Page 42 of Royally Ruined

As we flitted through the next week, it became clear to us both that I had nothing. I tried to stay focused by giving us tasks to complete, but once we’d gone shopping for new clothes—which Scotch looked fucking amazing in—and gotten her a new phone charger, there was little left to do but wait for news. Hawthorne kept me pretty informed on that front.

“Kain and Sammy left for their honeymoon,” he’d explained to me, “and Dad still doesn’t suspect that you’ve run off with the girl he’s looking for.”

That had been the easy lie. Maverick had contacted me the day after the wedding, asking for an update. I’d explained I was still looking for leads.

When he’d asked what I’d done with my girlfriend, I’d tensed up. “Heather flew back home. I bought her a ticket, she has no idea about any of this.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

If she’d really been my girlfriend, I would have done exactly that; flown her away and kept her in the dark. The closer you got to people, the harder it was to protect them from who you really are. I’d done my best to make sure I never got close to anyone.

Until now,I thought, watching Scotch return to me from inside a tiny mall shop. “What’s that?” I asked, nodding at her bag.

She lifted it high. “Maple syrup. I told Gina I’d bring her some, and she reminded me again when we chatted the other day.”

The dancer had phoned back within an hour of Scotch’s call. Apparently she’d already gone into hiding, the instant she’d left the Bucket. When she started to tell Scotch where, I’d jumped in, growling that she should tellno one, especially over the phone, where she was.

“Paranoid,” Gina had called me.

Carefulwas more like it.

Now I walked beside Scotch as we wandered one of the many shopping malls in the state. Everything had been sorun run runthat slowing down was eerie. Did Scotch feel as unsettled by it as me?

She was wearing dark jeans, new pink sneakers, and a deliciously tight yellow sweater; I’d bought all of it for her using cash so there’d be no trail. This was the first outfit I’d seen her in that she’d chosen for herself. We passed by a mirrored window, our reflection making us appear like some cozy couple on a Sunday shopping stroll. But I wasn’t sweet; the gun under my jacket reminded me of that.

From this angle, with our arms hanging between us, it looked as if we were holding hands. An impulse greater than I—one I explained away as an urge to keep us undercover—took hold. Scooping up her fingers, I tangled them in mine tightly.

Scotch jerked from side to side. “What is it?” she hissed quietly. “What’s wrong?”

My heart deflated, sinking into my gut.She thinks I grabbed her as a warning.I let her go. “Nothing. I thought I saw something, that’s all.”Fuck, what’s wrong with me?I had to focus on somehow saving this woman from a vengeful mob brat. Not thinking of how warm her fingers were when they wrapped around mine.

Even if I wanted Scotch—and I did—I’d be the death of her. Unless I decided to be rotten levels of greedy ... I couldn’t make her mine. Love wasn’t in the cards.

What about Kain and Sammy?The thought came out of the blue; I tried to chase it off, but it clung.That’s different. HE’S different.Kain had always been blind to the reality of belonging to this family. In his ignorance ... he was free to fall in love.

I wasn’t.

Tiny but strong fingers looped around mine. Startling, I saw she was holding my hand. Scotch kept her eyes forward; her smile was plain as day. “Sorry,” she said, “I thought I saw something, too.”

Desire and delight rippled up in me so fast I wasn’t able to bury them. I didn’t want to—and they clouded the part of me that said Ihadto. Scotch had my recently rebuilt walls falling away in chunks.

“Hey!” she shouted, tugging me toward an array of windows. “Look at that!”

On the other side of the glass was a large bridge covered in cars, probably belonging to shoppers finishing up their Christmas lists. Beneath the cement beams ran a slow-moving river that had turned the edges of the bank muddy. Sprawling nearby, looking worn by time and weather, was a selection of amusement rides that were more rust than paint.

“A fair?” I asked, squinting. “In December?”

“Come on,” she laughed, never letting go as she guided me toward the stairs. Her excitement was contagious. The crisp outdoor air turned her nose bright red, making me remember how she’d told me that always happened to her.

She said that the night we hid in the motel.The night I’d come so close to kissing her ... to fucking her raw. Then we’d done all that anyway at the wedding, and somehow the push and pull remained the same between us.

Her warm hand clenched mine, forcing me to follow her through the fairgrounds. There were a surprising number of people inside. A long line of kids waited for the guy in a Santa suit, who looked miserable, even if he had to be warmer than any of them.

“Do you like roller coasters?” she asked me, staring up at the wooden rails curling overhead.

Shielding my eyes from the winter sun, I shrugged. “I haven’t been on one since I was a kid.”

“I love them,” she gushed, finally letting me go. “Will you ride it with me? It’s no fun alone.”

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