get back on your feet?”

Rex snorted.

“What?”

“Why are you offering? Because it helps me or because it helps you feel better about yourself? You think about that and let me know.”

The man was as prickly as a porcupine, but as usual, his barbs hit the mark. Loch nodded slowly, put the money for the check down on the counter, and left the diner.

As he walked back to the hotel, he thought about Taylor. He thought about what would happen if he told her the truth. He imagined her pretty face awash with tears, and the hurt he would see in her eyes. He didn't want to do that to her.

Maybe it was better to just do as Rex said and pretend as if nothing was wrong. That he planned on marrying her for all the right reasons. She didn't have to know the truth. There was no point.

He'd rather have Taylor smiling than unhappy any day. And when the divorce would come up . . . well, he'd cross that bridge when he got there.

For now, it was enough that they were happy and life was good.

***

Two days after the convention, Taylor noticed something was . . . off. Not with Loch, because he'd been wonderful and being engaged to him was like something out of a dream. Rather, it was silence that was bothering her. Silence from Sigmund in particular.

She checked her phone, in case it was messed up and his texts weren't coming through. If that was the case, he'd be utterly frantic that she hadn't been online for more than a pop-in here and there, mostly to check messages and to update her character's “last played” notification so it'd look as if she were playing . . . when she really wasn't. The convention had been nice, but being with Loch was nicer. Yesterday they'd gone to a rock-climbing gym and . . . she hadn't hated it. After that, they'd gone out for dinner and then back to his hotel room to make love for hours.

She'd been so busy enjoying herself she hadn't given a second thought to Sigmund and his neediness.

Now, guilt washed over her as she checked her phone and saw she had no messages from him except the one from Saturday night.

Sigmund: Congrats.

Well, the cat was out of the bag. She hoped he was just licking his wounds in private and would give her time and space. That . . . would be nice. Still, she had an uneasy feeling that it wasn't the case. Taylor grabbed her laptop, settled it on her legs, and logged on to
Excelsior
. She really should have been spending more time in the game, but . . . being with Loch was so enticing. Maybe she could talk him into running his low-level toon through a few newbie dungeons. That would be fun.

Her character popped on and she automatically typed in a
Hi, guys
in the guild chat window.

Silence.

Huh. Maybe they were running dungeons and hadn't seen her message. She did a guild lookup and saw six people online, despite the early hour, and three of them were sitting in Cityport. Okay, that was weird. If they were sitting in the city, maybe they were away from their keyboards. It happened. Sigmund wasn't on, though. She drummed her fingers on her lips, thinking. Should she ask about him? Or would that just be encouraging his obsessive, stalkerlike behavior? She didn't want him to think she was into his messaging, and she was enjoying the silence, so she said nothing. Instead, she started to run her Dragon Rider through the usual daily quests.

It was quiet. It was . . . nice.

She felt guilty that she was enjoying the fact that Sigmund wasn't on. No doubt he was pouting after finding out that Brunhilde was a guy, and that she was engaged to him. The reveal itself could have gone better, but she'd been so happy that she hadn't thought about texting Sig to do damage control. Now it was too late.

Nothing she could do but listen as Sig bitched at her and tried to make her feel bad for her relationship with Loch.

She poked around online but things were awfully quiet. It was strange. Normally there was guild chatter when there were even two people online. Strange. She checked her settings—all good.
Hello?
she typed again.

No answer. Well, that was weird.

She scanned the members list again. Madrigal was on, and so she decided to send him a quick private message.

HaveANiceTay: Hey, it was great to meet you at the convention. Thanks for being so nice to Loch and helping him out.

There was a long pause and she was wondering if her connection was bad, when he messaged her back.

Madrigal: Hey, Taylor.

Madrigal: So uh . . . this is awkward.

HaveANiceTay: What is it?

Madrigal: People are really upset at you.

HaveANiceTay: What? Why? I haven't even been on!

Madrigal: It's the whole Sigmund vs Loch thing.

She groaned aloud. Seriously? She was getting the cold shoulder because Sigmund's feelings were hurt? What, was this a guild of adults or of twelve-year-olds?

HaveANiceTay: I didn't know he was going to propose to me. I certainly didn't know he'd do it at the convention. I wouldn't have done that just to be a bitch to Sig.

Madrigal: I know.

Madrigal: I tried telling them that, too, but you know how attached Sig is to you.

Madrigal: Luckily he's out of ICU now.

Wait, what?

HaveANiceTay: ICU? Is he sick?

Madrigal: Didn't you hear? He tried to kill himself Saturday night. Took a ton of pills. PatsySue found out when she texted him Sunday morning. His mom texted her back. Apparently it was very touch and go for a while.

Madrigal: So if you see people in the guild that are acting weird or unhappy, you know why.

Madrigal: I can't believe you didn't know.

Taylor pressed her hand to her mouth, sick.

He'd gone through with it. He'd really, really tried to kill himself. It wasn't just talk to make her feel guilty or to force her to log on. Sig had actually tried to end his life over the fact that she'd gotten engaged. She stared down at the ring on her finger, trembling.

How could he do that? Wasn't she allowed to have happiness, too? She knew he was miserable, but Taylor couldn't fix him, especially not from afar. She blamed herself for letting things go on as long as they had.

HaveANiceTay: I didn't know. Thank you for talking to me. Thank you for telling me.

Madrigal: I hope you're not too upset.

Upset
didn't feel like a big enough word.
Hurt
.
Shocked
.
Betrayed
.
Guilty
. All of those worked so much better.

HaveANiceTay: I'll be fine. I'm going to call his mom and see how he's doing. Thanks, Madrigal.

Madrigal: You're welcome.

HaveANiceTay: Actually, I might be taking a break from
Excelsior
for a bit. How do you feel about taking over as guild leader?

Madrigal: !!!

Madrigal: Seriously?

Madrigal: I'd love to, but I don't want you to step down over this!

HaveANiceTay: It's a lot of stuff and I haven't been feeling the game in a while. I've only been playing because of Sigmund. I would love to make you guild leader instead. You're a great guy and I think you'd do right by the guild.

Madrigal: I'd be honored.

She executed the command to pass the guild leader tag over to Madrigal, and a moment later, the screen lit up.
MADRIGAL HAS BEEN MADE GUILD LEADER.
The guild chat, previously so silent, lit up with questions. She didn't stick around to answer any of them. She slammed her laptop shut and tossed it aside, then buried her face in her hands.

Taylor knew she wasn't responsible for Sigmund's suicide attempt. She knew he was unbalanced and overly needy and depressed. All the signs were there and it had worried her for a long time that it might come to this. She didn't feel any better knowing that she was right.

Nor did she feel any less guilty.

Taking several deep, steeling breaths, she composed herself. It wouldn't do any good to call Sig's phone and be all hysterical if his mother picked up.

Across the room, a phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Distracted and out of it, she headed over to the table where she kept her phone. Loch's was right next to hers, and she frowned at the sight of it. Didn't he want to take it jogging with him? She felt naked without hers. When she picked up her phone, though, her text message screen was blank.

Curious, she looked over at Loch's locked phone.

PM: Just wanted to update you on our situation. HRH is pregnant. I hope you haven't gone ahead with your ridiculous plan to marry the unsuitable American girl just to thwart the insurgents. Call me back, no matter the hour.

She staggered.

What the hell? She knew she shouldn't be snooping on his phone, but the text was lit up for anyone to see and he'd left it out in the open. She read it again quickly, her mind whirling. So Loch had a plan to marry an unsuitable American girl to thwart insurgents? What insurgents?

Taylor whirled around and tripped over the end table, taking a header in her haste. She pulled herself up off the floor and crawled over to the couch, and opened her laptop again. A quick Google search of
Bellissime insurgents
found a few overseas articles, all pointing at the fact that an anti-American league was protesting the princess's marriage to an actor, and they were eyeing others for the throne. Loch's name came up several times.

She felt sick.

Closing her laptop slowly, she sat on the floor and stared ahead at nothing.

Well, at least now it all made sense. She'd been wondering how a guy as out of her league as Loch could be interested in her. It had seemed too good to be true. Turned out it was.

She was being used. If they didn't like the princess marrying a famous actor, they sure wouldn't like Loch marrying a nobody like her who wore Doctor Who scarves and carried a kitty-cat backpack.

But . . . he'd told her he loved her. She'd thought everything was moving super fast, but he'd said he loved her and they were good together.

And stupid, stupid her, she'd squealed and professed her own love.

She felt like the world's biggest idiot.

Hot tears spilled down her cheeks and she put her head in her hands and sobbed.

Loch didn't love her. He was using her. Sigmund had tried to kill himself over a proposal he didn't even realize was a sham. Hell, she hadn't realized it, either. She swiped tears off her cheeks and sniffed hard. She had no one left but herself.

All right, then. Time to lick her wounds and fix things.

She got up off the floor, wiped her eyes again, and went to pack her stuff.

***

She debated leaving before he returned from his jog. On one hand, it would have been immensely satisfying to leave without a trace and make him wonder . . . but she was going to be mature about this.

Well, relatively mature. There were probably going to be tears and cusswords, too.

Taylor sat by the door in her THIS PRINCESS SAVES HERSELF T-shirt with her backpack by her feet and her suitcase next to her, and she played
Candy Crush
while she waited for him to return. Or at least, she tried to play
Candy Crush
. Most of the time she just stared at the bright-colored little candies and tried not to cry. Stupid candies needing to be crushed. Stupid Loch. Stupid Sig. Stupid everything.

She hated that she felt so stupid and used, like something lower than a bug.
Sure, crush me underfoot. What's it matter as long as you get your way, right?

She started to look for a bug-crushing app—so much crushing—when the hotel room door opened and Loch walked in, sweaty and oh-so delicious.

And she burst into tears again.

“Tay? What's wrong?” He moved toward her.

What was wrong?
What was wrong?
“I got engaged to an asshole, that's what's wrong,” she blurted out between sobs.

The look of utter confusion on his face made her heart clench in hope that maybe, just maybe, she was wrong.