Broken Kingdom : A bad boy college romance (Royal Hearts Academy Book 4)
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Broken Kingdom
Royal Hearts Academy - Book Four
A. Jade
Contents
Broken Kingdom
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
Royal Hearts Academy
About the Author
Broken Kingdom
Royal Hearts Academy - Book Four
“For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”
― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
First published in USA, October 2020
Copyright © Ashley Jade
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be circulated in writing of any publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, or events is purely coincidence.
Broken Kingdom
Photographer: Scott Hoover
Cover Design: Lori Jackson at Lori Jackson Design
Editor: Ellie McLove
Rosa Sharon
Kristy Stalter
Prologue
Oakley
Bianca.
She’s my first thought when I open my eyes.
However, she’s not the first person I see.
That would be my dad.
And two police officers.
Shit.
A quick glance around tells me I’m in the hospital.
Fuck.
“What—” I try to move, but can’t.
When I look down, I realize why.
I’m handcuffed to a goddamn bed.
And not in a way I’d typically enjoy.
“What happened?”
My dad—who looks more scared than I’ve ever seen him before—takes a step forward. “You were in a car accident.”
Sounds about right, because the last thing I remember was driving.
And arguing.
Her tears.
But mostly? The last words she said to me before the world became one big blur.
“You had a seizure at the wheel,” Dad continues, but I can’t focus on that.
I have more important things to worry about.
“Where’s Bianca?” I sit up in bed. “Is she okay?”
Given cars are number one on her list of fears, she must be freaking the fuck out.
I need to see her.
“She’s…uh—” His expression falls. “She’s still in surgery.”
My brain must temporarily fritz out because I can’t make sense of this.
“Surgery?” The thing in my chest—the fucked-up organ she brought back to life—beats wildly. “She’s gonna be okay, right?”
She has to be.
The girl is the definition of a fighter if there ever was one.
Frowning, he pulls a seat beside my bed and sits. “We—well, the Covingtons—won’t know anything for a while.”
I need to see Jace and Cole.
Fucking hell.
They’re gonna be so pissed when they find out that not only did I have a seizure behind the wheel with their sister in the car—but that I’ve been hooking up with her all summer.
Who am I kidding? Bianca’s more than a hookup.
Either way, they’re not going to take the news well.
However, their anger is the least of my concerns right now.
There’s gotta be a doctor—someone—I can speak to about her.
“Is there a doctor or nurse around? I need to know how the surgery—”
“Oakley,” Dad snaps, cutting me off. “We can’t worry about them right now.”
I don’t like the distance he’s putting between us.
My dad’s been Mr. Covington’s personal lawyer—and friend—for years.
So much so his running joke at home was that the Covington’s bullshit was inevitably his bullshit, too.
Given Jace and Cole are my best friends—hell, my brothers—I feel the same way.
Needless to say, the line in the sand he’s suddenly drawing between our families doesn’t sit well with me.
“What do you mean we can’t worry—”
“Oak.” My dad gestures to the police officers. “Our family has its own issues to deal with right now.”
I want to laugh at his use of family.
We haven’t been one of those since the day I got mad at my dad, boned my stepmother, and caught feelings for her…
Only to find out she was using me to get pregnant.
Which she did.
Until she wasn’t anymore.
Well, with my baby.
Shortly after the miscarriage, she got knocked-up again…with my half-sister.
The way it should have been from the start.
But that’s the thing about me. I’m always fucking shit up.
Case in point? What’s happening now.
I flick my gaze to the officers. “Why are they—”
Motherfucking cocksucking shitballs.
If there was a car accident…there were officers on the scene.
Which means they found and seized a little over ten-thousand dollars’ worth of cocaine and heroin in my trunk.
Now I know why my dad is scared.
Hell, I’m scared, too.
I glance at my dad, too afraid to speak because I don’t want to further incriminate myself.
Although that’s laughable, because I’m fucked.
So fucked.
As if sensing my internal struggle, he turns to the two officers. “Can I have a minute alone with my son?”
They look at him like he’s crazy.
“That’s against the rules,” one of the officers states matter-of-factly.
“Fuck the rules,” my dad barks, but I can hear the fear in his voice seeping out under his bravado.
My chest twists.
My dad has every right not to be here given what I’ve done to him.
And yet…here he is. Standing by his piece-of-shit offspring.
Being the parent my mother never was.
Gathering his composure, he stands. “Gentlemen, there are no windows in this room.” He motions to the cuffs around my wrists. “And he’s secured to the bed.” He looks them in the eyes. “He’s not going anywhere. You have my word.”
I’m expecting them to decline, but my dad must garner a lot more respect and pull than I thought because they concede.
“Five minutes,” one of them grunts as they head for the door.
Gripping the short, sparse strands of hair from his balding head, my father blanches. “You’re in deep fucking shit, Oak.”
Oh, I’m aware.
“I know.” I wince. This is bad. Real fucking bad. “How much shit?”
He starts ticking things off with his fingers. “Well, for starters, they seized over a pound of cocaine and heroin from the trunk of your car.” He glares at me. “Your blood alcohol level came back a 0.08%. Which is over the—”
“Legal limit,” I finish for him.
Because when I fuck up…I really give it my all.
Quite frankly, I’m surprised it wasn’t higher.
“They also found trace amounts of cannabis and cocaine in your system.”
No surprise there.
“I was trying to sober u—”
“Well, that didn’t fucking work,” he screams, his eyes flashing with rage.
“I’m sorry.”
However, my apology has nothing to do with me doing drugs.
It’s because I know he finally knows the truth.
There’s so much pain etched in his face—so much disappointment lingering—it hurts to look at him.
He averts his gaze, as if he can’t bear to look at me, either. “At least now I know why you moved out so abruptly.”
Yeah, because I couldn’t face myself in the mirror anymore.
Which means I definitely couldn’t face him.
“Dad—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he barks, gripping the back of the chair so tight his knuckles turn white. “I need to tell you something.” His expression goes from angry to forlorn. “Something very serious.”
Given the laundry list of shitty things I’ve done tonight—and the fact that the girl I love is still in surgery—I’m pretty sure whatever he has to tell me can’t be any more serious than that.
“What?”
Reaching over, he squeezes my shoulder. “During your seizure, you swerved into the opposite lane and crashed into another car.”
Evidently, I was wrong before…it can get more serious.
Way more serious.
I don’t have a great relationship with God, but I say a silent prayer anyway.
Two of them.
One for Bianca to pull through her surgery with flying colors…and the second for whoever was in the other vehicle.
Putting more pressure on my shoulder, he looks down at the floor. “Hayley was driving the other car.”
My brain fills with confusion. “Hayley…my ex-girlfriend Hayley?”
He gives me a solemn nod. “Yes.”
I rub the knot forming in my chest. My horrible list of fuck-ups are piling up by the minute.
“I hope she wasn’t hurt.”
“Oak,” he says softly, almost like it pains him to say the next words. “She didn’t make it.”
My stomach lurches and the room tilts.
Sure, I’m a fuck-up—the biggest one I’ve ever known—but I’m not a…
Holy fucking shit.
This can’t be happening.
“She died?” My shout rings in my ears, crashing over the room like a tsunami. “I killed her?”
I peer up at my dad, begging, pleading with him to take the words back.
But he can’t.
Because I killed her.
My vision blurs and I take a breath, trying to steady myself.
It doesn’t work.
Because there’s no getting away from this.
No taking back what I did.
Guilt—the kind there’s not enough remorse for—fills my chest.
“I’m sorry,” my dad whispers, wrapping his arms around me.
I don’t understand why he’s apologizing to me.
This is all my fault.
“I kil—”
The lights above me flicker and an all-too-familiar fuzzy, buzzing sound fills my ears.
“He has epilepsy,” my father barks as footsteps stampede into the room. “Take these goddamn handcuffs off him.”
I blink up at the ceiling, a wave of exhaustion rushing through me.
There are so many things I want to say—and even more I want to apologize for—but I can’t.
Because no amount of repentance will ever be enough.
I just want to close my eyes…sleep for eternity.
Maybe when I wake up this will all just be a dream.
Or a beautiful nightmare.
Fuck. I want to see her, so fucking bad.
Tell her the words I should have spoken before it was too late, and I fucked everything up.
Tell her it was real between us.
“It’s against protocol,” some man states.
“Fuck your protocol.” My dad rubs my head, just like he used to after I’d seize back when I was a kid. “You’re okay. You just had another seizure.”
It’s funny because, despite his small stature, my father is a shark inside the courtroom—a monster who will literally ruin your life with a simple closing statement—but deep down he’s got a heart as big as the ocean.
I used to think I inherited mine from him.
But now I know that’s not true…because people with hearts don’t kill.
“Is he okay?” a familiar voice calls out.
Dylan.
Fighting my fatigue, I peel my gaze away from the ceiling.
My cousin’s blue eyes are bloodshot and puffy, like she’s been crying.
Probably because of the mess I’ve made.
I open my mouth, but my dad beats me to it.
“I’m sorry, Dylan. But you can’t see him right now.”
Dylan shuffles her feet. “I just want to make sure he’s okay.”
“I understand that,” my dad says. “But visitation is for immediate family only.”
Dylan’s visibly offended and I don’t blame her one bit. My dad is being a royal douche to her.
“What the fuck, Dad?” I croak. “Dylan is family.” I look at the nurse who’s injecting a needle into my IV, hoping she has a little sway since I’m technically the patient. “I want my cousin to stay.” Turning my head, I focus back on her. “How’s Bianca?”
I don’t miss the flicker of uneasiness in her eyes. “She just got out of surgery—”
“Escort her out,” my dad interjects. “Now.”
“No,” I roar, but no one is listening to me.
“Dylan,” I shout as the officers begin herding her out the door. When our eyes connect, I say, “Tell her what we had was real.” I swallow hard. “Tell her I lo—”
Dylan’s out of sight before I can finish my sentence.
I turn my fury on my dad. “Why the fuck won’t you let her stay?”
He frowns. “Because her loyalty lies with Jace and the Covingtons a
nd I can’t take the chance of her spying on us to get more information for a potential lawsuit.” An expansive sigh leaves him. “I’m already preparing for Hayley’s family to go after us, and if Bianca doesn’t make it—”
Pain sparks in my chest, shooting through me like fireworks.
“What do you mean if Bianca doesn’t—”
And just like that, the lights above me flicker, that staticky, buzzing sound echoing throughout my ears again.
“Can’t you give him stronger medication?” my dad grunts at the nurse. “This is his fourth one in seven hours.”
It’s not the nurse’s fault I’m clustering.
Emotional stress is one of my triggers for seizures, and right now there isn’t enough medication in the world to stop my chest from caving in.
“We are,” the nurse responds, fiddling with my IV. “How are you doing, Oakley?” She gives me a sympathetic smile. One I don’t deserve. “You hanging in there?”
Barely.
“Thank you.”
It takes a good heart to show kindness to a piece of shit killer.
I’m so out of it, my voice is barely audible to my own ears, but I think she hears me because she gives me another small smile before heading for the exit.