Broken Prince: A Novel (The Royals Book 2) (14 page)

I feel the cool metal of the car hood under my bared butt. Reed’s fingers are squeezing my thighs and the tightness I felt before starts to ache. I thrash under his rough embrace, wanting something, searching for something, reaching for it. But it’s elusive.

His mouth leaves mine to find my neck and then my shoulder. “That’s right, baby. You’re mine,” he growls against my skin.

Yes, I’m his. His…
baby
?

“No. No, I’m not.” I wiggle out from underneath his body, breathless and ashamed as I frantically tug my leggings up. “You have a baby and it’s not me.”

He stands up slowly, not bothering to pull down his shirt or button the jeans that I’d apparently undone. “For the last fucking time, Ella—I didn’t get that woman pregnant. Why won’t you believe me?”

His voice rings with so much sincerity that I almost believe him. Almost being the key word. My mind suddenly snaps back to all those times Mom begged me to give her latest cheating boyfriend a second chance.
He’s changed, sweetie. He’s different. It was a misunderstanding. The woman was actually his sister.

I never understood why she couldn’t see through the lies, but now I wonder if maybe she wanted to believe in love so badly that she convinced herself that her slimy boyfriend was telling the truth, just so she could have someone around.

“Of course you’re going to deny it. What else are you going to say?” I let out a shaky breath. “Let’s just forget this ever happened.”

“You really think I could forget this?” His voice is low, edgy. “You kissed me back. You still want me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I would’ve kissed anyone just now. Did kiss anyone. Remember? If it was Wade here and not you, I’d be kissing him instead.”

Reed frowns. “Wade’s a good guy. Don’t break his heart to get back at me. That’s not who you are.”

“You don’t know who I am.”

“Yeah, I do. You said it yourself—I see you. I see your hurt and your loneliness. I see your pride, and the way it stops you from leaning on anyone. I see your big heart, and how you want to save the world, including an ass like me.” His voice catches. “I’m done playing games, Ella. No other girls exist in this world for me. If you see me talking to one, know that I’m talking about you. If you see me walking next to someone, I’m wishing it was you.” He steps toward me. “You’re the only one for me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“How can I change your mind?”

I push at him. He’s standing way too close to me, and I need distance.

“Do you want me to beg? Because I’ll do that.” He starts to lower himself to the ground.

“Dude! Royal’s
whipped
,” a loud voice crows. The comment is followed by a whip sound and lots of drunken laughter. A group of guys stumble past us on their way to the side of the mansion.

I grab Reed before he can hit his knees. As much as I hate him, I hate the Astor kids more. But Reed doesn’t seem bothered at all that these jerks overheard him. He just smirks and flips up his middle finger.

Tears prick my eyes, and I avert my face so he can’t see them. “I hate this place,” I whisper. “Astor is officially the stupidest school in the entire world.”

Silence weighs heavy between us until he sighs deeply. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

Since my car is disgustingly out of commission, I slump in defeat and climb into his SUV, but I make sure to sit as far away from him as possible.

“What happened to your jersey?” he asks gruffly. “It’s soaking wet.”

“Jordan happened.”

His hands tighten around the wheel. “I’ll deal with her.”

“How?”

“You let me worry about that.”

I stare out the window and shut down the flutters of hope that are trying to rise in my heart. This is Reed Royal. He’s a guy who screwed his dad’s girlfriend. He has no morals or principles. All he cares about is what he can get for himself.

So no, I won’t allow myself to hope. My heart can’t take it. Not again.

W
inning
my girl back is taking longer than I thought it would. And it’s harder, too. I thought that the kiss at Shea’s party signaled a change of heart. If anything, it ended up having the opposite effect. Ella still doesn’t believe me, and short of a DNA test, I don’t know how I’m going to convince her.

Dad hasn’t mentioned a paternity test, but he’s got to be getting one, right? He can’t tie himself to that snake without some kind of proof.

I spent the entire miserable weekend getting ignored by everyone in the family except my dad and Brooke. Ella, Easton, the twins, Gid. They’re all pissed at me.

Don’t get me wrong, I deserve it. One hundred percent. Sleeping with Brooke was the stupidest decision I ever made. The fact that I’ve always been choosy as hell when it comes to chicks makes it even worse, because someone like Brooke shouldn’t have made the short list. I should’ve resisted her. I should’ve resisted the urge to punish my dad. I know from experience that every boneheaded thing I do only ends with me punishing myself.

But I did it and I can’t change that. I can hate myself for it, I can feel like shit every time I remember it, but I can’t rewrite the past.

And Ella can’t hold it against me forever, right?

“You’re staring.”

I turn to find Wade rolling his eyes at me. Yeah. Busted. I was totally staring at Ella’s table. She’s sitting with Val on the opposite side of the dining hall, and I know she chose that spot on purpose. She’s putting as much distance between us as humanly possible.

And she positioned her chair so that her back is to the room. To me. She wants me to know it’s over, but we both know it’s not. She hated me before and still fell for me. Nothing’s really changed between us. We’re still sparring, still circling each other like well-matched opponents, but we’re there, in the ring, together. And that’s all that matters.

“I’m allowed to stare.” I scowl at him. “You, on the other hand, are not. So keep your eyes off my girl. Your lips, too.”

He just grins. “Hey, it’s not my fault she shoved her tongue in my mouth.”

I growl. “Bring it up again and I’ll lay you out.”

“You’d never hurt your quarterback,” Wade taunts, laughing as he rises from his chair. “I’ll catch you bros later. Got someone waiting for me in the bathroom.”

All the guys roll their eyes. Wade is notorious for his bathroom hookups.

“Hey, East,” someone else says from the other end of the table. “Heard you hooked up with Savannah Montgomery.”

I jolt upright. Seriously? First Abby, and now Sav?

When Abby pulled me aside at the party, it was to apologize for hooking up with East. She claimed she was mad at me and that it was her way of lashing out. It was hard to stop myself from saying
I don’t give a damn who you screw
. But it’s true, I don’t. I was over Abby even before Ella entered the picture, and I honestly don’t care who she sleeps with.

What I do care about is East. My brother’s out of control and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. That’s what keeps me up at night. Well, that, and Ella.

Speaking of Ella, one of my teammates suddenly mentions her name. I drop any pretense that I’m not interested and turn to face the two football players who are gossiping like they’re at a Junior League luncheon.

“What about Ella?” I demand.

Neiman Halloway, a sophomore O-lineman, grimaces. “Just heard she had a bad time of it in Speech today.”

“What happened?” I fold my arms across my chest and glare at the two players. If they don’t start talking, they’re going to wear an imprint of their lunch trays on their faces.

Neiman clears his throat. “I wasn’t there, but my sister’s in her class. Said that Ella had to give a speech today about the people she looked up to or some shit. She wrote it about her mom, and, ah…” He shifts uncomfortably.

“Spit it out. I’m not gonna punch you for repeating what went on in class, but I might beat the crap out of you if you don’t stop wasting my time.”

From the other side of the table, East is also listening intently, but he doesn’t meet my eyes when I try to catch his gaze.

“Right. Okay. So I guess some kids were busting her ass, you know? Saying shit like ‘I look up to strippers, too. Usually when they’re grinding on my face.’ And my sister says one of the Pastels asked if Ella had any home videos of her mom teaching her how to blow clients.”

I can feel my face grower darker and angrier at every word he says. I remind myself that he’s just the messenger and I can’t kill the messenger.

Neiman’s paler than a ghost by now. “And then some girl told her that her mom died of shame because Ella’s such a slut.”

I catch a flash of movement from the corner of my eye and turn to see Ella and Val making their way across the gleaming hardwood floor, empty trays in hand.

I’m tempted to chase after her, but as much as I want to comfort her, I know she’s not interested in hearing from me. Besides, comfort can only do so much.

Wade was right—something’s got to change here at school. Before she left, no one but maybe Jordan would’ve dared to talk to Ella like that.

I turn back to the guys. “That it?” I ask between gritted teeth.

Neiman and his friend exchange a worried glance.

No, that wasn’t it, I guess. I brace myself for the rest.

His friend picks up the story. “When we were walking out, someone asked Daniel Delacorte if dollar bills fell out when Ella spread her legs for him. He said, no, she’s too cheap. Only quarters.”

I stick my fists on my knees because I’m afraid if I lose control, I’m going to destroy this whole fucking school. “Text your sister,” I bark at Neiman. “I want some names.”

Neiman has his phone out faster than when he lunges at an opposing defense that’s after his quarterback. He taps out a quick message, and we sit there for nearly a minute waiting for a response. By the time his phone beeps, I’m ready to murder someone.

“Skip Henley is the one who said the dollar bill thing—”

Neiman doesn’t even finish the sentence before I’m on my feet. My periphery vision shows East standing up too, but I hold up a hand to stop him.

“I’ve got this,” I growl.

Something—grudging respect?—flickers through his eyes. Huh. Maybe my relationship with my brother isn’t completely unsalvageable.

I scan the dining hall until I find my target. Skip Henley. Kid’s been on my radar for a while now. He’s got a big mouth and likes to brag about the chicks he’s hooked up with—in degrading detail.

I stalk across the room toward Henley’s table, which falls silent at my approach.

“Henley,” I say coolly.

Skip warily twists around. He looks preppy as hell with his perfectly gelled hair and clean-shaven pretty-boy face. “Yeah?”

“You have Speech before lunch?”

He nods. “Yeah. So what?”

“So here’s the deal.” I pat my chest. “I’m gonna give you one shot. One free shot. Anywhere you like. And then I’m gonna beat you so bad, your own mother won’t be able to recognize you.”

He looks around, frantic for an escape. But he’s not getting past me, and whatever friends he once had pretend they don’t know him. Everyone at the table averts their gazes, fiddles with their phones, picks at their food. Skip’s on his own, and he knows it.

“I don’t know what you think I did,” he starts, “but—”

“Oh, you need a reminder? Sure. Let me help you out, bro—you talked trash about Ella Harper.”

Panic flares briefly in his eyes, but then it hardens into indignation. He realizes he doesn’t have many options, so he decides to double down on his stupidity. “So what?” he says again. “I was just speaking the truth. We all know that your girl has spent so much time on her back she’s got the word SEALY imprinted on her skin—”

I’m hauling him out of his chair before he can finish. My fingers bunch up the collar of his shirt, fisting the material as I bring his face close to mine. “You’ve either got balls of steel or a death wish. My vote’s on the second one.”

“Fuck you,” Henley shouts, his spittle flying toward my face. “You think you run this school, Royal? You think you can bring some whore to our place and shove her down our throats? My great-granddaddy knew General Lee! I’m not going to associate with trash like her.”

Then he launches himself at me with a roar, and I let him take his shot. It’s weak, like he is. Like all bullies really are. That’s why they’re bullies. Because they’re insecure idiots who try to make themselves feel better.

His fist glances off my jaw because he doesn’t know how to throw a punch. Laughing, I grab the dickhead by the throat and drag him against me.

“Does your daddy not love you enough to teach you how to fight, Skippy? Watch. This is a jab.” I punch his face twice in succession. “See how that works?”

I hear a loud snicker behind us and recognize it as Easton’s. My brother is enjoying the show.

Henley whimpers in pain and backs away from me. The smell of urine fills the air.

“Jesus Christ, he just pissed himself!” someone yells.

Disgusted, I grab Skip by the nape of his neck, kick his legs out from under him and slam him face-first on the ground. My knee digs into his spine as I bend my head toward him. “You say one word to Ella or any of her friends, and I’ll do a lot worse to you than a couple jabs to the face, you got me?”

He nods, weeping pitifully.

“Good.” I shove him as I get to my feet. “That goes for the rest of you,” I announce to the crowd. “You’re all gonna clean up your acts starting today, or what happened to this jackass will look like a fucking tea party.”

The entire dining hall is dead silent, and the nervous, fearful eyes I see all around me bring a wave of satisfaction. Wade was right about another thing—these kids need a leader, someone to stop them from devouring each other.

I might not have applied for the job, but it’s mine, whether I like it or not.

* * *

I
nstead of going to class
, I head for the men’s room on the first floor near the gym. There’s no stated rule that this bathroom is solely for the football team, but it’s worked out that way.

And Wade makes good use of it. He has Government this period, and since his mom started sleeping with the teacher, he hasn’t stepped one foot into the classroom. He says after all the carbs at lunch, it’s either sleep or screw and the latter’s more fun.

I make a production as I enter to alert the occupants that they’re not alone, but it doesn’t affect Wade at all. I hear breathy moans, interspersed with “yes, Wade, please, Wade” chanted out in a familiar rhythm.

Bored, I lean against the sinks and watch the closed door to one of the stalls rattle noisily as Wade starts giving it to her hard. From the sound of the voice, I’m guessing his post-lunch hookup is with Rachel Cohen.

Wade has the attention span of a peanut, but when he’s with a girl, he gives it his all. You can’t ask for more than that. I check my watch. I don’t want to miss next period.

I pound on the door. “Almost done, kids?”

The noise pauses and I hear a muffled cry of surprise along with a hushed reassurance. “I got you, babe…” a rustling and then, “…there you go. Feels good, don’t it. Don’t worry about ol’ Reed out there…Ahh, you like that. You want me to open the door…No? Okay, but he’s out there. He can hear you. Damn, you like that a lot. Yeah, babe, let go.”

A soft moan escapes and there’s more shuffling followed by a long, low groan. The finale is signaled by the sound of a toilet flushing.

The door opens and I catch Wade’s eyes and tap on my watch. He gives me a nod and finishes zipping his pants, then pulls Rachel in his arms and gives her a wet, noisy kiss. “Damn, babe, that was spectacular.”

She sighs against him. I recognize that sound. Heard a similar one from Ella when we fooled around. I’m dying to hear it again, and it pisses me off a little that she’s not letting me in.

I clear my throat loudly.

Wade half walks, half carries Rachel over to the door.

“I’ll see you after class?” she asks with hope in her eyes.

“You bet, babe.” He pauses and then looks over his shoulder at me.

I shake my head no.

He shrugs as if to say doesn’t hurt to ask. “I’ll be over after dinner. Keep this hot for me, okay?” He pats the front of her shortened uniform skirt. “I’ll be thinking of you all afternoon. It’s gonna be a rough time.”

Even after all these years with Wade, I can’t tell if he’s sincere or just that smooth.

“You mean a hard time,” she coos.

Okay, that’s enough.

“Wade,” I say impatiently.

“I’ll see you, Rach. I’ve got to confab with Reed here or I promise we’d be going another round.”

She hesitates and Wade has to physically push her out the door. After it shuts, he shoves the waste can in front of it and saunters over. I turn the faucets on to prevent little ears from listening in.

I get straight to the point. “Ella’s car was honey-bombed on Friday night at the Montgomerys’ party, and I just threw down with some asshole who crucified her during Speech. What the hell is going on?”

“Seriously? Did you not hear a word I said to you the last time we talked about this? Actually, you did—and you said you didn’t care,” he says pointedly.