Royally Bad (Bad Boy Royals #1)

by Nora Flite

  I couldn’t break our stare, I was locked on and trying so hard to understand what she’d said—what I would say in return.

  Suddenly, she sat up straighter. The doubt marring her lovely face changed into something that dared me to tell her she was wrong for admitting her inner secret. Again and again, this woman and I, we faced off to see who would win.

  But looking deep into the starbursts of her eyes . . .

  I realized I’d lost long ago.

  Cupping her cheeks with a fury, I brought her to me. She was sweet and salty and more than my taste buds could make sense of. Love didn’t change who she was, it only made her more grounded. I was touching a woman who couldn’t be knocked down.

  Sammy’s love for me was solid as steel.

  Together we suffocated; oxygen was for the weak. But love doesn’t make you immortal, funny as that is.

  She ripped away, gasping, with tears on the edges of her eyes. Was it from needing to breathe or from her emotions?

  “Well?” she asked, her palms finding my jaw. She forced me to look at her. “Talk to me, because I’m about to feel really stupid if you don’t just say something.”

  Say something? What the hell could I say?

  The truth. Tell her.

  But I didn’t know what the truth was—No. It’s not that. I did know, I’d known for some time. If I tried to tell her, what would happen?

  And then my lips parted, and everything ran out of me before I could stop it. My voice was a syrup so thick that I couldn’t clean it up, a stain that would last an eternity.

  “I love you, too.” I didn’t whisper it. It wasn’t a shout. Yet my admission rang between us, a song that would become so addicting we’d never forget the lyrics. “Fuck. I love you.” I said it again. It felt fucking amazing to feel it on my tongue.

  I didn’t want to stop, but her two fingers on my lips shut me up. “Okay,” she said softly, a smile breaking over her glossy lips. “I heard you the first time.”

  “I don’t give a damn if you heard me once.” Sinking my lips onto hers, I pulled her to me. My mouth demanded more of her—more than anyone should be able to give. Sammy rose to the challenge, her eyes shutting behind her rows of thick lashes. “I won’t ever stop saying it. I’m going to repeat it a million times, until my tongue dries out and my heart stops beating, and even then . . . I might never quit.”

  The wetness in her eyes finally tipped over the edges. Sammy had always hidden away when she cried. This time, she watched me dead-on and didn’t try to stop it.

  I kissed the corner of her cheekbone, wiping away the wetness there. Her nose brushed my ear, her tone the sensation of silk over bare skin. “I also love you for not driving us into a ditch and killing us in an empty field.”

  Hunching over with a laugh, I held her tighter. We lingered for a long while. The fireflies returned, the two of us trying to count them as we cuddled on my motorcycle.

  Eventually, she looked at her phone. “We should go, I don’t want Mom to fall asleep. Explaining to her that we need to pack up and leave is going to be messy as is.”

  The reminder that I’d offered to sweep them both away and off into the sunset should have been sobering. I was too busy relishing the blockade being gone from my heart. I’d never told a woman I loved her. I’d never felt like I’d loved someone before. Sammy had opened me up without my say, she’d gotten inside of me before I’d realized.

  But maybe I couldn’t have stopped her even if I’d seen this coming.

  Maybe I wouldn’t have tried to.

  Pulling into the parking lot, I turned the engine off. Sliding down, I helped Sammy to the ground. My hands glided down her arms, one of them finally linking with hers. She tightened up in surprise, not trying to get away from my touch.

  Hand in hand, we climbed the stairs.

  I got to watch Sammy’s joy as it became her state of mind.

  And when she opened the unit, finding only darkness and not her mother . . .

  I got to watch it melt away.

  - CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR -

  KAIN

  “It happened. It finally happened.” She was pacing, holding her head and talking to herself rapidly.

  “Sammy, calm down.”

  Spinning on me, she let the last bit of her composure fall to pieces. “He took her! Oh fuck, oh no—what if he hurt her? What if he—”

  Grabbing her roughly, I forced her around to face me. “Stop it!” I growled. The light came back into her eyes—she was listening. “Call the hospital first. Maybe she was taken there.”

  Her shaking chin made it obvious that possibility wasn’t much better. I looked on as she dialed, her voice frantic as she spoke to someone on the line. Sammy’s fist went white on the phone—when her arm dropped, my heart went with it.

  Hanging up, she challenged me with her wild glare. “She’s not there. I’m telling you, this Brick guy took her. It has to be that, she’d never leave without telling me.”

  With purpose, I started toward the door. “I believe you. I know where Brick is, we can leave right now.”

  “If he’s done anything to her . . . I’ll kill him.” She said it so strongly that I didn’t doubt it. Sammy wasn’t violent, but when faced with losing the last person in her family, she was willing to take off her gloves.

  I’d have done the same.

  “Come on.” Forcing the heavy helmet back into her hands, I lifted her onto the bike. Her focus was solid, she followed my lead. Sammy became a faceless eight ball behind the helmet.

  Is this the right thing to do? I asked myself. Our plan had gone from escape to rescue. That is, if Jean could even be rescued—No. Don’t. I tightened my jaw, my molars grinding. We can save her. Everything will be fine.

  Robbed of her expressive eyes, I didn’t linger in asking her thoughts. Sammy was as good as a one-direction robot. She cared about nothing but finding her mother. And I felt . . . no, I knew . . . that if it was a bleak outcome, she was ready to destroy the people who were responsible.

  My front lights guided us down the road, rubber squealing. Sammy melded against my back, leaning into me for strength. Twisting the handlebars, I pushed my motorcycle to the limit. We cut corners, flying back the way we’d come.

  The highway exit I wanted was just beyond the firefly field. It was late, and the road was usually barren anyway, so I didn’t bother slowing down. As we cut over the bend of asphalt, revealing the straight shot in the distance, I spotted headlights.

  My eyes cast slightly down; it allowed me to still see and not be blinded. Just beyond here, we’ll get to the highway, then the Hill, and then I’ll kick Barnie’s door down and strangle Brick Monroe for real.

  No one would stop me from getting to him. Not this time.

  I wasn’t afraid of guns.

  I was afraid of seeing Sammy’s heart torn to shreds.

  Up ahead, the car drew near. In a sudden flash of high beams, it swung into our lane. It was an unexpected obstacle—and I was going too damn fast.

  It rammed toward us on that stretch of quiet road.

  The same place where so recently Sammy had told me she loved me.

  Wrenching my bike to one side, I threw us into the grass. We skidded—we bounced. Every bone in my body took a turn punching into my skull, and when it was all said and done, I was lying face-up so I could see the stars.

  Groaning, I rolled onto my elbow. Move, go! This was all wrong, the car had come at us on purpose. I knew what an ambush was, I wasn’t a fucking idiot.

  But I was hurt.

  Grimacing, I clutched my ribs and stumbled toward Sammy. We’d both had on our helmets, the field cushioning us miraculously. Kneeling beside her, I helped her sit up; she yanked the helmet free, spitting into the dirt.

  Breathing rapidly so her chest rose and fell, she looked up at me. Then she stared over my shoulder. “Don’t!” she shouted.

  Spinning, I looked into the barrel of a handgun. Brick spoke with a sneer I could taste. “Hey, assh
ole, remember me?”

  My eyes darted up to his twisting features. I have to get to my gun. It was in my holster under my jacket, but he was too close for me to chance it.

  The muzzle jammed into my temple; I grunted. “I asked a question,” Brick said.

  “Yeah, I fucking remember you. How could I forget a dick bag like you?”

  His sudden kick to my ribs made me think twice about the next insult I’d readied. “You,” he said, motioning at Sammy. “Get up.”

  She watched me nervously. On unsteady legs, she rose up, her backpack hanging limply in one hand. I realized she was slightly taller than Brick; that made me grin, because he noticed, too. Jerking the gun, he said, “Get back by the car.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Just move, honey.”

  Licking her lower lip, she eyeballed the distance between her and the car. It was only a few feet away, we hadn’t rolled far. “You’re the guy who attacked me in my house.”

  “Good memory.”

  “What did you do with my mother?”

  “Shut up and get over there,” he growled, motioning with the gun.

  Stiff-legged, she did as he said, passing him with a wary look at me. I tried to console her with my eyes. I wanted her to know everything was fine—because it had to be.

  Somehow, it had to be.

  Brick slid his stare to where I was sitting in the grass. “Thanks for making this easy. You’d think someone would have warned you to stay off the roads, but taking the same route over and over every week . . .” Snorting, he wagged the pistol lazily. “I figured you were smart when you pinned me for breaking into Sammy’s place, but damn. Guess not.”

  Nothing stirred the air but crickets. Would anyone hear us out here? I couldn’t see any headlights on the mile-long stretch. I need to stall. “So you attacked her, and now what, you’ll kill her? What’s the point? She’s a nobody. There are better ways to hurt my family.”

  Though no better way to hurt me.

  He steered his weapon, keeping it trained on me lazily. “Your asshole family thinks everything is about them. It isn’t. And if you got your head out of your ass, you might have seen this coming.”

  Perking up, I looked to Sammy. She was shaking her head in blank confusion. “I don’t even know who you are,” she said.

  He wrinkled his brow. “Maybe not my face, but you know who I am. I’m a Deep Shot, baby. Just like your daddy was.”

  My brain short-circuited, unable to comprehend what he’d said. Sammy threw up her hands—so fast that Brick pointed the gun at her nervously. “You’ve got me confused with someone else. My dad was Bastian Sage—a landscaper! He wasn’t a member of some gang!”

  “A landscaper?” he laughed. “Nice try. You know he was our fucking leader. Until he stepped down, anyway.” Scratching at his cheek with the gun’s muzzle, he chuckled. “Stop acting stupid. When I saw you rubbing elbows with the Badds, I got it. It clicked. You’d figured out I’d ordered that hit on him and it wasn’t some suicide.”

  Her eyes were wild. “Holy shit, you’re nuts!”

  “I’m not nuts, I’m a damn go-getter!” His laugh was deep, the edges cracking like cheap pottery. He was unhinged; I wished I’d realized sooner. I’d thought he was violent and stupid, but was he really saying what I thought he was?

  I whispered, “You had him murdered?” Didn’t Sammy say his car was found in Newport Bay?

  “Yeah, I’ll take the credit for that.” Fuck, did he look proud. “Had a guy do a drive-by shooting, but the dude went all-out and shoved the car off the road and right into the ocean. Points for the extra effort, there.”

  Sammy had gone white, her whole body shaking as she stood there. I saw her knuckles crunching, skin straining as she gripped the backpack.

  Brick flipped the gun like he was a movie star. “I just needed time. My dad was going to let me lead the Deep Shots, and I had ideas, you know? Wanted to get you fucking Badds out of the picture . . . get you fucked by the police a few more times until your lawyer couldn’t rescue you. Didn’t expect to discover you working with this bitch. Jackpot! Revenge plot spotted!”

  He was busy sneering at me. This man wasn’t afraid of spraying his plans at us, because soon, he’d be spraying our brains all over as well.

  I just needed a chance to get at my gun.

  And that beautiful girl . . . she gave it to me.

  Bursting into motion, Sammy chucked something at his head from inside of her backpack. Glittery and surreal, the high heel clicked off his scalp, sending him falling as he groped at the back of his skull.

  Any other time, and I would have stared blankly at the fact that not only did Sammy have the shoes I’d thought I’d hidden away in my room . . .

  She’s just used one as a fucking weapon.

  I didn’t have the luxury of being shocked. My gun was hot in my palm; I yanked it free, aiming it at Brick. I was fast, but he wasn’t scared of hitting someone he cared about like I was.

  The muzzle flashed, his first shot worming through my shoulder. He was spinning in the dirt, firing blindly. Bullets pierced the sky, vanishing off into the stars.

  With a scream, Sammy dropped to the pavement.

  “No!” I roared, pointing my gun blindly. Each and every shot went astray. Brick grunted, half turning as I landed one slug in his upper thigh.

  I had one bullet left, but I didn’t waste it. All I could see was Sammy. I stretched over the ground, struggling toward her. I could hardly move, I was leaking life all over the place. How many bullets had he buried in me? My legs weren’t working right, everything was on fire.

  Sammy doubled over, leaning on the car’s front tire. Hair stuck to her forehead; she lifted her hand, the crimson staining through her snowy-white dress.

  Brick coughed, wiping at his scalp. He didn’t even check the hole in his damn leg. Studying the redness on his fingers, he looked from me . . . to Sammy. Purposefully, he cocked his handgun. “Enough of this.”

  No no no no!

  His other shots had been on reflex; he’d hit me and her entirely by accident. I didn’t know how bad her wound was; she was cradling her stomach and looking at the ground. I couldn’t even see her face.

  If Brick shot her intentionally this time, I knew she’d be done.

  My soul was capsizing. I wouldn’t let Sammy die—I couldn’t. Let me die instead; I’d rise from my damn grave, cursing the heavens and guaranteeing that anyone who touched a freckle on her cheek would get dragged back into the cold ground with me.

  Fear is the perfect divider for separating you from your fucked-up thoughts.

  The last time I’d thought about that, I’d been plowing down the highway with Sammy hanging on to my back. I wouldn’t have guessed that this was where we’d end up someday.

  I want to ride with her again.

  I want to hold her.

  Kiss her.

  I wanted to have our damn fairy tale.

  As I lifted my pistol, aiming it with the hope that after every fucking thing I’d been through—that she had been through—some karma would give me some luck, I realized . . .

  This was it.

  One shot was all I’d been offered.

  So I took it.

  My last bullet slammed into Brick’s knee. He went down in a fury of arms, swearing and shouting through the burst of pain. I knew it hurt, I had lead burning away at me, too.

  “You motherfucking piece of shit! I should’ve killed you first!” he bellowed.

  Digging into my pocket with blood soaking my everything, I opened my phone. Smudges stained my screen, my message sending on its way to my father. It was a bare little text, it only read: HLP.

  I didn’t have time to hit the E, but he’d understand.

  Pushing himself to his feet, Brick braced one arm on his uninjured leg. The other was dragging uselessly as he limped toward me.

  His gun shook as he raised it—red veins popped in the boiled eggs that were a poor excuse for
his eyes. “You’re dead,” he breathed heavily. “Fucking dead.”

  I knew I was smiling, I couldn’t control it. “Shoot me, go on! I won’t die. I’m too damn tough to die.” If I kept talking, I could give my family time to get here. I just had to drag this out . . . I just . . .

  The black hole in the muzzle of his gun became the only thing I could focus on. Some feet away, Sammy groaned weakly.

  Brick pressed the warm, metal tip between my eyes. “Guess we’ll find out,” he said, squeezing the trigger.

  Blood splattered.

  It wasn’t mine.

  Brick rocked forward, coughing as liquid filled his throat. He toppled to the ground, leaving me more lost than ever as he rolled around in pain. Where had that shot come from?

  On the empty road, I saw a new car. Its lights were off, none of us had heard it approaching. My savior was a big man with an even bigger gun. For a second I thought it was my father, but he was thinner—paler. I didn’t know him, but I did know that he’d saved my life.

  Her life.

  “Sammy!” I shouted, dragging myself over the pavement toward her. She was propped against the car’s tire, her stare fixed straight ahead on the stranger. In the distance, the first howls of police sirens began over the hill.

  Someone had finally heard the gunshots and reported them.

  She swayed, sliding sideways and to the street. Closing the distance, ignoring my pain, I scooped her into my lap. “Sammy! Sammy, look at me!”

  She wouldn’t, she was too busy fixating on the stranger. “It’s him,” she said in disbelief.

  Was this new man dangerous? Was he going to aim at us next?

  “Who is he?” I asked urgently.

  Finally, she looked up at me. “That’s my father.”

  - CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE -

  SAMMY

  “Sammy?”

  This is nice. This is warm.

  “Sammy! Sammy, please . . .”

  Leave me alone. I can finally sleep. I haven’t felt so relaxed in forever.

  “I love you . . . so please, just . . . wake up.”

  Kain?

  My eyes snapped open. Wincing at the bright lights overhead, I tried to shield my eyes; something tugged my arm, keeping it locked in place. In a panic I started to thrash, too confused to make sense of what was going on.