Page 72 of Royal Havoc

The longer he drives, the more I notice the scenery around us start to change. We’re surrounded by woods, a few scattered houses with a field or two randomly thrown in. Our past creeps to the surface as my blood pressure pumps faster in my veins. The tingly feeling I fear most awakens, lightly dancing over my skin, causing a cold layer of sweat to cover me.

“Calm down,” he tells me softly, resting his hand over mine to stop me from clawing at my thigh.

My neck swings to the left, and I blink him into focus, noticing that he’s turned down the music.

“Where are we going?” I rasp nervously, peering at the side of his face.

“A bar.” He smiles. “No time for jogging through the woods tonight,” he jokes, gently squeezing my hand.

No sooner than he finishes, we pull into a gravel lot in the middle of one of the random fields surrounded by woods. A smallish run-down white structure standing at the end of the lot.

“Is that a school house? I thought you said we were going to a bar?” I hiss, tensing beside him.

Once he’s parked, he relaxes in his seat, his head rolling on the headrest to peer at me. “It’s used to be. This is where the Unity started.”

My eyes flair while I sit staring at the run-down structure. “It started in a run-down-school?” I grumble, annoyingly confused by what he’s saying.

“Hendrix mentioned his suspicion that Opal did a shit job, but damn, didn’t she tell you anything?”

Turning in my seat to see him better. “Old guys smeared some blood on a dirty piece of paper, called it Unity, and I’ve got to marry you.” I shrug.

He rolls his head back and forth on the headrest. “No.”

“No? So I don’t have to marry you?” I counter.

He narrows his steely stare on me. “That’s the worst explanation I’ve ever heard,” he rasps.

Resting my back against the passenger door, crossing my arms. “Tell me the full version,” I challenge, raising a manicured brow.

And make sure you include the part about if you can change your mind!

He sighs heavily before he starts, “Four guys started the Unity. It was to keep the wealthiest families bloodlines going, so the town —”

“Let’s call bullshit. They did it to keep their money safe, control the shitty small town, and decide people’s fate. I’ve heard my Gramps liked to protect his investments. So, I assume my great-whatever was the same way,” I rant obnoxiously, rolling my eyes.

He chuckles, shifting slightly to see me better. “Close. Except, your great-grandfather was the least wealthy.”

“But? I was told that’s why I was given the Sterling name.”

“Opal lied,” he grumbles seriously. “Four founders. Whithe. Carver. Lusk. Sterling.” Listing off each one on his fingers. “Let’s go get a drink,” he says, squeezing my hand before opening his door.

I’m surprised to find him waiting patiently for me by the front of the car. The place seriously reminds me of a forgotten mess with its cracked and peeling paint.

“Does that say school?” I ask, squinting up at the black letters above the doors.

He holds one of them open for me. “I told you, this is all that’s left of the old place.” He winks mischievously.

“A bar called school is just wrong,” I mumble.

I step into an entrance blocked by a set of modern tinted glass doors. He pulls one open and ushers me inside. The place has been completely remodeled. It’s like a building hidden inside a shitty exterior.

The outside is like a shell.

Red high-back booths line the walls to our right. Wooden tables litter the open space, and a long wooden bar lines the left. I notice there’s a dance floor in the very back.

The bartender nods after Vex orders as I stand, taking in all the old pictures and signs covering the walls. He hands me adrink before leading me to a booth far enough from the music we’ll be able to talk without shouting.

He takes a drink of his beer, studying my questioning face. “Say it,” he finally urges.

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