Page 39 of Royally Ruined

Lula’s breath fogged the air, lingering long after her heavy promise.She’s speaking from experience,I thought. What secret did these two share? I vowed I’d find out—but not now. There wasn’t time.

Costello looked uncomfortable. Turning back to me, he eased his palm off my lips. “Sorry,” he said. “I just didn’t want you to alert anyone about what we’re doing.”

“Whatarewe doing?” I asked, rubbing my mouth—not to be rid of his taste, just to feel the fleeting remnant of his body heat.

“Running,” he said, standing tall and searching the area. “Before Dad realizes I’m about to do the opposite of what I told him.” A shiver brought my teeth together. Without pretense he slid his jacket off and draped it over me. “You’re cold, put this on.”

I was delighted to be swimming in his warmth and scent again.

Lulabelle handed him a set of keys. “Get moving. I’ll tell Dad I gave you my car because you didn’t bring one. Hopefully he won’t guess you betrayed him.”

Betrayed.It was such a severe word. Again and again, Costello kept risking his reputation ... his life ... all for me. What could motivate a man to act so recklessly?I know he promised I’d be okay, but is a promise really worth all of this?

He opened the driver’s side door. “We have to leave, Scotch.”

“Scotch,” Lula repeated. She hugged herself like she was cold, except she didn’t shiver. Not even a bit. “So that’s your real name.”

I debated how to answer her. “It does the job.” Reaching out, I scooped up her wrists. “Hey ... thank you. You didn’t need to help. I mean, you barely know me.”

She stared down at my hands as if she’d never seen them before. Under her thick lashes, her eyes had no shine. “My father has a history of shooting first, asking questions later. Especially when it comes to what he thinks is best for this family. It’s not like I could have looked the other way.”

Costello was sitting with one leg out of his door. “We need to leave. Now.”

The two of them shared a look. Lula released me, then bent down to offer me her slippers. “Take these. Now you’ll be wearing one of my full ensembles.”

Touching my sweater, I turned cherry red. “I didn’t know these were—”

She shoved the slippers at me. “It’s fine. That’s old stuff, I haven’t seen any of it since I left years ago. I’m actually surprised anyone kept it after all this time.” Her words were cryptic, and she stiffened as if she’d just realized what she’d said. “Take these and go before my brother pops a vessel.”

The car was already warm when I climbed inside. But the slippers on my feet were warmer. With a final wave at Lula, Costello drove us out of the lot and into the night.

- CHAPTER FOURTEEN -

SCOTCH

We hadn’t been driving for long before I broke the silence. “What did he say to you?”

I didn’t have to explain whohewas. Costello’s eyes danced to me, then to the empty highway. I didn’t know where we were headed yet; I wondered if he did. “Darien is awake. He’s claiming you shot him, apparently.”

“But Ididn’t. Fuck, why does no one believe me?”

“I do.” He faced me again, so serious that my blood raced for the finish line. Both of us felt the weight between us ... the same energy that had gripped us with its passionate claws and made us kiss in front of everyone on the dance floor.

Whipping his eyes away, he said, “My father does, too.”

That tidbit had my head spinning. “What? Then why are we running?”

“Because it doesn’t matter who he believes.” His voice fell, heavier than his foot on the gas pedal as we sped around a curve. “Darien belongs to the Valentines. Have you heard of them?” I shook my head. “I’m only somewhat aware, too. They’re a powerful family up in Boston. Not as notorious as mine, but just as dangerous. Maybe more so.”

Taking full breaths became harder. “Oh. Oh shit.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Shit.”

“Then ... if Darien says I shot him ... and his family takes his word ...” My voice was faint to me. Was I talking out loud still? “They’ll want revenge. They’ll—fuck, they’re going to kill me.” I stared at Costello. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. When I grabbed his shoulder and shook him, he still looked out his window. “Aren’t they? Costello! Aren’t they? Am I seriously going to die because of some egotistic asshole?”

“Scotch ...”

Digging my nails into my scalp, I gave a manic laugh that was more of a bark. “This is too much. I can’t—I mean, I seriouslycannothide from people like this forever!” Nodding over and over, I said with certainty, “This is when the police become involved.”

---