CHAPTER 86: GIVE AND TAKE

CHAPTER 86: GIVE AND TAKE
OSKAR

The sound of her crying guts me.

I’ve been standing out here for hours, just listening to her sobs, my heart breaking into a million pieces with every passing second.

Like I’ve done five times now, I raise my hand to knock, but my knuckles don’t touch the door. Because I have nothing to say, no way to help her. I’m just as useless now as I was to my mum and sister when—

I clench my fists and grit my teeth. I don’t want to go down that train of thought. It usually ends in too much alcohol and a bar brawl.

My watch beeps to tell me that it’ll soon be time for an evening shift, which means, outside, the sun must be setting.

Instead of another pathetic attempt at knocking, I press my palm flat against the wooden panel and lean in. I hear it clearer now—muffled sobs. Sharp, uneven breathing.

My stomach tightens as I realize that it’s possible that she might spend the whole night crying.

I want to kick the door down. Hold her. Fix everything. But I can’t do any of that.

She doesn’t want to be seen right now, and I know her well enough to understand that even comfort can feel like exposure when you’re breaking apart.

So I step back. Useless.

If I hadn’t come up with that stupid plan—if I’d been smarter, faster…

This is all my fault.

I take the long way down to the ground floor, avoiding anyone who might stop me. My chest feels like it’s carrying a hundred kilos.

At the palace security checkpoint, I nod at Captain Olsson. He’s stationed near the east entrance tonight, sharp as ever in his dark uniform and earpiece.

“Kväll, Oskar,” he says. “You look like hell.”

“Long shift,” I mutter, signing out.

He chuckles. “That’s the job.”

I force a smile. “See you tomorrow.”

“Ja. God natt.”

“God natt.”

I say goodnight to almost everyone as I exit the palace, but I don’t have a good night at all.

I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling of my flat, listening to the hum of traffic outside through the open window. This part of the country doesn’t sleep, and apparently, neither do I.

When I close my eyes, I see her stricken face. Hear the way her voice cracked when Johan laughed at her in that café.

I’ve seen Elise wear ballgowns like armor, heels like weapons. But today, she looked so small and fragile.

Everything in me is screaming that I have to protect her from every cruel thing in this world. But I don’t know how to, and that thought alone is a slow death. 

The next morning, I drive to Anton’s garage—the place I brought Elise on the first night that I had the irresistible urge to protect her. To comfort her. To care for her. 

I haven’t taken a day off in weeks, but I’m officially off duty today.

The shop is tucked near the city’s edge, past a bakery that smells like heaven and a butcher that always tries to sell me mortadella.

Anton’s already there when I walk in, greasy hands deep in a Vespa engine. His black overalls are streaked with oil.

“Morrn, bror!” he calls out without looking up. “You’re late for a man with no job.”

“Good morning to you, too,” I say, grabbing a wrench.

Marco, another worker here, is sorting tires in the back. He waves. “The Royal Ghost returns.”

I crack a smile I don't feel.

I try to focus. I help Anton with a brake caliper. I clean a carburetor. But I keep zoning out. I hold the wrong bolt. I forget to seal a tank.

“Something’s eating you,” Anton says eventually, wiping his hands.

“Personal.”

“You sure it’s not royal?” he smirks.

I shake my head. “It’s both.”

He whistles. “Dangerous combo.”

I wipe the sweat off my brow and set the tool down. After another mistake which almost costs me my thumb, I conclude that nothing I do today will take my mind off Elise.

I need to fix this problem. For her. For my sanity.

And when it comes to fixing problems, there’s only one person I know who can do a good job. He’s discreet, and though I don’t know anything about him, he seems to know everything about everybody.

With shaking hands, I take out my burner phone and send a text to him.

I need to see you.

He replies within a few minutes with a meetup location.

Without a word to anyone else, I drop the wrench.

The location is in a building undergoing demolition. He’s standing in a corner when I enter, lighting a cigarette. He studies me, smoke curling around his face. “Odd that you would initiate a meeting.”

When I don’t answer, he waves his hand in a carry on motion. “Go on.”

Straight to business. Good. “I need help with someone.”

He raises a brow. “Who?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

He waits, takes a smoke, and then exhales. “What do you want me to do to this…someone?”

“He has sensitive information about me. I need something to use as a good counter to stop him from blackmailing me with what he has.”

“Hmm.” He stares at me and then takes one more drag before tossing his cigarette down. “And what are you offering in exchange? You still haven’t planted the listening device I oh-so-nicely asked you to plant.”

I clench my fist as a hot wave of anger spreads through my body. I expected this, though. This is how we started our relationship anyway.

Give and take. I’ll work in the palace and keep an eye on the royal family, and he’ll give me the information I’ve spent the past two years digging for.

I look him dead in the eye. “Two minutes of unlocked access to the palace security grid.”

That catches him off guard. It’s one of the first things he asked me to do when I got appointed to the palace. And I vehemently refused, telling him that there were other ways to achieve our goal and it was too dangerous.

But I need to take this risk if I want to help Elise. 

“You’d do that?”

“Yes.”

“You sure you understand what that means?”

“I do.”

His lips curl. “This must really be important to you.”

“It is.”

He thinks for a long moment, and then his face turns serious. “Text me the name of this person and a picture.”

I nod once, and he turns to go.

“And Oskar?” he calls over his shoulder.

I glance up.

“If you don’t fulfil your ends of the bargain…”

“I will,” I say. For Elise, I will.

“You better.”

I stand there long after he’s gone, wondering if there’s any part of me left that’s still clean.


Kväll (Swedish)- Evening

God natt (Swedish)- Good night

Morrn Bror (Swedish)- 'Morning, bro