Page 80 of Royally Bad

“Whoa there.” He chuckled, steadying me. “Someone is in a rush.”

“Well, you have to go-go-go ... or something.” I floundered under his baffled stare, quickly rushing to change the subject. “Hey, your sister was looking for you.”

“Fran?”

“No, Lula.”

His hands curled into loose fists. “Ah.”

“What’s that mean, ‘Ah’?”

“Nothing.” He saw my stare, and though he looked to the side, I just shifted to keep my face in his line of sight. “Damn, you’re determined.”

“I’m just trying to understand you guys. There’s a lot happening that’s going over my head.”

“We’re a complicated family.”

“What family isn’t?”

Palming the nape of his neck, he sighed loudly. “It’s not the same. You’re not just talking about petty squabbles, you’re mixing old history, politics, hurt feelings, and a ton of tiny mistakes that no one as proud as these people will ever own up to.”

“You’re one of them,” I reminded him.

He shot me a cynical smile. “I’m aware. I’m probably prouder than all of them combined.”

“So what do we do? Just act like things are normal?”

“You,”he said, clamping onto my shoulders, “need to hang on tight. I promise that this morning was just a baby crocodile tooth when compared to the massively jagged mouth that is the drama of this family. Let’s go outside, they’re setting dinner up.”

He placed his hand possessively on my hip. Thrilling with the touch, I followed him through the home and out into the rose gardens. Night wasn’t far away, a long table had been set up under a few heated lamps to keep the shadows from ruining the meal.

On top of the white cloth, there were bottles of wine in metal buckets—far too many for eight people.Or maybe just enough, if things go as crazy as Kain suggested.Eyeballing the seats, I tried to weigh my options. What was the most tactical place to sit?

Kain decided for me. Pulling out a chair, he dropped me on the far end, away from the head of the table, where Maverick would sit. Sitting across from me, Kain poured a glass of rich, red wine.

“Aren’t we waiting for the others?” I asked.

His eyebrows went up as, on cue, voices began drifting into the garden. “Mom!” Fran groaned, allowing her mother to stop and fix the deepVof her dress. “It’s fine. Come on.”

“It’s fine for a street whore, not my daughter.”

“Please. You only care because Lula is here.”

“Watch your fucking tone, missy!”

Kain passed me the glass; I took a grateful sip.

From there the others trickled in. Mama Badd sat on a corner by Maverick, Lulabelle sat on the other. Francesca plopped beside her, and I was pleased to see Midas join us. I’d barely seen the man since the surprise ceremony.

Hawthorne pulled out a chair beside Kain, leaving a space beside me for ...

“Uh, hi,” I said, looking up at Costello.

He pulled into place, his wolfish eyes darting to me for too long of a second. “Hey there.” I was relieved when he grabbed a glass of wine, freeing me from his intense energy. Of all the people in this family, I still struggled with him the most.

I’d watched him fight with Kain at his father’s orders. I’d watched him smile at a distance as Frannie got her wedding, all while knowing he’d originally been denied being a part of it. And that facial scar of his ...

He was a mystery to me. I didn’t like unknowns.

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