Page 85 of Royally Bad

He wasn’t lying before; he knew what I wanted, he’d thought it over ... and he’d come here to offer it. But I needed to make sure he wouldn’t regret this.

I couldn’t be the one who ruined his connection to his family.

“Fran will want to kill us if we vanish. Your father might try to hunt us down. If we do this—Kain, you have to tell me you’re okay with the aftermath. I need to know. Be certain, be really,reallycertain.”

Like the slow crawl of winter turning into spring, Kain looped his fingers around my forearms and erased every chill. His lips could have met mine, we could have kissed again and again, but he chose to spill his heart instead. “If you asked me to, I’d slash and burn every connection to this place ... just to plant myself somewhere else with you. Forever.”

He was offering me everything on a silver platter.

All I had to do was ask.

Standing on tiptoe, I teased my mouth over his. My teeth caught his tongue, my nose grinding along his cheek. I kissed him until I saw spots of light behind my eyelids, and then, I kissed him some more.

My voice was broken and hushed when I pulled back. “Take us away from here, Your Majesty.”

Kain cupped my cheeks, his breath tickling my eyelashes.

“Your wish is my command.”

- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE -

KAIN

A month had passed since I’d first kissed Sammy.

Yes, that was how I was measuring my time.

My father had talked again and again about the danger she was in—that we could all be in, though he clearly suspected this was all about her somehow.

And still ... no one could come up with a reason why.

Each time I looked at Sammy, I tried to make sense of her. I’d see her clever green eyes, and I’d ask myself, “Who is she?” I’d watch her smoothing her wild hair, how she’d laugh so easily, and I’d tell myself it was all a mistake.

Brick Monroe was just a dangerous idiot.

That was all it was.

So why did I suddenly feel so uneasy?

I didn’t know. But I found comfort in slipping my gun under my jacket. I had no clue what we would face after tonight, I wanted to be prepared.

Sammy met me in the driveway, a backpack strapped over her white lace dress. I figured it was whatever small items she’d gathered since her time here. Her steps were light as she bounced toward me. Her ever-present smile told me she didn’t sense what I did.

Because nothing is wrong.

“I’ll have to mail this dress back to Fran,” she said, climbing up behind me. “I hope she isn’t too mad. It’s nice, though—nice and light with this warm weather. I was starting to think summer would come and go without any of those sweaty, nostalgic evenings.”

Under her casual chatter, I let my guard down. “Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure I’ve given you a few sweaty summer nights to get nostalgic over.”

Hiding behind the helmet, she just flashed me a thumbs-up.

Riding down the highway and out of Newport, we entered a stretch of road that was free of light pollution. Along my right side floated a field of black grass, the sky above glowing as if it were nuclear.

Sammy tapped me—then she did it again, insistent.

Turning, I saw what she wanted me to see. Breathing in, I gazed at the twinkling lights that bobbed over the field. It had been a long time since I’d noticed fireflies. In the serenity of a summer night that was often reserved for carefree kids, we rode along with our bodies pressing close, the engine vibrating our bones while our joy shook our hearts.

In my ear, she whispered a sentence. It shouldn’t have been loud enough to climb above the white noise of the bike, but sometimes words have a way of ignoring the rules.

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