Page 68 of Royally Ruined

I’d listened to my father tell me so many stories about working on the street. I’d always listened with rapt attention, and now was no different.

He said, “Montana was there, claiming Stanford had been attempting insurance fraud. Guess the plan was to burn the building, make it look like an accident, but Montana caught him in the act. Of course Stanford denied it, but most of the employees were siding with his brother. Even as they refused to look me in the eye, they claimed they’d seen Stanford pour gasoline in the store the night before, then stash the container in the dumpster. It was there when I looked. I had no choice but to arrest him.”

“I don’t get how that’s the same as what happened to me,” I said reluctantly.

Chuckling dryly, my uncle said, “Those employees knew Montana was lying. He lied just to gain control of the store, and they held the lie together. Montana rewarded them for their part in it—one of the cashiers was driving around in a Corvette she couldnotafford just a week later.”

Costello’s fingers dug into the edge of the table. “Of course. Darien is lying to save face, but his family is taking the lie and using it. As long as there’s no way to deny his claim, they’ll back him up ... and they’ll go to war ... because they already wanted to. People will rally behind them. And why not?Weput a hit out on their son.”

Tiny Pop Rocks explosions worked through my bloodstream. This whole mess was bigger than me. Bigger than Costello. “This is insane. But it changes nothing.”

“You’re right,” my uncle agreed. “This needs to be handled carefully. I can find a way to get you into witness protection, Heather. You and Gina.”

“I’m not doing that! Uncle, I’m done hiding. And what would happen to Costello and the others?”

With the utmost severity, my uncle said, “I don’t care if those two families destroy each other.”

Costello’s lips made a sad smile. “I’d expect no less from a man with a badge.”

My dad put up a hand. “Watch yourself, kid.”

Fire danced through Costello’s vision; he was half standing. “Don’t call mekid. Ever.”

“Guys,” I laughed nervously. “Take a breath. I have an idea, if you’ll listen.” They were all standing now, just glaring at one another. “If this comes down to Darien and his ego, maybe the solution is simple. Can’t I just reason with the man?”

I wilted under their disbelieving stares. “Of course not!” Costello growled. “Scotch, you’re not going anywhere near him! He’s dangerous!”

“Hear me out—” I began.

“No more dangerous than you,” Uncle Jimmy muttered.

Costello’s rage morphed into a poisonous grin. He was fighting his disgust for my uncle, for my father, and I knew that ... but it made it no easier to witness. “You’re right. Iamdangerous. It’s why Scotch is still alive. You could have never done as much as I have.”

“Her name isHeather,” my father growled.

Kicking his chair aside, my uncle walked two steps forward to square off with the other man. His hand was on his hip, where his gun was. Costello’s fingers were steady at his sides; I was sure he could grab his pistol faster than anyone in the room. “I don’t care about the past. I care about the future, and I’m going to make sure Heather has one. And as long as you’re here, you’re in the way of that.”

Pain wrenched through Costello’s face.

“Guys!” I shouted, moving to stand in between them. “Calm down! We can make this work!”

Costello took a long, deep breath. He was on one side of me, and my dad and uncle were on the other. If you stepped back from the scene, it would have looked like he was preparing to fight all three of us ... and he’d realized he couldn’t.

“No,” Costello said, dodging around me. “Your uncle is right. I’m just in the way.” He snatched his jacket up and slid it on as he hurried down the skinny hallway.

Next to me my father whispered, “Good riddance.”

I ran to the open front door just in time to see Costello peel out of the driveway in the white Charger. Behind me my uncle grunted. “Let him go. We can make our plans without him.”

Clutching the doorframe, I tensed up. “Why can’t you understand that he isn’t like the rest of his family?”

“Heather—”

“Scotch,” I growled. “I go by Scotch.”

He was taken aback. “Listen. I’m only trying to keep you safe.”

The snow was burning my nose as it drifted inside. “So was he.”

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