Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 234
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
As a non-endurance runner, fuck the mile death run.
But I don’t hate this weird out-of-breath feeling with Ben. It’s one born from anticipation, from the things that slam through walls and soar. I’ve experienced so much of life alone that to share this moment with another is heady, dizzying, maddening.
And I realize…I’m losing it too.
Ben looks me over. “Tell me not to believe in the good in you. Tell me I should be scared.” Our eyes can’t unfasten.
“You should have some fear for your life. Where’s the self-preservation, Friend?”
“Courage doesn’t exist without fear. We all have to confront things that scare us at some point.”
So this does scare him.
The idea that I could betray him.
I can’t imagine screwing over a person who’s helped me not once but twice. This secret isn’t a grenade that could blow me up. It feels more like his heart. Like he was the one who cracked the organ in half. He was the one who gave it away.
“You might’ve chosen the wrong person.” Better to warn him now. “I’ve never been a safety net for anyone. My parachute probably has holes in it.”
He twists the doorknob. “Guess we’ll be on a fast descent together, Fisher.” He gives me a salute from the brim of his hat. “See you around, Friend.”
My heart can’t slow. “See you, Friend.”
2
BEN COBALT
ONE WEEK LATER
What is it like to have four older brothers? What’s it like to have two sisters? What’s it like to be the son of a feminist icon and a legendary billion-dollar man? What’s it like to be a part of the Cobalt Empire?
Everyone wants to know the truth.
Very few ever will.
Entrance into my family is like finding a golden ticket in a Wonka Bar, only then to be battle-tested in a Colosseum. Death is more likely than victory.
Despite feeling like I’m the black sheep among lions, there’s so much I love about my unshakeable family. I love that it’s not easy to gain access to all of us when there are people in the world with cruel intentions. I know they exist—even if Charlie will claim I’m so naïve to the atrocities of others.
I see it.
I see it overwhelmingly. I see that trust is too valuable a commodity.
Still, I give my trust more freely than many of my siblings, but in a way, I think we all know which pieces to hold back from strangers. And I think we all know which pieces will always belong to each other.
It’s far from misery to be bred from the kind of love that pulls you to your feet when you’ve crashed hard. And this past year, I’ve fucking crashed. This low was worse than being body-slammed into ice. Worse than any hit I’ve ever taken in a hockey rink.
It’s why I left Philly.
But I didn’t want to leave Audrey this soon. I dragged my feet for so long because of my little sister. Even now, I don’t know if this is where I should be, if this is just another mistake I’m making, but my college records have already been transferred to Manhattan Valley University.
My first class is tomorrow.
I just have to see where this choice takes me. Even if it wasn’t part of the plan.
Clutching my phone to my ear, I grip a handrail with my other hand. The subway car rattles along the tracks, and I hear my older brother’s smooth, calming tone.
“What time are you getting in?” Beckett asks. “I’ll pick you up.”
“You mean your driver will pick me up,” I whisper while I’m in public. Girls in business casual blouses and skirts read on tablets, and I can’t be sure if they’re close enough to overhear or if they even recognize who I am. Or if they even care that I’m a Cobalt.
How the public perceives me—I don’t pay much attention to. But some in my family are extremely private. Beckett being the most private, I don’t want to be the one to air any aspect of his personal life to fans, press, the media—so I try to be mindful.
“I’ll be with my driver,” Beckett says. “I’m taking tonight’s performance off—”
“Don’t.”
“Ben—”
“Don’t miss ballet for me.” I dip my head down, the rim of my old baseball cap shielding my eyes. “I’ll get there when I get there.”
Beckett exhales a long breath. The truth is, I’m only moving to New York because he asked me to. If it were any other brother, I would’ve just suffered alone under the weight of my mistakes. But Beckett Joyce—I’ve loved him for as long as I can remember.
I’m number six out of seven.
He’s number three. And when it felt like every older brother poked and poked and poked, he was the one who just held and hugged. Hell, sometimes I loved him more than I loved our father, who we all revere and admire in our own way.