Page 29 of Royally Bad

“But,” I added quickly, “if things feel fishy, Iamgoing to talk to the police.”

Peeling his jacket off, he draped it on me, not giving me a chance to turn his kind offer down. Gripping the collar of it, he tugged it into place, staring straight into my face. “Let me do it my way,thenyou can call the cops.”

Does he always need to get his way?If I spent any more time with this guy, I’d have to teach him that every interaction didn’t have to be about someone “winning.” Snuggling into the warm jacket that smelled exactly like him, I breathed deep—then choked.

Wait.

Did I really just consider spending MORE time with Kain?

The guy who treated police stations like hotel lobbies? The son of a family that Detective Stapler had warned me about?

I really,reallyneeded a break away from all of this insanity.

But as Kain slammed his heel into his bike, propelling us off into the night toward the estate I’d vowed to never return to ...

I had an idea things were just getting started.

- CHAPTER EIGHT -

KAIN

Someone tried to hurt her.

It felt like someone had shoved a pine branch down my gullet. Every taste bud was bitter, the flavor of my fear and disgust cloying. Howdaresomeone pull Sammy into this? Whoever had more balls than sense was going to get a set of knuckles in his teeth.

I’d personally make sure of that.

The entire time we flew down the highway, my mind was ensnared by tendrils that kept pulling me back into a pit of hate. No one messed with my family; that was a given. This new attack had crossed into a whole other realm of bullshit.

Someone tried to hurt her.

That phrase tattooed onto the wet mass of my brain. It remained there the whole drive, I knew it would remain till the morning, and there was a good chance it would remain long after I was dead and buried.

Crushing the handlebars, I felt the high heels clattering against my wrist. Sammy hadn’t commented on the shoes, but why would she? She’d thrown them at me to give back to my sister. To her, the shoes being with me made sense.

She couldn’t know how illogical it was. She just couldn’t.

I’d been thinking of her as my Cinderella. I was already a prince—in a sense—so why couldn’t it work? We’d dance, I’d put the shoes on her perfect feet, and we’d kiss and laugh, and all would be fucking sparkles and hearts.

Someone. Tried. To hurt her.

Did fairy tales ever end with the prince murdering someone?

The iron gates split as I approached, welcoming me back home. The estate was a huge, sprawling mass of gardens and fields and forest. I’d lived here since I’d been born, I’d never felt unsafe.

The police raid hadn’t even registered as a blip to me. I didn’t like being cuffed, and Frannie was still fuming about the whole mess. But was it dangerous? Nah.

What had happened to Sammy was.

Bright lights illuminated the large front doors. A shadow moved behind the decorated glass.Probably Mom.She’d called me a few times today, telling me to come home and rest. I couldn’t tell her that I was busy spying on Sammy.

Hawthorne thought she was an enemy.

Tonight, I’d learned she was a target.

If I hadn’t been watching her ...Fuck. I hoped she never asked what I’d been doing so close to her house. Surveying her place from the street wasn’t going to sound normal, even I knew that.

Parking the bike, I helped her off of it. Her toes touched the flat rocks of the driveway, then she looked up at me through her messy bangs. “I think I’ve gone without shoes for a full day, almost.”

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