Broken Prince: A Novel (The Royals Book 2) (19 page)

“Everything.” I grab the joint and take a deep pull that leaves me light-headed. On the exhalation, I blurt out every bone-headed move I’ve made this year. “I shouldn’t have hooked up with Brooke. Shouldn’t have hid it from you. Shouldn’t have hid it from Ella.” The weed loosens not just the cobwebs in my head, but my tongue. “It’s my fault she ran off. I drove her away.”

“Yeah. You did.”

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t answer.

“I know it scared you when she left. It hurt you.” I turn to study his tense profile, and I tense up too as something occurs to me. “Do you love her?” I ask hoarsely.

His head whirls toward me. “No.”

“You sure about that?”

“I don’t. Not the way you do.”

I relax, just slightly. “Still. You care about her.”

Of course he does. We all do, because that girl flew into our house like a whirlwind and made everything come alive again. She brought steel and fire. She made us laugh again. She gave us a purpose—at first, it was us uniting against her. Then it turned into us standing beside her. Protecting her. Loving her.

“She made me happy.”

Helplessly, I nod. “I know.”

“And then she left. She left us and she didn’t look back. Like…”

Like Mom
, I finish for him, and a jolt of agony arrows through my chest.

“Whatever,” East mumbles. “It’s no biggie, okay? She’s back now, so it’s all good.”

He’s lying. I can tell he’s still terrified that Ella might pack up and leave again.

It terrifies me, too. Ella’s barely spoken to me since the night we kissed. The night she cried. Cried so hard that it broke my fucking heart. I don’t know how to make it better with her. I don’t know how to make it better for East. Or for Gideon.

But what I do know is that this isn’t just about Ella. Easton’s abandonment issues run deeper than that.

“Mom’s not coming back,” I force myself to say.

“No shit, Reed. She’s goddamn dead.” Easton starts to laugh, but it’s a hard, humorless sound. “I killed her.”

Jesus. “How many joints did you smoke today, little brother? ’Cause you’re talking crazy right now.”

His eyes are grim. “Nah, I’ve never been saner.” Another laugh pops out, but we both know he’s not getting amusement out of any of this. “Mom would still be here if it weren’t for me.”

“That’s not true, East.”

“Yeah, it is.” He takes a quick drag. Blows out another gray cloud. “It was my oxy, man. She took it and OD’d.”

I look over sharply. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“She found my stash. A few days before she died. She was in my room putting away some laundry, and the shit was in my sock drawer and she found it. Confronted me, confiscated it, and threatened to send me to rehab if she ever caught me with ’scrips again. I figured she flushed the pills, but…” He shrugs.

“East…” I trail off. Does he really believe this? Has he believed it for two whole years? I draw a slow breath. “Mom didn’t OD on oxy.”

He narrows his eyes. “Dad said she did.”

“That was just one of the things she was on. I saw the tox report. She died of a whole combination of shit. And even if it was just oxy, you know she could’ve easily gotten her own prescription.” I snatch the joint from his lax hand and suck deeply on it. “Besides, we both know it was my fault. You said it yourself—I’m the one who killed her.”

“I said that to hurt you.”

“Worked.”

Easton studies my profile. “Why’d you think it was you?”

Shame crawls up my spine. “Just felt like I wasn’t enough,” I admit. “I knew you were hooked on pills. I knew something was wrong with Gid. Night before she died, she and Dad argued over a fight I got in. My fighting bugged her. I liked it too much. She knew that and she hated it. I… I was just added stress for her.”

“You’re not the reason she died. She was messed up way before that.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re not the reason either.”

We go quiet for several moments. It’s awkward now, and my skin is starting to itch. Royals don’t sit around talking about their feelings. We bury them. Pretend nothing touches us.

East taps out the joint and tucks the roach into his little tin. “I’m going inside,” he mumbles. “Turning in early.”

It’s barely eight o’clock, but I don’t question him. “’Night,” I say.

He pauses near the side door. “You wanna ride to practice tomorrow?”

I almost choke on a sudden rush of happiness. Fuck, I’m a sappy loser, but…we haven’t ridden together in weeks. “Sure. See you in the morning.”

He disappears into the house. I stay seated on his truck, but my joy and relief are short-lived. I always knew I’d fix stuff with East. I expect to fix things with Ella, too. And the twins. Gid. My brothers never stay pissed at me for long, no matter how royally I screw up.

But sitting here trading confessions with East reminds me that I’m still keeping a secret from my dad. Worse, I was so desperate to make sure that secret stayed hidden that I actually encouraged him to bring Brooke back into our lives.

I suddenly feel like hurling, and it has nothing to do with emotions or all the weed I smoked. Brooke’s back because I was too chickenshit to own up to my mistakes. Why didn’t I just tell her to screw off? So what if she tells the world that I’m the father of her kid? One DNA test and her story would go up in flames.

Instead, I made a deal with her. I urged my father to take her back just so he wouldn’t find out what I did. So Ella wouldn’t find out. But Ella knows the truth now. And…I take a breath…maybe it’s time Dad knew the truth, too.

A
fter a pointless
and frustrating conversation with Callum, I stomp upstairs and throw myself on the bed. Callum is ticked off that I got a job and that I want to give my inheritance back. He lectured me for twenty minutes about it before I interrupted by asking him if he’s trying to control me because he can’t control his sons. That went over really well.

I don’t get what the big deal is. It’s my inheritance, isn’t it? And I don’t want it. As long as I have Steve’s money, people like Dinah and Brooke will always be trying to take it from me. So let them. What do I care?

I give myself an hour-long pity party before finally sitting up to text Val.

What’re u up to?

BBQ with the fam. It’s terrible.

Jordan tormenting u?

No, she’s upstairs packing. She’s visiting her grandmother (dad’s side). They send her off there periodically bc the old bat is rich rich rich. From the way they talk about her, I think she’s a bag of skin stuffed with rolled up hundies.

I laugh.

Sounds like she’ll live forever.

Possibly. I think she’s 80 now.

All this $$$ makes me anxious. I feel like if the Royals didn’t have any, they’d all be happier.

Babe, no one’s happy if they’re poor.

I ponder that thought. When Mom was alive, I was happy. Yeah, we had problems, and at times they seemed insurmountable, but we had a lot of laughter in our lives. There was never any doubt in my mind that she loved me with everything in her. It’s that unadulterated love that I miss. The pure, sweet unshakeable love that she had for me kept me warm at night and filled my empty stomach during the day.

And there’s no guarantee of happiness just bc you’re rich either.

Actual studies show u can buy happiness.

Okay! I give. Let’s buy some happiness with my $.

We were happy shopping the other day. I’m game for the mall if u are. But not tonight. Tonight I have to suffer. In fact, auntie is glaring at me right now. Gotta go.

I drop the phone on my bed and stare at the ceiling. I guess money can make things better to a certain extent. Maybe I’m approaching this the wrong way. Maybe I can buy the Royals happiness by buying Brooke off. She wants security in the form of the Royal bank account, right? What if I could get her to leave by offering her my inheritance? Callum doesn’t want it. I could live without it. I think…hmm, I think this might be a quality idea. I just wish I had someone to run it past.

I drum my fingers against the coverlet. There
is
someone who knows Brooke better than I do, and he happens to live in this house.

Argh. Is this an excuse to talk to Reed? Maybe. I push the thought aside and get up to find him.

It’s not easy. The Royals have scattered. Seb and Sawyer are probably at Lauren’s house. Easton’s door is locked and the music in his room is so loud he doesn’t hear my knock. Or maybe he does and is ignoring me. Down the hall, I peek into Reed’s room. His door is open, but he’s not around.

I wander around the big house until I finally hear some noise. It’s coming from the exercise room. A rhythmic thudding leads me down the stairs into the basement. The door is propped open, and I spot Reed pummeling his fists against a large bag. Sweat drips down his face and his upper body glistens.

Ugh, he’s so hot.

I tell my hormones to settle down and push the door open. His head swings toward me immediately.

“Hey,” I say quietly.

He catches the bag and steps back, wiping a wrapped hand across his face. His eyes are red and I wonder if some of the moisture on his face might be from something other than sweat.

“What’s up?” he asks, and his voice cracks. Using the pretense of needing a drink, he ducks his head and grabs a water bottle.

“The twins are gone. And Easton’s door is locked.”

He nods. “The twins went to see Lauren. Easton is…” He pauses, searching for the right words. “Easton is—” He stops again and shakes his head.

“What’s wrong?” I demand. “Is he okay?”

“More okay than he was a couple hours ago.”

“Are…
you
okay?”

There’s a beat. Then he slowly shakes his head again.

Despite the warning bells in my head, I take a step closer to him. This is bad. My defenses have crumbled. I can feel myself surrendering to him. He keeps drawing me in with his addictive kisses and his strength and the vulnerability he’s stopped trying to hide from me.

“What happened?” I ask.

I see him swallow. “I…” He clears his throat. “I tried to tell him.”

“Tell who what?”

“My dad. I walked right up to his study, all ready to tell him what I did.”

“What you did?” I echo stupidly.

“Brooke,” he spits out. “I was going to tell him about Brooke. But I chickened out. I stood there at his door and couldn’t bring myself to knock. I kept picturing his disgust and his disappointment and…so I bailed. I turned around and came down here and now I’m pounding this bag and pretending I’m not a coward and a selfish asshole.”

A sigh lodges in my throat. “Reed.”

“What?” he mutters. “You know it’s true. Isn’t that why you hate me? ’Cause I’m a selfish ass?”

“I…don’t hate you,” I whisper.

Something flares in his eyes. Surprise? Hope, maybe? Then it fades, replaced with a cloud of sorrow. “You said you’d never forgive me,” he reminds me.

“For what?” My lips twist into a bitter smile. “For having sex with someone before me? For trying to warn me away?”

He rubs his lips together uncertainly. “For everything. For not telling you about Brooke. For not being there for you when you needed me. For taking advantage of you the night Daniel drugged—”

“I knew what I was doing that night,” I interrupt. “If I said no at any time, you wouldn’t have touched me. I wanted it to happen, so please don’t make me feel bad by turning it into something it’s not.”

He tosses the bottle to the side and closes the distance between us. “Fine. I’m not sorry about that night anyway. I have a lot to apologize for, but I won’t lie to you. That was one of the most incredible nights of my life.” He raises a hand toward my cheek. “And every day that I woke up after that was better because I could look forward to holding you that night.”

I know what he means. After we both dropped our guards, things were so…perfect. I’d never had a real boyfriend before, and every second I spent with Reed, kissing, talking, falling asleep together, was new and wonderful and I loved it.

“I miss my mom,” he says in a choked voice. “I didn’t realize how much until you came along. I think you were my mirror. I looked at you and how strong you were and I realized I didn’t have an ounce of your steel in me.”

“That’s not true. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“Maybe you give me too much?”

I can’t help but laugh. “I don’t think that’s been the case for a while.”

He grins back ruefully. “Yeah, you got me there.” Then his face sobers up. “I want to tell you about my mom. You up for that?”

I nod slowly. I’m not sure what’s happening between us right now, but whatever it is, it feels…right. Something about this guy has always felt right, even when it was wrong, even when I swore I’d never fall for him again.

“Let me shower.” He releases me. “Don’t go anywhere,” he murmurs as he backs away. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

He escapes into the attached bathroom. If it was me or Val, the shower would’ve taken at least twenty minutes, but Reed is done in literally two minutes. He’s still wet when he comes striding out with one towel wrapped around his waist and another in his hand that he uses to rub against his short hair.

The water runs in an interesting path down his chest, over his ridged abs and then stopping at the terry cloth at his waist. The towel looks securely fastened, but I’m pretty sure that with one tug, the thing would give way.

“Your room or mine?”

I jerk my head up. He grins at me, but doesn’t say a word. Smart boy.

“Mine,” I answer.

He holds out his hand. “Lead the way.”