Cracked Kingdom

by Erin Watt

  “It was hard not to,” he admits.

  I sigh and rub my nose against his chest, inhaling his warm, male scent. “She’s afraid. Her whole life is going to be dismantled. She had dreams of joining the country club and hosting teas with the first ladies of Bayview. Now she’ll be lucky not to be stoned at the gas station.”

  “I’d rather be stoned at the gas station than drink weak piss with Felicity’s mom,” Easton declares.

  “Anyone in their right mind would take the gas station over Felicity’s mom. There are hotdogs at the gas station,” I remind him.

  “Good point. Nectar of the gods right there.” He chuckles and then groans. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.” He tips my chin up. “I’m going to take care of you. My dad will, too. He’s not going to leave you out to dry. You’re a Royal now.”

  He seals this promise with a kiss.

  Being a Royal doesn’t mean that my last name is the same as Easton’s or that I live under the same roof or wear the Astor Park Prep badge on my clothes. It only means that there’s a tribe of people who welcome me, and a boy who loves me. If I can accept that, then I’m a Royal.

  Steve O’Halloran never understood. He never realized that he was in Callum’s heart all these years, receiving love and forgiveness and acceptance despite all his sins. He kept searching for fulfillment and never found it—not in the money, the cars, the danger. He slept with Maria Royal, not because he loved Maria, but because he loved what Callum had. A family of big strong boys who were fiercely loyal. Who loved with their whole beings. Who fought for everything they believed was right and good and worthwhile in this world.

  I could let myself be sad about my loss of memories. I could spend years bemoaning that my father never loved me, that my mother is more interested in her money, and that it might take a while before my sisters learn that we’re on the same side. If I did that, I’d turn into a Steve or a Felicity or a Kyle, where the hate takes up so much space in my heart that there’s no room left for joy.

  Instead, I can be a Royal and open my heart up to receive all the precious love that Easton wants to shower on me. So I wrap my arms around the sun and let him warm me from the inside out.

  I’m a Royal because I’m loved by Easton Royal.

  There’s nothing more pure and wondrous in the world than that.

  Chapter 34

  Hartley

  “They’re ready for you, Hart!” my sister Dylan yells from the bottom of the stairs.

  “I’ll be right down,” I holler back.

  “I’ll finish this,” Easton tells me. “You go on.”

  This being the making of the bed that was delivered earlier this morning. Dylan and I live with the Royals now, which is the most surreal thing in the world. But we didn’t have anywhere else to go once Mom and Parker moved to Virginia. The scandal was too much for either of them to endure. To Mom’s credit, she tried, but as more and more of Dad’s cases were revealed to be frauds and convictions were expunged, she couldn’t take it anymore. After the first of the year, she packed up everything. Parker followed shortly after.

  Fortunately, Callum offered to take both me and Dylan in. As Easton said, we were Royals—or at least Callum and everyone else treated us as such. At first, we stayed in the main house, but both Dylan and I are loners, and I think Callum recognized that we would be more comfortable in our own space. So he cleaned out the huge area above the detached garage, which had been used for storage before. Then he hired a contractor to turn the space into an apartment for us.

  East has been cracking the whip over this project, which served the dual purpose of proving that he’s becoming a responsible adult and ensuring we finally have some privacy, because I’ve refused to leave the apartment to sleep in his bedroom while my baby sister is here.

  He’s taken to sleeping on the sofa many nights. I’ll admit, it makes me feel safe. Both of us are taking a year off before we go to college. I want to spend time with Dylan, and East’s been allowed back in the air. He told me he doesn’t care if he ever goes to college. I gave him a book about engineering in hopes he’ll change his mind.

  Within the addition, Dylan and I each have our own bathrooms and bedrooms along with a sweet kitchen and small dining area. There’s even a small deck built off the back, and if you lean around the corner, you can see the ocean.

  “You should go, too. You’re the Man of Honor,” I remind him.

  “It’s Best Man,” he insists. “How many times do I have to remind you people that my role is Best. Man.”

  “Whatever you say, Man of Honor,” I tease and then run off so whatever punishment he has in mind can’t be meted out. I trip down the stairs, cross the cobblestone courtyard, and slip through a side door and into the Royal mansion.

  I grew up in a big house, but the Royal place is on an entirely different level. Just like how their life is on an entirely different level. It's very glamorous, but anyone who knows the Royals knows that all of that richness came at a price.

  But today we’re not going to dwell on the past. Today is a day of celebration, a day to look toward the future.

  I don't have all my memories back. There’s a spot in my life that’s just a big hole. But if I had to start new, this seems like the right place to do it. Easton says that I kissed him first on the top of the Ferris wheel, and that in keeping with tradition I kissed him first again. I think what he was trying to say was that I am the same person today as I was a year ago and that the loss of my memory hasn't changed me.

  I made mistakes in the past. I should’ve never left Dylan, although when I was fourteen and she was ten, I didn’t have a lot of options. She promised me that Dad never hit her, but she didn’t deny that he was emotionally abusive. He mocked her illness and didn't take her seriously. Mom was embarrassed by her. All those anxieties only served to worsen her condition. She didn’t want to take medications because she wanted to pretend she didn’t need them. That way the criticisms of our parents wouldn’t stick.

  She’s so much better now. The Royal brothers have taken her under their wing, spoiling her rotten. But Easton’s been the best of all because he told her that he felt the same way. He validated her feelings and helped her accept that her bipolarity was just like a physical illness. She adores him. I think she’d throw me into the ocean if she had to choose between the two of us.

  Easton battles his own demons. Sometimes when he has a stressful day, I know he wants a drink. His hands will tremble. His eyes will flit all over the room and then he'll have to go do something, whether it's laps in the pool, a run along the beach or, if Dylan isn’t around, I can exhaust him in other ways.

  The weather is just on the cusp of getting hot, but there’s a sweet afternoon breeze coming up from the ocean. It’s a perfect day for a wedding.

  I make my way past the dining room that seats fourteen and across the marble floor under the crystal chandelier that sparkles so brightly it could rival the sun. The long room in the front has been transformed into a beauty parlor. Callum hired an army of staff—caterers, waiters, hairdressers, makeup artists, musicians. I feel like half of Bayview is here prepping for this event.

  “Oh good, you're here. I was just about to come and get you.” Dylan prances over. Her long hair, so similar to mine, has tiny braids around the crown. A crystal and enamel floral headpiece sits just behind those braids, and around her neck is a simple necklace with the same enamel flowers.

  I suspect the jewelry is worth more than some people's cars. Callum Royal throws money around as if there’s a printing press in the basement. And there's no point in putting a stop to his generosity. Easton says it's because it makes him feel less guilty and that if I have any compassion I'll accept all these gifts with a smile.

  It's easier to do when they’re showered on Dylan, because she deserves the world.

  “You look beautiful,” I tell her.

  “I know.” She twirls in a circle, her skirt flying up. “Your turn now.”

  I give my
self over to the team to dress me, perfume me, do my hair and makeup and slip on red-soled shoes onto my feet. Next to me, Ella’s best girlfriend, Val, gets the same treatment while Savannah, Gideon’s girlfriend, plays UNO with Dylan.

  The wedding planner sticks her head in the room. “If everyone is ready, can you take your places?”

  The four of us make our way outside onto the vast lawn that overlooks the endless sea. Dylan and I take our seats in the front row—the row designated for family. My sister slides her hand beneath mine. Our finger lengths almost match. I glance up in surprise. Dylan’s growing up. I hadn’t realized it before when she was spinning like a top before me.

  My attention is diverted when Easton walks up from behind the floral arch with his oldest brother behind him. I nearly swallow my tongue. Eastern Royal in a tux should be illegal. I wonder how many other women in the audience are getting pregnant just from looking at the two Royal brothers.

  “You’re disgusting,” Dylan whispers.

  I dab a finger at the corner of my lips. “Am I drooling?”

  “Not yet.” She sniffs with disdain. “But any second now I expect your eyes to fall into your lap. Can you act with some self-control? Both of you are an embarrassment.”

  Both of us? I look up to see Easton staring at me like I’m his favorite dish and he hasn’t eaten in two weeks. I blush.

  Dylan nudges me. I nudge her back.

  “No, I can't act with any self-control.” The smile that breaks across my face is uncontrollable, but Dylan is saved from any further antics when Bruno Mars’ “Marry You” starts playing.

  The entire congregation rises to watch Ella Royal stroll down the center of the aisle looking like a fairy princess come to life, decked out in a tightly-bound satin bodice with tiny sleeves and a huge ball gown skirt that appears to be made of a thousand layers of tissue-thin silk. Her blonde hair is caught up in a delicate bun at the base of her neck. Around her head she wears a diamond tiara, and a train floats so far behind her that if you stretched it out, it might reach the house several yards away.

  Reed Royal stands opposite Easton in a dark tux and snow-white shirt, but it’s the pure love shining from his Royal-blue eyes that captures everyone’s attention.

  I like to think of myself as not overly sentimental, but I cry during the wedding. It might be a remnant of last winter’s trauma when my father was killed, when Easton was shot, when he endured a long and painful recovery from his kidney transplant.

  But it might be out of happiness. That I’m alive. That Dylan’s with me. That Easton’s as healthy today as he ever was. That his sister and his brother are marrying even though neither of them is even in their twenties. Reed proposed at Christmas and to everyone’s surprise, Ella said yes. She did so with a lot of caveats, though. She was going to college. Then she was getting a job. They would live only on the money the two of them made. Reed agreed with everything. She could have said that she wanted him to wear the dress and I think he would’ve said yes.

  I think she was ready because she’d lost so much—her mother, her father. I’m clinging extra hard to Dylan these days, much to her dismay.

  I'm not the only one who cries, though. Dylan weeps. So do Val and Savannah. I swear I see Gideon wipe his eyes. Callum doesn’t bother to hide his tears. And all those claims about mascara being waterproof are bullshit. Every single female looks like a damned raccoon.

  After the ceremony is over, the army of folks who were hired to make us look beautiful in the first place descend on the wedding party and fix us up so we can take pictures and party during the reception looking perfect once again. Easton gives a hilarious and embarrassing toast recounting how Ella became part of the family.

  “Reed swore up and down that he didn’t like her, but then he’d go sit outside her bedroom waiting for her to come home every night,” Easton reveals, which makes both his siblings blush for different reasons. “He was like her own personal guard dog.”

  Reed shrugs and makes a woofing sound. Ella turns even redder. And the redder she gets, the louder the crowd roars. When Easton is done teasing them, Gideon stands up and then it’s the twins’ moment to turn up the heat.

  When the toasts are done and the champagne kisses are performed, the DJ cranks up the music, filling the massive lawn with heavy dance beats. Dylan hops from foot to foot, anxious to get out on the dance floor. She scans the crowd, looking for a partner. Her gaze stops on the twins, who are seated at a table a couple feet away.

  “This is pretty, right?” Dylan asks them.

  Seb nods. Or Sawyer. I can’t tell them apart anymore. They’re both sarcastic, charming, and dangerous. They’ve broken more hearts in the last five months than I thought was humanly possible. It’s almost like they’re in a contest to see who can bed and leave the most girls in Bayview before they’re seniors. But they’re kind to Dylan, as evidenced by the fact that they aren’t saying something bitingly sarcastic about their barely twenty brother and their teenage foster sister getting married, and so I can’t fault them.

  She gives them a sweet smile. “And the music is lit.”

  They nod again.

  “And everyone’s happy.”

  Another nod.

  Her smile widens even more. “Four years and it’ll be our turn.”

  I blink at the random statement. Four years? What is she babbling about now?

  “Four years?” One of them raises his eyebrow.

  “Our turn?” The other one is slightly panicked.

  “Yeah, I’ll be eighteen then.”

  “So?” says the one with the upturned eyebrow. The other twin, the smart one, is half out of his chair and looking ready to flee.

  “So that’s when we’ll get married,” Dylan announces.

  I nearly swallow my tongue. The boys exchange a look, the kind where they have an entire conversation about how inappropriate my sister is. They both get to their feet.

  “We’ll have it here just like Ella, but with more flowers. I like roses.”

  I slap a hand across Dylan’s mouth. “She’s kidding,” I assure the twins.

  She pushes her wet tongue between my fingers.

  “Ugh, yuck, Dylan.”

  “I’m not kidding,” she declares. “I’m going to marry them when I’m eighteen.”

  “Which one?”

  “Duh,” she says. “You can’t split them up.”

  And then she flounces off, leaving the three of us staring after her with shocked expressions. At least…I’m shocked. I’m not sure I can read the twins’ faces. No. I don’t want to read their faces. Deliberately, I turn away. I didn’t see anything there, I tell myself. Nothing is there.

  Easton appears at my side to stick a champagne flute in my hand. “Do you want the real stuff or is grape juice okay?”

  “This is good.” I take a sip of the sparkling juice and let the bubbles tickle the inside of my mouth. I’ll worry about Dylan in four years, I decide. No need to share what just transpired with Easton. He’ll lock Dylan in the carriage house and not let her out. This is a phase. She’ll grow out of it. I hope.

  “I never thought I’d be giving a toast at a wedding or that I’d drink juice in celebration.” He crinkles his nose.

  “Both are perfect. You make a good Man of Honor.”

  “Best. Man.”

  I grin, take another sip, then turn my attention to the dark water lapping quietly against the sand.

  “What are we doing out here?” Easton asks, resting his chin on the top of my head.

  “I’m making a memory.”

  “Ahh.” He wraps his arms around my shoulders. “I think it’d be a better one if we took your dress off.”

  I shiver, but it’s not from the cold. “My sister did say earlier we should get a room.”

  He places a hot kiss on the side of my neck. “Dylan’s the smartest girl I know.”

  Smiling broadly, Easton takes my hand and leads me across the dance floor, under a floral arch, onto the cobblest
one courtyard and up the stairs of our home to make a new memory.

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  Where the Royals all began…

  Available Now

  Paper Princess

  Broken Prince

  Twisted Palace

  From strip clubs and truck stops to southern coast mansions and prep schools, one girl tries to stay true to herself.

  These Royals will ruin you…

  Ella Harper is a survivor—a pragmatic optimist. She’s spent her whole life moving from town to town with her flighty mother, struggling to make ends meet and believing that someday she’ll climb out of the gutter. After her mother’s death, Ella is truly alone.

  Until Callum Royal appears, plucking Ella out of poverty and tossing her into his posh mansion among his five sons who all hate her. Each Royal boy is more magnetic than the last, but none as captivating as Reed Royal, the boy who is determined to send her back to the slums she came from.

  Reed doesn’t want her. He says she doesn’t belong with the Royals.

  He might be right.

  Wealth. Excess. Deception. It’s like nothing Ella has ever experienced, and if she’s going to survive her time in the Royal palace, she’ll need to learn to issue her own Royal decrees.

  Available in hardcover and ebook from

  Harlequin TEEN and

  #1 New York Times bestselling author Erin Watt!