Page 76 of Royally Ruined

“Wait!” Scotch screamed. “Please, don’t shoot him! It’s me you want. Right?”

I hesitated long enough to look up and see that Darien had trained his gun on me. Horace threw me back into a headlock, yanking me onto my feet. Breathing became a chore, my brain and lungs both fighting for air at the same time.

Scotch had her hands on Darien’s, trying to force him to point the pistol away from me. But more than that ...No,I thought in horror.

She was making him point it at her.

Scowling viciously, he elbowed her, but she hung on. “What are you doing?” he hissed. “Let go! Are you trying to make me shoot you?”

Something in her eyes shifted. The fear was gone. “That’s right,” she said, guiding the tip of the barrel toward her chest. “Remember this? It’s just like that first night all over again. You tried to kill me and you couldn’t. You didn’t know how to use a gun at all!”

Deep rows split over his forehead, then around his mouth. “What?”

“I said you couldn’t use your gun! Is that why you shot yourself?”

She’s goading him, but why?We were already in massive danger; what was the point of making Darien so furious?

“You stupid bitch!” He snarled the words out. Crimson heat had rolled up his neck; he was beyond humiliated. “You wanna relive that night, is that it?” He stopped fighting her hands; Darien wrapped her throat in one palm, grinding the tip of his gun into her ribs with the other. “Is this familiar? This is how your pretty friend looked when I choked her. Before you busted in to act like a fucking hero.”

Horace squeezed my windpipe, and still I cut my fingernails down his forearm. I swung my body, doing all I could to break free and save her.

The gun shone brighter than Scotch’s wide eyes. “You really think it’ll be different this time?” she asked.

“I do,” he chuckled. “You’re just so clever, hm? It doesn’t matter that you slipped away from me before.” He moved the gun, running it down his own torso. “I might have putthishole here on my own. But it’s nothing compared to the holes I’m about to put in you.” His tongue ran round and round over his lips. “I wanted this to be slow. I guess you get your wish, though.”

My vision was fading. And still I couldn’t look away from Scotch. I caught how she smiled, bigger and brighter and more beautiful than ever. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess I do.”

In my ear Horace said, “After you’re gone, and the Valentines trust me again, I’m going for your sister. She was so sweet when she cried to me in the station, so worried about you. I want to see her crying again.”

Strength I shouldn’t have had broke free. In one motion I rocked forward into his grip. I didn’t feel the pain on my Adam’s apple; I felt nothing but the teeth and claws of the monster inside me. The one that had waited patiently to blame someone other than me for what had happened ten years ago.

My ears were ringing with a thousand bells and I heard nothing but my fists connecting with Horace’s bleeding face. Then the windows smashed open, blue and red lights streaming inside. “Freeze!” Detective Stapler roared, his weapon aimed not at me, but at Darien. There were at least eight more men behind him doing the same thing.

The cops. But how did they ... What ...I was lost. And I didn’t care, because all I needed to know was one thing:

Scotch was safe.

At my feet Horace started to scramble. Hoisting him by his hair, I pushed him at one of the police officers. “Take him,” I said, my voice scratchy. I rubbed my sore throat. “He’s a two-faced cop on the Valentine family’s dime.”

The officer started to ask me something; I was already walking away. I didn’t have time for questions. My world centered on the only person who mattered to me. She wasn’t alone; her uncle was there, cuffing Darien a few feet away.

Scotch saw me coming. Wrapping my arms around her body, I tried to hold all of her at once—her mind, her soul, I wanted every piece of her. She was mine. She always would be.

“How?” I asked into her hair, not letting her break away so she could answer. “How could you do this to me? How are youaliveright now?”

Gently she pushed me until I gave her enough of a gap to breathe. One hand curled on her shirt. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I had it all under control.”

My laugh was bitter as old coffee. “He had a gun on you. Scotch, he—”

“He was an egotistical jackass.” Her eyes flashed, daring me to interrupt her. “Darien was the cockiest man I ever met. Unlike some people I know ...” She peeled her shirt up, revealing a long black tube taped across her sternum. “He didn’t know how to frisk someone for a wire.”

When I reimagined the scene, knowing she’d been trying to get him to admit what had happened at the club weeks ago, it blew my mind. “You were playing the long game,” I whispered. “You knew you had to get him to admit he’d done this all to himself.”

“Yeah,” she said, looking over at her uncle. “I wasn’t going to let myself be like Stanford.”

I followed her eyes. “Were you ever in any real danger?”

“He was waiting with the other cops right outside, listening in. They even had some sniper rifles aimed at Darien. Did you know these Boston guys hate the Valentines? Like, really hate them?” She swung her head with a light laugh. “He assembled this whole squad, the recording devices, everything, in just a few hours. Amazing.”

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