Royal Disaster: The Complete Series

by Casey, Ember

  “Thanks, guys,” I say to the bodyguards. “I’ve got her from here.” I pick her up and spin her around, then when I’ve placed her on her feet again, lean in for a long, slow kiss. The guys hoot and holler at us, and I give them the finger without breaking the kiss.

  This is the dream. A successful band, an amazing show, and a beautiful woman to enjoy it all with. What more could a guy ask for?

  “Want something to drink?” I ask her.

  “Just some water would be fine.”

  I get her some water and pull her over to the sofa. Some of our groupies have also made their way back here, and the room is filled with laughter and beer bottles clinking. I pull Sophia onto my lap as Rider tells a story about some hilarious, idiotic thing he and Jameson did in one of the casinos back in Vegas.

  The next hour is a blur of drinks and stories. People filter in and out, and many of them come to congratulate me on the show—and on my marriage. I grin and thank them and hold Sophia in the crook of my arm, nestled beneath my chin.

  She’s quiet tonight. I know that means there’s something on her mind, and with everything that’s going on with her father, I shouldn’t be surprised. Hopefully our press conference gave the tabloids enough to focus on to keep the attention off the rest of her family. We’ve accomplished what we came back to do.

  Eventually, I start to get antsy. As much as I love this post-show hangout, all I want to do is get back to my room with Sophia.

  “You ready to go?” I murmur to her.

  She nods, so I rise and pull her up off the couch with me.

  “I think we’re going to head back to the hotel,” I tell the guys. “It’s been a long day.”

  “And we leave early for Austin,” Mick reminds me as I pull Sophia toward the door.

  It takes a few minutes to get back to the hotel, and Sophia is still strangely quiet.

  She’s tired, I tell myself. And worried about her dad. When we finally make it to the privacy of our room, though, I pull her back into my arms.

  “Are you doing okay?” I ask her.

  “Yeah,” she says. “I’m just exhausted.”

  I suspect there’s more to it than that, but I don’t push it. If she wants to talk to me about it, she’ll talk to me about it. So instead, I lean down and kiss her, teasing her bottom lip gently with my tongue. Her arms slide around my neck as she leans slowly into the kiss.

  I twist and guide her toward the bed, walking her backwards across the room. When we hit the mattress, I gently push her down, then lower myself on top of her.

  I can’t get enough of this woman—of the taste of her, or the scent of her, or the feel of her skin against mine. I never imagined I could want someone like this again.

  But when I reach for her skirt, she catches my wrist, stopping me.

  I life my head. What the hell is going on?

  She’s shaking her head back and forth. “I can’t do this.”

  I roll off of her, confused. “Can’t do what?”

  “Can’t get caught up in this.” She motions between us. “Not until you talk to me.”

  “I asked you if anything was wrong,” I say slowly, still not understanding.

  She sits partway up. “I need to know what’s going on with you,” she says. “What you’re hiding from me.”

  “I’m not hiding anything.”

  “Except whatever ‘The Lost Night’ is about.”

  I stand. “That has nothing to do with anything.”

  “Except obviously it does. And I feel like I’m missing something, some important part of you.” She rises off the bed, but she doesn’t move toward me. “Whatever happened that night affected you deeply. There’s no point in denying that—it’s clear every time you sing that song. And every time I ask you about it. When I thought this was just a casual thing, I was willing to let it go. I told myself it didn’t matter, that it was in the past. But now… Now my whole life has been turned upside down. Everything is changing so fast, and I’m afraid—terrified—that I don’t really know the man I married.” She finally steps closer. “You and your manager want so much from me, and it’s not that I won’t do it, it’s just…I want to know who I’m doing it for. I can’t give everything up for a man who insists on being a stranger.”

  “I’m not a stranger, Sophia. You know me.”

  “But do I really? How do I know anything when you’re keeping secrets from me?” Her eyes search mine. “What are you so afraid of? That I’ll judge you for the past? That I’ll walk away?”

  “I’m not afraid of anything.” I run my hand through my hair. “Look, it’s not that simple—”

  “Then make it simple. Talk to me.”

  Something about her tone and the look in her eyes terrifies me. She might not be threatening to walk away from me, but I can tell we’ve reached a turning point, the two of us. I know that if I don’t tell her the truth, I’m going to lose her. She might not leave me, but she’ll close off a part of herself to me forever.

  And I can’t let that happen.

  “You have to promise me you won’t tell anyone,” I say. “Not even your family.”

  “I promise.”

  I let out a shaky breath. It’s been a long time since I’ve mentioned any of this to anyone.

  And she still might walk away from you when she learns the truth. It’s a gamble, but it’s obvious from the look in her eyes that it’s one I have to take. I suck in a breath and blurt is out before I have the chance to stop myself.

  “I killed someone.”

  Royal Disaster 5

  This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, locations or incidents are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Ember Casey and Renna Peak

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Edition: February, 2018

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  Sophia

  I’m sure I must have heard Pax wrong. I’ve patiently waited to learn his secret, and now that he’s told me, I can only think that I want to unlearn it.

  There’s no way what he’s said is true. There’s no way I could have married a murderer.

  Pax looks at me for a long moment. “That’s all I’m going to say about it.”

  “You just told me you killed someone. And that’s all you’re going to say about it?” I shake my head. “You can’t just drop something like that—”

  “You asked me. You wanted to know…” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  “How can I understand? Surely there’s a story behind what you’re telling me. It can’t be as simple as ‘I killed someone.’”

  His shoulders drop, and there’s something so broken about him, I’m not sure I should push any further.

  I take a step toward him, taking his hand in mine. “Please, Pax—”

  “I said I don’t want to talk about,” he snaps, yanking his hand away. “Just…never mind.” His brows draw together, and his gaze narrows. “You should probably go.”

  “And where am I supposed to go?” I tilt my head. “I’d much rather we talk about this—”

  “I’m not…” He shakes his head. “I don’t…” He takes another step backward, and I could swear his eyes fill with tears. “Please. Just give me some spac
e.”

  “Okay. If that’s what you want.” I don’t even give him another glance. I turn on my heel and leave the hotel room.

  The thumping of music fills the hallway. I suppose I could go and join the party with Pax’s bandmates, but I don’t feel up to it at all. Victoria is staying here a few floors down, and that seems like the safest place for me at the moment.

  I walk over to the elevator and jab at the button to go down.

  “Hey.” A familiar voice comes from behind me. “Where’s Pax?”

  I turn to see one of the band members, Rider, approaching me.

  “He’s resting.” I turn back for the elevator, pressing again at the down button.

  “Yeah, you seem to tire him out pretty well.” The man stands beside me, pressing at the elevator button himself.

  I ignore the innuendo, silently praying for the elevator to arrive quickly.

  “He likes you. Haven’t seen him like this in a long time.” There’s a slight slur to his words, and it’s pretty apparent that the man is inebriated.

  “I like him, too.”

  “He doesn’t get like this anymore. Not since…” Rider chuckles. “Oops. Almost let the cat out of the bag.” He laughs again.

  I look up at Rider. “About Pax killing someone?”

  His smile falls as he seems to sober instantly. “You found out?”

  “He told me.” I turn back to face the closed doors.

  “He…told you?” The elevator dings and the doors slide open.

  I step inside, turning back to face Rider. “Yes, and thank you for confirming.” I touch the button for Victoria’s floor.

  Rider shakes his head, stepping onto the elevator beside me just as the doors close. “I can’t believe he told you about Kayla.”

  “Kayla,” I say the name under my breath. At least I know a little more now—perhaps enough to have Victoria help me fill in the blanks.

  “He actually said he killed her?” Rider shakes his head. “I mean, I know that’s probably what he thinks. But…shit.”

  “So he didn’t kill her?”

  His eyebrows draw together. “I’m under strict orders to never speak a word of anything to anyone. Ever. You know, except for when I tell one of the groupies…” He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “But he actually said he killed her?”

  I lift a brow, not really giving him an answer.

  “Fuck. I can’t believe he said that.”

  The elevator arrives at Victoria’s floor, and the doors slide open. I step off and turn back to face the man. “Have a good night, Rider. And if you see Pax…”

  The doors slide closed again before I have a chance to finish my message, which is just as well. I have no idea what I would want Rider to tell Pax, anyway.

  I knock on Victoria’s door, and she answers a few moments later.

  “Are you all right?” I ask her after the door opens.

  She gives me a slight nod, waving me inside. “Just tired. All these long distance flights are killing me.” She motions toward the sofa, but I hop onto the bed instead, patting the place beside me.

  Victoria sighs and crawls onto the bed next to me. “I’m not sure why I’m so tired.”

  “I’m sure I’m to blame.” I look over at my new sister. “I’m not exactly making life easy for anyone. Myself included.”

  She gives me a weak smile. “How was the concert?”

  “Amazing, as usual. He pulled me onstage with him tonight.”

  “I heard. It’s all over the internet.” Her smile widens. “You’re both doing a fantastic job selling the love angle. People are eating it up.”

  “Do you remember when I came to you and asked you to find out about his past?” My brow furrows. “I’m sorry to change the subject, but he said something tonight…”

  She frowns, searching my eyes. “He said what, exactly?”

  “He said…” I shake my head, not sure I should really be telling her this. “He told me he killed someone. And his bandmate, Rider, pretty much confirmed it in the elevator on my way down here.” I tilt my head. “You said there was nothing—nothing significant in Pax’s past. A murder would have shown up, right? It’s not like that’s something you can hide.”

  “We looked…” She pulls her laptop over from the table beside her and begins typing into it. “I had several people look. He has no criminal record. No record at all of anything. If he actually murdered someone—”

  “Her name was Kayla. That’s what Rider said, anyway.” I look over at what she’s typing. “Is there any way to look that up?”

  “Without a last name?” She frowns at the screen. “Unlikely. Even with an unusual name—”

  “What about in his town? The little town where he grew up? There couldn’t have been many Kaylas in that little place, right?”

  Victoria gives me a small shrug as she begins to type. Her eyes widen a moment later, and she turns the screen away from me so I can’t see it as she continues to read.

  “What is it?” I crane my neck to try to read what’s on the computer, but she turns it even more so I can’t read it.

  “I’m not sure yet, Sophia. I…I’ll need to look into it a little more. And I…I’m not sure what I should do with the information if this turns out to be true.”

  Fuck. I didn’t even think to tell her this was off the record. Not that I’m too concerned she’ll do anything to harm Pax or me particularly since he’s now a member of our family.

  “What is it?” I try to read her screen again, but she snaps the computer closed. My heart pounds loudly in my ears—if Pax was really involved in a murder, what am I supposed to do? “Just tell me what it is—”

  “I don’t know yet. All I know is there was a Kayla in his town. And like I said, I need to look into it more to figure out what happened.” Her frown deepens, and she reaches out and touches my hand.

  “Sophia, if Pax was really involved in this…” She shakes her head again. “You need to prepare yourself.”

  Pax

  I clean out the mini fridge, taking all the tiny bottles of alcohol and gulping them down one by one. How can I be so miserable when I thought I was so damn happy?

  I flop down on my back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Why is love so fucking complicated? I want to tell Sophia the full truth about what happened that night, but at the same time, she’s the absolute last person I want to know about any of this. Why couldn’t we have just gone on like before, having sex and being happy and not digging up every damn dark spot in our pasts?

  I rub my hands over my face. That’s not fair, either. Sophia has a lot going on right now—especially with her father’s health—and I know from experience that some things can’t stay buried forever, no matter how much I want them to.

  I shouldn’t have said anything to her. Even though I sing about that night at every show, it’s different when it’s in a song. Music has its own special power, capturing the moment but removing me from it, too. But talking about that night, especially talking about it with Sophia…it brings it all crashing back. I’m going to fucking puke. And I can’t close my eyes, because then all I see is Kayla’s face.

  With a groan, I roll over on the bed and reach for my suitcase on the floor, dragging it toward me. I pretty sure I have more alcohol stashed in there somewhere. Sure enough, I find an unopened bottle of whiskey underneath a pair of jeans. Exactly what I need.

  I spend the next half hour drinking myself into a stupor, trying to drown out my thoughts. It only moderately helps. I still see Kayla every time I close my eyes, still relive her last moments whenever I blink, but as the alcohol takes over my brain, I stop really giving a damn.

  My fingers fumble around for the television remote, and I flip on the TV. A cooking show appears on the screen, and when I can’t figure out how to change the channel, I just leave it on. Guess I’ll become an expert in how to make pasta primavera.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been watching when a knock sounds on th
e door.

  “Go away!” I shout at whoever’s out there. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. I want to watch this pretty lady make some fucking pasta and forget about everything else.

  The knock sounds again.

  “Go the fuck away!” I shout. I look around for something to throw at the door, then finally grab a pillow and chuck it. I miss by a mile, and the pillow hits the wall and falls to the floor with a soft thud.

  “Pax, open up,” comes a voice from the other side. It’s Mick.

  What the fuck is Mick doing at my door at this hour?

  “Go away!” I yell. “I’m sleeping.”

  “Pax, this is important,” Mick says. His voice is calm, but in that way that tells me he means business.

  With a groan, I haul myself off the bed and stumble toward the door. The room spins around me—this is the first time I’ve been on my feet since downing half that bottle of whiskey—but somehow I make it to the door without falling and breaking my neck. I get the door open on the second try.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I slur, leaning against the doorframe for support.

  Mick looks me up and down. “May I come in?”

  “Do whatever the hell you want,” I say, stumbling aside to let him through.

  He waits for me to make my way back to the bed. I sink down on the edge of the mattress—I’m not sure I trust myself to stand upright much longer. Mick doesn’t sit. He just crosses his arms and stares at me.

  “Rider came to see me,” he says finally.

  “Okay…” I say. “Why the fuck should I care?”

  “He said he ran into Sophia and she told him something interesting.”

  Sophia. I’d do anything to have her in my arms right now, to bury my face in her hair and breathe in the scent of her. Holding her makes the whole world fade away.

  “Are you listening, Pax?” Mick says. “He said you talked to her about Kayla.”