by Erin Watt
I race down the hall, emerging from the door several seconds after him. I instantly skid to a halt.
He’s in the back alley with two other guys, and it doesn’t look like they’re enjoying a smoke break.
Oh no. What has Easton gotten himself into?
The two guys have dark brown hair, slicked back away from their faces. They’re wearing white T-shirts and jeans that hang down low and I’d bet if they turned around I’d see their boxers. Not that I would want to. A metal chain hangs from one of their belt loops.
“Go inside, Ella.” Easton’s voice is harder and colder than I’ve ever heard from him before.
“Now hold up,” says the chain guy. “You can pay your debt off with her if you want.” He grabs his crotch. “Lend the bitch to me for a week and we’ll call it even.”
My life before the Royals was filled with seediness, and I recognize a shake down when I see one.
The Monday night football game runs through my mind.
“How much?” I ask Mr. Chain.
“Ella—” Easton starts.
I cut him off. “How much does he owe you?”
“Eight grand.”
I nearly faint, but beside me, Easton tries to shrug it off like eight grand is pocket change. “I’ll have it next week. All you have to do is sit tight.”
If it was pocket change he wouldn’t be here in the back of the bar being threatened, and Mr. Chain knows it. “Yeah right. You rich kids live on credit, but not with me. I don’t carry your broke asses on my books for longer than a week because I gotta pay the bills. So pony up your cash or you get to be this week’s warning to all your pussy friends that Tony Loreno isn’t anyone’s pawn broker.”
Easton’s shoulders set in a hard line as he slightly adjusts his stance. Shit. He’s preparing for a fight, and we all know it.
Tony reaches inside his pocket and fear spikes in my chest.
“Stop.” I dig into my purse for my keys. “I’ve got your money. Wait here.”
“What the hell, Ella?” Easton barks out.
No one waits. They all follow me to my car.
33
As I hit the key fob to unlock the trunk, I scan the parking lot for Reed’s Range Rover. I don’t see it anywhere, which means he probably parked in one of the spots along the other side of the building.
Relief floods my stomach, because Reed stumbling onto this little showdown would be the worst thing that could happen right now. He already beat the crap out of one guy tonight and I know he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again, especially to back up his brother.
“You better not be reaching for a weapon in there,” Tony hisses out, hovering behind me.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, buddy, I keep an arsenal of assault rifles in the trunk of my car. Chill.”
I lift up the felt square that covers the compartment for the spare tire and reach for the plastic baggie I stashed underneath the jack. There’s a heavy feeling in my chest as I pull the stack of cash from the bag and count out eight grand worth of bills.
Easton doesn’t say a word, but he watches me with a frown. He frowns even harder when I slap the bills into Tony’s hand.
“There. You guys are square now. Pleasure doing business with you,” I say sarcastically.
Smirking, Tony stands there and counts the money. Twice. When he starts to do it a third time, Easton growls.
“It’s all there, jackass. Get the hell out of here.”
“Watch yourself, Royal,” Tony warns. “I still might make an example of you just because I feel like it.”
But we all know he won’t. A beating would only draw attention to us and to his “business” dealings.
“Oh, and you can place your bets somewhere else from now on,” Tony says coldly. “Your money’s no good to me anymore. I’m tired of seeing your ugly face.”
The two guys stalk off, Tony tucking the cash in his back pocket, and yep, I can see his boxers hanging out of his pants.
When they’re gone, I spin around to Easton. “What is wrong with you? Why would you ever associate with creeps like that?”
He just shrugs.
Adrenaline surges through my blood as I stare at him in disbelief. We could have been hurt. Tony could have killed him. And he’s standing there like he doesn’t give a shit about any of it. The corner of his mouth is even quirked up as if he’s trying not to smile.
“This is fun for you?” I yell. “Almost getting killed gives you a boner, is that it?”
He finally speaks. “Ella—”
“No, just shut up. I don’t want to hear it right now.” I shove my hand in my purse and grab my phone, then text Reed to let him know Easton’s riding back with me and that he should meet us at home.
I’m still holding the plastic baggie in my other hand, so I toss it into the trunk, trying not to think about how empty it is. Eight grand gone, plus another three hundred from my shopping trip with Val today. Until Callum gives me next month’s ten-grand allowance, I only have seventeen hundred dollars in my escape fund.
I hadn’t planned on running, not after all the positive changes in my life, but right now, I’m tempted to take the money and go.
“Ella—” Easton starts.
I hold up my hand. “Not now. I have to find Val.” I dial her number, hoping she hears it inside the club.
Fortunately, she answers. “Hey, is everything okay?”
I glare at Easton. “It is now. Can you meet us outside at the car? The club isn’t going to let us back in.”
“On my way.”
“Ella,” Easton tries again.
“I’m not in the mood.”
He clamps his mouth shut and we wait in tense silence for Val to appear. When she does, I force Easton to sit in the cramped back. Val opens her mouth to object but decides, wisely, that it’s pointless.
The drive to her house is in complete silence.
“Call me tomorrow?” she says as she climbs out. Easton follows her out of the car.
“Yeah, and I’m sorry about tonight.”
She gives me a forgiving smile. “Shit happens, babe. No biggie.”
“Night, Val.”
She waves her fingers and disappears inside the Carrington mansion. Quietly, Easton slides into the passenger seat. I clutch the steering wheel in a death grip and force myself to focus on driving, but it’s hard to do when I’m seconds away from smacking the guy beside me.
About five minutes into the drive back home, my breathing finally steadies, and Easton’s voice drifts over to me.
“I’m sorry.”
There’s genuine regret there, and I turn to look at him. “You should be.”
He hesitates. “Why do you have money hidden in your car?”
“Because I do.” It’s a stupid answer, but that’s all he’s getting from me. I’m too pissed off to offer anything else.
But Easton proves that he knows me better than I think. “My dad gave it to you, didn’t he? That’s how he convinced you to come live with us, and now you’re keeping it hidden in case you need to skip town.”
I clench my teeth.
“Ella.”
I jump when his warm hand covers mine, and then his head moves to rest on my shoulder. His soft hair tickles my bare skin, and I force myself not to run a comforting hand through it. He doesn’t deserve comfort right now.
“You can’t leave,” he whispers, his breath fanning over my neck. “I don’t want you to go.”
He kisses my shoulder, but there’s nothing sexual about it. Nothing romantic in the way his hand tightens over my knuckles.
“You belong with us. You’re the best thing that ever happened to this family.”
Surprise filters through me. Okay. Wow.
“You’re ours,” Easton mumbles. “I’m sorry about tonight. I really am, Ella. Please…don’t be mad at me.”
My anger melts away. He sounds like a lost little boy, and I can’t stop myself from stroking his hair now. “I’m not mad. But dammit, Easton
, the gambling needs to stop. I might not be there to bail you out next time.”
“I know.” He groans. “You shouldn’t have had to bail me out tonight. I promise I’ll pay you back, every last cent. I…” He lifts his head and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Thank you for doing that. I mean it.”
Sighing, I turn my eyes back to the road. “You’re welcome.”
* * *
At the house, Reed is already waiting in the driveway. He glances from me to Easton in suspicion, but I head inside before he can question what went down tonight. Easton can fill him in. I’m too tired to rehash it.
I walk into my bedroom and strip off my dress, replacing it with the oversized T-shirt I sleep in. Then I duck into the bathroom to remove my makeup and brush my teeth. It’s only ten o’clock, but that scene with Tony left me drained, so I shut off the light and climb into bed.
It’s a long time before Reed comes to my room. An hour at least, which tells me that he and Easton must have had a really long talk.
“You had my brother’s back tonight.” His husky voice finds me in the darkness and the mattress shifts as he slides in next to me.
I don’t resist when he wraps his strong arms around me and rolls me over so that my head is resting on his bare chest.
“Thank you,” he says, and he sounds so touched that I shift in discomfort.
“I just paid off his debt. No big deal,” I answer, downplaying my role in tonight’s events.
“Fuck that. It is a big deal.” He strokes the small of my back. “Easton told me about the money in your car. You didn’t have to give it to that bookie, but I’m so grateful that you did. I tore Easton a new asshole tonight for getting involved with that guy. His other bookie is legit, but Loreno is bad news.”
“Hopefully he stops using bookies altogether after tonight.” I’m not convinced he will, though. Easton feeds off the thrill he gets from gambling or drinking or screwing everyone he can. That’s just who he is.
Reed tugs me on top of him and we both laugh when the sheets get tangled up in our legs. He kicks them away, then brings my head down and kisses me. He strokes me over my shirt as his tongue chases mine into my mouth, and then he says, “Are you pissed that I threw down with that creep tonight?”
I’m too distracted by his wandering hands to understand the question. “You beat up Tony?”
“No, that dickweed Scott.” Reed’s features harden. “Nobody’s allowed to talk to you like that. I won’t let them.”
Reed Royal, my very own dragon slayer. I smile and bend down to kiss him again. “Maybe this says something about me, but I think it’s hot when you go all caveman on me.”
He grins. “Just say the word and I’ll knock you over the head with a club and drag you into a cave.”
I burst out laughing. “Aw, that’s so romantic.”
“Never said I was good at romance.” His voice thickens. “I’m good at other things, though.”
He totally is. We stop talking as our lips meet again, and then we lie there kissing, while his hands run up and down my body. When his finger slides inside me, I forget all about the club and the bookie and Easton’s plea for me never to leave. Hell, I forget my name.
Reed is the only thing that exists. Right here, right now, he’s the center of my universe.
* * *
The weekend passes quickly. Callum comes home on Saturday morning, so Reed and I are forced to sneak off to fool around in the pool house. And on Saturday night, Valerie and I go out for dinner and I finally cave and tell her about all the dirty things I do with Reed Royal. She’s thrilled about it, but points out that we’re still not doing the dirtiest thing of all and proceeds to tease me about being a prude.
But I don’t mind the slow pace Reed has set. A part of me is definitely ready to cross that final hurdle, but he keeps holding back, almost as if he’s afraid to go there. I don’t know why he would be, considering we’re getting each other off on a daily basis in other ways.
On Monday, Reed drives me to work, and to my dismay, the school day flies by. Today is the will reading, but no matter how hard I beg my watch to tick slower, the final bell rings before I’m ready and then I’m walking down the front steps toward the waiting Town Car.
Callum doesn’t say much as Durand drives us into the city, but when we reach the gleaming building that houses the law offices of Grier, Gray, and Devereaux, he turns to me with an encouraging smile.
“It might get rough in there,” he warns. “But just know that Dinah is all bark and no bite. For the most part, anyway.”
I haven’t seen Steve’s widow since our first meeting at her penthouse, and I’m not looking forward to the reunion. Neither is she apparently, because she sneers the moment Callum and I enter the fancy office.
I’m introduced to four lawyers and ushered to a comfortable sofa. Callum is about to sit beside me when one of the lawyers shifts his body and a familiar figure steps out from behind it.
“What are you doing here?” Callum snaps. “I specifically ordered you not to come.”
Brooke is unfazed by his tone. “I’m here to support my best friend.”
Dinah steps up beside her and the two women link arms. They could be sisters, with their long blonde hair and delicate features. I suddenly realize I don’t know anything about their history, and I probably should have asked Callum about it a long time ago, because obviously the two of them are super tight.
If we’re choosing sides, then I guess Brooke and I are occupying opposite corners. My loyalties are with the Royals. By the disdain in Brooke’s eyes, she knows it. I guess she thought I’d be with her. That she, Dinah, and I would team up against the evil Royal males and now I’m betraying them.
“I asked her to come,” Dinah says coldly. “Now let’s get started. We have early dinner reservations at Pierre’s.”
We’re about to sit down to hear her dead husband’s will and she’s worrying about missing her dinner reservations? This woman is really something.
Another man separates himself from the group. “I’m James Dake. Mrs. O’Halloran’s attorney.” He offers his hand to Callum, who looks at the hand and then at Dinah in disbelief.
I’m not familiar with this sort of thing but it’s easy to see that Callum is confused and unhappy about Dinah bringing both Brooke and another lawyer.
Callum reluctantly lowers himself on the couch, while Brooke and Dinah sit on the one opposite us. The lawyers seat themselves in various chairs, while the one behind the desk—the Grier of Grier, Gray and Devereaux—shuffles some papers and clears his throat.
“This is the last will and testament of Steven George O’Halloran,” he begins.
The gray-haired lawyer spits out a bunch of legal gibberish about bequests to various people I’ve never heard of, money left in trust to a few charities, and something called a life estate being granted to Dinah. Dinah’s lawyer frowns at this so it must not be good for Dinah. There are also substantial gifts to Callum’s boys, in case, and the lawyer coughs before he recites the line, “Callum has pissed away his fortune on booze and blondes before I kick off.”
Callum merely smiles.
“And to any legal issue surviving my death, I leave…”
I’m too busy trying to figure out what ‘legal issue’ means to focus on the rest of Grier’s sentence, so I jolt in surprise when Dinah lets out an outraged screech.
“What? No! I will not stand for this!”
I lean in to Callum for an explanation of what the lawyer said, and I’m stunned by his answer. Apparently I’m the legal issue. Steve left me half of his fortune, somewhere to the tune of…I feel faint when Callum tells me the number. Holy crap. The father I never even met didn’t leave me millions. He didn’t leave me tens of millions.
He left me hundreds of millions.
I’m going to pass out. I really am.
“And a fourth of the company,” Callum adds. “The shares will be transferred into your name when you’re twenty-one.”
>
Across the room, Dinah shoots to her feet, wobbling on her impossibly high heels as she swings around to glare at the lawyers. “He was my husband! Everything he had is mine and I refuse to share it with this gutter brat who might not even be his child!”
“The DNA testing—” Callum starts angrily.
“Your DNA testing!” she shoots back. “And we all know the lengths you’ll go to when it comes to protecting your precious Steve!” She spins toward the lawyers again. “I demand another test, one that’s conducted by my people.”
Grier nods. “We would be happy to accommodate that request. Your husband left several DNA samples that are being stored at a private lab in Raleigh. I took care of the paperwork myself.”
Dinah’s lawyer speaks up reassuringly. “We’ll get a sample of comparison from Miss Harper before we leave. I can supervise the process.”
The adults keep talking and bickering among themselves, while I sit there in stunned silence. My mind keeps tripping over the words “hundreds of millions.” It’s more money than I could have ever dreamed of, and a part of me feels guilty for inheriting it. I didn’t know Steve. I don’t deserve half of his money.
Callum notices my stricken face and squeezes my hand, while Brooke’s lips curl in distaste. I ignore the waves of hostility rolling toward me and concentrate on drawing air in and out of my lungs.
I didn’t know Steve. He didn’t know me. But as I sit here battling my shock, I suddenly realize that he loved me. Or at least, he’d wanted to love me.
And my heart aches that I never got the chance to love him back.
34
Hours after the will reading, I’m still numb. Still shocked. Still sad. I don’t know what to do with the ball of pain in my stomach, so I just curl up on my bed and let my mind go blank.
I don’t let myself think about Steve O’Halloran and how I’ll never, ever know him. Really know him.
I don’t think about Dinah’s threats as Callum and I were leaving the law office, or the angry words Brooke hurled at Callum when he refused to take her dinner so they could “talk.” I guess she wants him back. I’m not surprised.
