Broken Prince: A Novel (The Royals Book 2) (25 page)

“You and what army?” some unwise asshat yells from the crowd.

Easton and I jump forward, but I push my brother behind me. “I’ve got this.”

The crowd parts and the wise-ass with the loud mouth is left standing all alone. I haul off and throw one fist at his jaw, and he drops like a stone. Damn, that felt good.

Then I smile at the crowd and ask, “Who’s next?”

As they all turn away in gutless silence, I brush my hands off and walk back to my girl and my brothers. Wade throws me a spare shirt, which I quickly shrug on.

“The last bit was a nice touch,” Ella murmurs.

“Thanks. I’ve been saving it for the right occasion.” I take her bruised hand in mine. “The family that fights together, stays together.”

“Is
that
the Royal motto? I thought it was something else.”

The adrenaline has worn off and I can feel her trembling. I tuck her close to me, head under my chin, body wrapped in my arms. “It might have been, before you came, but I think that’s what it is now.”

“It’s not a bad motto.” With a wry look, she glances around at the scattering crowd, the remnants of tape strewn on the steps, and the droplets of blood on the limestone. “So. Is this our first date?”

“No way. Our first date was...” I trail off. What was our first date?

“You haven’t taken me on a date, dummy.” She punches me—or attempts to. It’s kind of like a bird’s kiss at this point given that her arms are as weak as jellyfish.

“Damn. I think you’re right.”

“Don’t knock yourself for it. I’ve never been on a date before. Do people even go on dates anymore?”

I grin, because finally I can do something for her. “Oh, baby, you got a lot to learn.”

* * *

I
t doesn’t take long
for news of the morning’s activities to reach the headmaster. I barely get my ass in my chair for my first class before the teacher informs me I’m wanted in Beringer’s office. When I get there, I discover that Ella and Jordan were pulled out of class too, and all the parents were called. Fuck. This isn’t going to be good.

The office is crowded. Ella and I sit on one side with my father behind us. A stone-faced Jordan is next to me, and I can feel her vibrating between fear and rage.

Jordan’s victim, a freshman named Rose Allyn, sits on the far side of the room. Her mom has been complaining non-stop about how she’s missing an important meeting for this.

Finally, Beringer sweeps in and closes the door with a bang. When Ella jumps at the noise, both Dad and I put a hand out to steady her—his on her shoulder and mine on her knee. Our eyes meet, and for once, I see approval in his. Whatever Beringer decides to do, it’s not going to matter to Dad. What matters to him is that I stood up for our family, that I’m not the selfish prick I act like most of the time.

Beringer clears his throat, and we all turn toward him. In his thousand-dollar suit, he’d be right at home in Dad’s boardroom. Idly, I wonder if he bought that hand-tailored suit using the money my dad paid him after I beat up Daniel and what he’ll buy out of the bribes he’ll pocket after today’s meeting.

“Violence is never the answer,” he begins. “A civilized society begins and ends with spirited discourse, not fist fights.”

“I thought the saying was an armed society is a polite society,” Dad interjects dryly.

Ella’s hand flies up to her mouth to cover a laugh.

Beringer glares at us. “I’m beginning to see why the Royals have such a difficult time getting along with their classmates.”

“Wait a minute.” Ella straightens indignantly. “None of the Royals taped anyone to a wall.”

“Well, not this year,” I murmur.

Dad cuffs me lightly across the back of my head while Ella shoots me a dirty look. “What? You think these assholes fall in line because I say so?” I mutter under my breath.

“Mr. Royal, if I may have your attention,” Beringer barks out before Ella can respond.

I kick out my legs and throw an arm across the back of Ella’s chair. “Sorry,” I reply with absolutely zero remorse. “I was explaining to Ella that Astor really doesn’t tolerate things like taping half-naked freshmen to the front of the school. She has this weird idea that public school is better.”

“Callum, you need to exert better control over your son,” Beringer orders.

Dad’s not having any of that. “I wouldn’t be here if the school actually enforced its rules.”

“I agree. You interrupted a seven-figure real-estate deal because you’re not capable of handling these kids,” Rose’s mother speaks up. “What are we paying you for?”

Ella and I exchange an amused look as Beringer turns bright red. “These aren’t teenagers. They’re wild animals. Look at how many fights Reed has been in.”

“I’m not going to apologize for standing up for my family,” I say in a bored voice. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure me and mine are safe.”

Even Mark, Jordan’s dad, grows impatient. “Name calling is hardly helpful. Clearly the students have had a disagreement about something and took care of it amongst themselves.”

“A disagreement?” Ella echoes in outrage. “This is not a disagreement! This is—”

“It’s called growing up, Ella,” Jordan interrupts. “Which is what I suggest you do. And please, don’t even try to tell me that if some girl looked sideways at your man, you wouldn’t take her down.”

“I wouldn’t tape her up,” Ella retorts.

“You’d just shove her face in the locker? That’s so much better?” Jordan snipes.

“Don’t try to compare us. We are
nothing
alike.”

“You’ve got that right! You’re from the gutter—”

“Jordan!” Mark booms. “That’s enough.” He looks warily at Dad, whose previously blank face is now sporting a deep frown. Mark presses his hands on his daughter’s shoulders, as if to keep her in her chair, or maybe to remind her who’s in charge. “We’re all sorry an event happened at school that isn’t becoming of the conduct code of Astor Prep. The Carringtons are prepared to make it right for everyone.”

Beringer hems and haws a bunch of bullshit about how we should all be punished, but when no one else steps up, he sniffs. “Everyone is dismissed, then.”

“Finally,” Rose’s mom exclaims. She darts out without even a backward glance to her daughter.

After a short silence, Ella walks over to Rose and lays a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Rose. I’ll walk you to your locker.”

Rose gives her a weak smile but follows her out.

“Your ward has certainly changed you,” Mark Carrington says stiffly.

Dad and I exchange a mutual look of pride.

“I hope so,” I answer, even though Carrington was probably addressing Dad. I stand up and shrug at Jordan’s father. “She’s the best thing to happen to the Royals in a long time.”

“
T
his place is
way too fancy,” I hiss to Reed on Thursday evening. He insisted on taking me out tonight, but when he said “dinner” I hadn’t expected such an extravagant restaurant. My black dress is much too plain compared to all the cocktail gowns I’m seeing everywhere. “I’m underdressed.”

He clasps my hand tighter and practically drags me to the hostess station. “You look hot,” is all he says, and then he tells the black-clad hostess that we’ve got reservations—Royal, table for two.

She guides us past secluded tables that are tucked away between huge planters of sweeping ferns. There’s a fountain in the middle of the room with spouting arcs of water, and what looks like a waterfall behind the bar. It’s the fanciest restaurant I’ve ever been to in my life.

Reed pulls out my chair and settles across from me at the cozy table. A waiter comes by with two leather-bound menus and a wine list, which Reed waves away. “Water’s fine,” he tells the guy, and I’m grateful, because I hate wine. It tastes gross.

When I flip open the menu, I’m confused to find that there aren’t any prices listed. Crap. That’s never a good sign. It means everything here costs more than most people’s college tuition.

“We should’ve just gone to the seafood place on the pier,” I grumble at him.

“For your first date? No way.”

I suddenly wish I’d never made that confession about how I’ve never been on a date. I should have known Reed would go overboard. This guy never does anything halfway.

“Why is it so important to you that I have a real first date?” I ask with a sigh.

“Because you have some shitty memories of me and I want to replace those with good ones,” he says simply, and I melt right along with the wax that’s sliding down the sides of the thin white candles in the center of our table.

The waiter returns with our water, and we skip the appetizers and order our main course, then sit there staring at each other for a moment. It’s kind of surreal being out on a date with Reed Royal. When I told Val about our plans for tonight, she teased me about how I’ve done everything backwards. I guess the first date is supposed to come before all the fooling around, but hey, my life has never been traditional, so why start now?

“Have you heard any updates on Rose?” he asks.

I shake my head. Poor Rose hasn’t been back to school since Jordan tortured and humiliated her. “No, everyone’s left me alone except for Val. I think they’re scared of me.”

“If you asked, someone would cough up the details.”

“I kind of want to call her, but maybe she just wants to forget Astor exists.”

“I think you should call,” Reed encourages.

“I feel like we’re always fighting some huge battle,” I say glumly. “Like, yeah, people have stopped acting like psychos at school, but everything else is still a mess.”

A furrow appears in his forehead. “We’re not a mess.”

“Not you and me,” I agree. “But…”

“But what?”

I draw a deep breath. “Brooke and Dinah will be back next week.”

His expression clouds over. “You really want to ruin your first date by talking about those two?”

“We have to talk about them eventually,” I point out. “What are we going to do about them? Dinah’s blackmailing Gideon. Brooke’s marrying your dad and having his baby.” I bite my bottom lip in dismay. “I don’t think they’re ever going away, Reed.”

“We’ll make them go away,” he says harshly.

“How?”

“I…have no idea.”

I dig my teeth deeper into my lip. “I don’t have a solution to the Dinah thing, but I might have an idea about Brooke.”

He looks at me in suspicion. “What kind of idea?”

“Remember the day you overheard us talking in the kitchen? I asked her what her end game was, what she really wants, and her answer was money.” I lean forward on my elbows. “That’s all she’s ever wanted—money. So let’s give it to her.”

“Trust me, I tried. I offered her cash.” He makes a disgusted sound under his breath. “She wants everything, Ella. The entire Royal fortune.”

“What about the O’Halloran fortune?”

There’s a sharp intake of breath. Then he narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t even think about it, babe.”

“Why not?” I argue. “I already told you, I don’t want Steve’s money. I don’t want a fourth of Atlantic Aviation.”

“And you want
Brooke
to have it?” he says in disbelief. “We’re talking hundreds of millions of dollars here.”

He’s right—it’s an insane amount of money. But my inheritance from Steve has never felt real to me. All the paperwork is still being processed and there are still a bunch of legal hoops to jump through, so until someone hands me a check with all those zeros on it, I don’t consider myself rich. I don’t
want
to be rich. All I ever wanted is to live a normal life that didn’t involve having to take my clothes off for strangers.

“If it gets her off our backs, then I don’t care if she gets the money,” I answer.

“Well, I care. Steve left
you
that money, not Brooke.” His hard expression says not to argue with him. “You’re not giving her a cent, Ella. I mean it. I’m going to fix things, okay?”

“How?” I once again challenge.

And once again, he looks frustrated. “I’ll figure it out. Until then, I don’t want you doing anything without talking to me first, all right?”

“Fine,” I concede.

He reaches across the table and twines his fingers through mine. “We’re not talking about this anymore,” he says firmly. “Let’s finish our meal and pretend, at least for one night, that Brooke Davidson doesn’t exist. Sound good?”

I squeeze his hand. “Sounds awesome.”

And that’s what we do…for about ten minutes. But my earlier fear that we’re always fighting some kind of battle ends up being an omen—just as our waiter delivers the chocolate mousse cake we decided to share, a familiar figure walks past our table.

Reed has his head down because he’s shoving his fork into the cake slice, but he looks up sharply the moment I hiss, “Daniel’s here.”

We both turn toward the table that Daniel Delacorte and his date are being escorted to. I don’t recognize the girl he’s with, but she seems kind of young. A freshman, maybe?

“He’s cradle-robbing now?” Reed mutters.

“You know that girl?”

“Cassidy Winston. Little sister of one of my teammates.” His lips flatten. “She’s fifteen.”

Worry gnaws at me. She’s only fifteen…and having dinner with a scumbag who likes to drug girls.

I sneak another peek across the room. Daniel and Cassidy have sat down, and she’s gazing at him like he hung the stars and moon. Her cheeks are flushed pink, which makes her look even younger than she already is.

“Why is he going out with freshmen?” I push the dessert plate toward Reed. My appetite is totally gone. So is his, apparently, because he doesn’t take another bite.

“Because no one in our grade will touch him,” Reed says grimly. “All the older chicks at Astor know what he did to you. And after the Worthington party, Savannah made sure everyone knew he did the same thing to her cousin.”

“Do you think Cassidy knows about it?”

Reed is quick to shake his head. “She wouldn’t be out with him if she knew. And I don’t think she told her family who she was going out with tonight, because trust me, Chuck would’ve broken Delacorte’s face if he knew that creep was after his sister.”

My gaze returns to the pretty freshman. She’s giggling over something Daniel just said. Then she reaches for her glass and takes a dainty sip, and a spark of fear goes off inside me.

“What if he slipped something into her drink?” I whisper to Reed, my pulse speeding up.

“I don’t think he’s stupid enough to drug a girl in a place like this,” Reed assures me.

“No, he’s not stupid…but he’s desperate.” My heart beats even faster. “The junior and senior girls aren’t touching him, and now he’s asking out
freshmen
. He’s definitely getting desperate.” I abruptly pull my napkin off my lap and drop it on the table. “Someone needs to warn her. I’m going to talk to her.”

“No—”

“Reed—”

“—let me,” he finishes.

I blink in surprise. “You’re really going over there?”

He’s already pushing his chair back. “Of course. I’m not letting him hurt anyone else, babe.” He stands up. “Wait here. I’ll talk care of it.”

I quickly rise to my feet. “Ha. I’m coming with you. I know how you
take care
of things, and there’s no way I’m letting you cause a scene in such a fancy restaurant.”

“Who says I’ll cause a scene?” he protests.

“Do I need to remind you what happened at school on Monday?”

“Do I need to remind you who started it off by dragging Jordan by her hair?”

He’s got me there. We grin at each other, but our humor fades when we turn in unison and march across the room.

Daniel’s features darken the moment he spots us. Cassidy has her back to us, but her date’s fierce eyes trigger an alarmed murmur from her.

“Evening,” Reed drawls.

“What do you want, Royal?” Daniel mutters.

“Just wanted to have a word with your date.”

“Me?” Cassidy squeaks, her brunette head swiveling toward Reed.

“Cassidy, right?” he says easily. “I’m Reed. Your brother and I play football together.”

The freshman looks like she’s about to faint over the fact that Reed knows her name. Daniel notices her awed expression, too, and his lips form an ugly scowl.

“Yeah,” she says in a breathy voice. “I know who you are. I go to all of Chuck’s games.”

Reed nods. “Nice. Appreciate your school spirit.”

“Hate to be rude,” Daniel says coldly, “but we’re kind of on a date here.”

“Hate to be rude,” Reed mimics, his blue eyes focused on Cassidy, “but your date’s a rapist, Cass.”

She gasps. “W-what?”

“Royal!” Daniel growls.

Reed ignores him. “I know he cleans up nice in his thousand-dollar suit,” he tells Cassidy, “but this guy is a straight-up creep.”

Two pink splotches appear on her cheeks. She glances at Daniel, then back at me and Reed. “I don’t understand.”

I speak up in a quiet voice. “He shot me up with Ecstasy at a party. And he would have raped me if my boyfriend,” I gesture at Reed, “hadn’t shown up in time to stop him.”

Cassidy swallows repeatedly. “Oh my God.”

“We can drive you home,” Reed says gently. “Do you want us to?”

She looks at Daniel again, whose entire face is beet-red. His fists are clenched on the linen tablecloth, and I’m pretty sure he’s seconds away from launching himself at Reed.

“You’re too good for him,” I tell her. “Please, let us take you home.”

Cassidy goes quiet for a moment. She just sits there, staring at Daniel.

Other people are staring, too, curious gazes turned in our direction even though none of us had even raised our voices.

Finally, Cassidy scrapes her chair back and stands up. “I’d love a ride home,” she whispers, primly smoothing out the bottom of her floral dress.

“Cassidy,” Daniel hisses, clearly embarrassed. “What the hell?”

She doesn’t glance his way. Instead, she silently comes up beside me and the three of us leave the room. When we stop so Reed can hand three crisp hundreds to the hostess, I make the mistake of looking back at Daniel.

He’s still at the table, stiff as a statue, his mouth set in a tight line. He doesn’t look embarrassed anymore, but livid. Our eyes don’t meet, because he’s not looking at me. He’s staring at Reed with such unconcealed rage that it sends a shiver scurrying up my spine.

Swallowing, I wrench my gaze away and follow Reed and Cassidy out the door.