Broken Prince: A Novel (The Royals Book 2)

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Broken Prince: A Novel (The Royals Book 2) Page 22

by Erin Watt


  When she pulls away, her lips have taken on a perfect rosy hue. I want to skip school, haul her off to my car, and make her turn that color everywhere.

  “Hey, little boy. Want a piece of candy?” she asks with a wicked grin.

  “Absolutely,” I answer immediately. “Where’s the van? I’m ready to be kidnapped.” I pretend to look around.

  “No van, but here—” She turns around and wiggles her backpack. Right inside the top of the pack, I discover a small white box. “There’s a donut for each of you,” she says as I pull it out.

  Easton dives for the box and has half a donut in his mouth before he hands the container back to me. He gives me two thumbs up. As I devour my own snack, I spot the twins crossing the lawn with Lauren. They give me a chin nod of acknowledgment when I wave them over.

  “One’s in there for you, too, Lauren,” Ella tells her when they arrive.

  Lauren ducks her head with a shy smile. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” Ella leans against my side as I demolish the rest of the donut. “How was practice?”

  “Good. Everyone’s hyped up for State. We got bounced in the semifinals last year. Guy from St. Francis Prep knocked Wade unconscious and the docs wouldn’t let him back in the game. Our backup couldn’t hit a target if a gun was to his head.”

  Ella snorts. “Guess you don’t care about winning, huh?”

  “Nah, not at all.” I grin. We both know I get off on winning, among other things.

  Shouting over by the steps of the school draws our attention.

  She squints. “What’s going on?”

  “Probably some playoff stuff. There’s gonna be a lot of that the next few weeks. Get your spirit on,” Easton warns.

  Ella gives an unenthused woo hoo. We’ll make a fan out of her yet.

  “The good thing about the four weeks of playoffs is that there will be days you don’t have to wear your uniform,” Lauren informs her. “Like blue days. Gold days. Crazy hat days.”

  “Pajama day.” Easton wiggles his eyebrows up and down.

  Wade and Hunter join us. “What are you grinning about?” Wade asks East.

  “Pajama day.”

  “Favorite fucking day of the year.”

  Wade and East exchange a high five. “Remember Ashley M?” my brother says. “She wore the pink—”

  “Baby doll dress,” Wade finishes. “I remember. I had a boner every time I saw pink for a month after.” He turns to Ella and asks, “What are you wearing?”

  “A floor length prairie gown and granny panties,” she says with exasperation. “What about you? I assume you guys run around in boxers?”

  Wade’s all for it. “Dude, if it was allowed, I’d be naked all day. Free balling twenty-four-seven. That’s my dream.”

  Before either East or I can make a crack about how we don’t want to see Wade’s nuts and sausage out during class, the yelling and murmuring from the front doors gets louder.

  Hunter, Wade’s ever-present but never talking companion, peels away to investigate. The rest of us follow because class is starting soon.

  The noise isn’t necessarily out of place, but the crowd of students five deep is. Only football games draw this kind of crowd. Even then, for most kids the games are just an excuse to get together and socialize.

  I exchange a wary look with East and Wade. Even Hunter recognizes this is out of place. As one, we start pressing forward. Ella’s hand is on my back and I reach behind so I clasp her wrist. I don’t want to lose her. This doesn’t feel good or right.

  And the spectacle that greets us is about as bad as it can get. Taped up against the rough brick exterior of the main entrance is a nearly naked girl. Her head is bowed, and even from a distance, I can see a section of her hair hacked out of the back. Her arms and legs are spread wide and she seems to be supported only by tape. A shit ton of it. It crosses her body above the chest and along the thighs, emphasizing the parts covered only in her underwear and bra.

  My stomach turns over.

  “Jesus. What is wrong with you people?” Ella yells.

  Before I can blink, she runs by me, dropping her backpack and ripping off her blazer at the same time. The girl is too high for Ella to fully cover, but she tries.

  I reach Ella at the same time as Hunter, and we start tearing at the tape while Ella holds her blazer up. Next to me, I see Hunter pull a knife out of his boot. He starts slicing and I start peeling.

  There’s so much tape, it takes us five minutes before we get the girl down. East hands me a jacket and I try to place it around the girl’s shoulders. She jerks away, crying so hard I’m afraid she’s going to throw up. Or pass out.

  Ella takes the jacket from me. “It’s okay. Here. Put this on,” she soothes. “What’s your name? Can you tell me what your gym locker is? Do you have clothes there?”

  The girl can’t—or won’t—respond. She continues to sob.

  I clench my fists at my side in dismay. I want to kill someone.

  One of the twins pipes up. “I’ve got shit in the car. Hold on.”

  A couple more jackets are tossed in our direction until Ella and the girl are covered with them. “Lauren, come here,” Ella commands.

  Lauren hurries to her side and crouches down. Carefully, Ella shifts the wounded girl from her arms to Lauren’s. Once the transfer is done, Ella rises to her feet and stares at the assembled students.

  “Who did this?” she growls at the crowd. “Someone saw something. Who did this?”

  No one responds.

  “I swear to God, if someone doesn’t say something right now, then I’m holding you all responsible!”

  “I’ll find out, Ella,” Wade murmurs. “I can find out anything.”

  “It’s Jordan,” I say flatly. “This reeks of her.”

  “It was Jordan,” come the choked words from the girl. “She…” Her voice is too faint for me to make it out. Ella leans down close to the girl’s mouth and listens intently. When she stands again, there’s fury in her eyes.

  This time I address the crowd. “Jordan Carrington. Where is she?”

  “Inside,” someone yells.

  Another voice chimes in. “I saw her go to her locker.”

  Ella doesn’t wait another second. She turns on her heel and jerks open a door. Easton and I are hot on her ass, while the twins stay rooted by Lauren’s side.

  By the time we hit the hall where the senior lockers are, Ella’s running. She skids to a stop when we spot Jordan giggling with the Pastels, taking selfies in front of the locker bank.

  Jordan slowly lowers the phone at Ella’s approach. “What’s the hurry, princess? You can’t spend another second without some Royal dick in you?”

  Ella doesn’t respond. Instead, quick as lightning, her hand jerks out, grabs Jordan by the hair, and swings her into the locker. The phone goes flying. The Pastels back away. Gastonburg rounds the corner at Jordan’s scream, but I bare my teeth at him and he disappears. Coward.

  Ella’s not done. She brings an elbow up to Jordan’s nose. Whack! Blood spurts.

  East winces. “Damn, that had to hurt.”

  “No doubt.”

  Jordan tears out of Ella’s grip with a cry, but Ella shakes her fingers and I see that Jordan’s escape wasn’t without cost. A bunch of dark strands hang off Ella’s hand. Yeah. That’s my girl.

  Claws out, Jordan lunges forward and rakes those nails down Ella’s face. Easton moves to jump in for the assist, but I pull him back. “She’s got this,” I murmur.

  I want to help, too, but I know this is Ella’s match. If she takes Jordan down—no, when she does—no one in this school will touch Ella again. No one will say a bad word to her. They’ll all fear her.

  And I want that for her. She’s going to need it when I’m gone next year.

  As Ella surges forward, the older girl backs away, tripping and losing her balance. Ella jumps on top, straddling Jordan. She grabs Jordan’s hands and pins them above her head.

  “Wh
at’d she do?” Ella asks. “She look at you wrong? Wear the wrong label? What?”

  “She exists,” Jordan spits, wiggling under Ella’s hold. “Get off me, you friggin’ cow!”

  Ella glances up at me. “Do you have any rope?” There’s blood on her face— some of it might be Jordan’s, some of it’s from Ella.

  She’s never looked hotter.

  “No. Use my shirt.” I take it off and hand it to her.

  She looks at the cloth and then at me with uncertainty.

  “Can I help?” I ask gently.

  When she nods, I whip the shirt into a long rope and tie Jordan’s wrists together.

  “What’re you doing? Stop this! This is assault!” Jordan cries and thrashes to the side. “Get this piece of garbage off of me!”

  One of the Pastels steps forward. I shake my head no, while Easton takes a menacing step in their direction. Their small show of resistance immediately dissolves.

  Ella stands up and tests the knots.

  “I know how to tie knots. Grew up in that yacht,” I remind her.

  “Let me go, bitch!” Jordan screams. “My dad will have you arrested so fast your head will spin.”

  “Good.” Ella starts down the hall toward the exit, dragging Jordan behind her. “I look forward to getting statements from three hundred kids about what we found outside this morning.”

  “What do you care? I’ve left you alone just like your fuck buddy demanded.” Jordan yanks at the cloth, but Ella’s grip holds firm.

  “I care because you’re an entitled, spoiled rich girl who thinks she can smile out of one side of her mouth while vomiting poison out of the other. You’re not untouchable. Today you’re going to face the results of your awfulness.” Ella marches implacably toward the front doors, pulling Jordan along.

  We follow behind.

  “I can’t believe you guys are letting her do this!” Jordan twists around as if East and I are interested in saving her. “She’s nothing. She’s trash.”

  “Don’t talk to them,” Ella orders. “You don’t exist for them.”

  My brother grins like a fool. “I love this chick,” he mouths.

  Me too.

  Avenger Ella is amazing. She’ll fight tooth and nail for what she wants. The key is to remain what she wants. Because she’d leave your deadweight ass behind if she didn’t think you were worth it.

  A few teachers poke their heads out of the classrooms, but at the sight of us they scuttle back inside. The faculty knows who’s in charge in this zoo, and it’s not them. More than one student has gotten a teacher fired for some perceived wrong.

  “What now?” Jordan snipes. “You going to show everyone that you’re stronger than me? So what?”

  At the front doors, I take one side and Easton the other. We bang open the doors and the sharp sound grabs the attention of the crowd.

  Ella drags Jordan through and then stops. Tape still hangs on the wall, like an obscene flag. Ella jerks a strip of it off and slaps it over Jordan’s mouth.

  “I’m so tired of you running your mouth,” Ella says.

  The look of shock on Jordan’s face is laughable, but when my gaze falls on the abused girl, still huddled in Lauren’s arms, the humor drains away.

  Ella pulls Jordan onto the landing. A collective gasp echoes in the courtyard.

  The girl who was strapped to the front is sitting under a mound of coats, with Lauren’s arm around her and a few other girls offering comfort. The twins, along with Wade, Hunter and half the football team, are loitering on the steps, wondering who they should be fighting and frustrated that there isn’t a target.

  I empathize with them a hundred percent, but as I telegraphed to East, this is Ella’s show and I’ll fight anyone for her to finish it the way she wants.

  “Look at her.” Ella lets the makeshift rope go and grabs Jordan’s hair again. With her free hand, she rips the tape off Jordan’s mouth. “Tell her to her face why she deserved what you did. Explain it to all of us.”

  “I don’t answer to you,” Jordan replies, but her voice isn’t as strong as it was inside.

  “Tell us why we shouldn’t strip you down and tape you up on the doors,” Ella growls. “Tell us.”

  “She thought I was flirting with Scott,” the girl says tearfully. “But I wasn’t. I swear. I tripped and he caught me and I thanked him. That was it.”

  “That’s it?” Ella turns incredulously toward Jordan. “You humiliated this poor girl because you thought she flirted with your foul-mouthed boyfriend?” She shakes Jordan in furious anger. “That’s it?”

  Jordan pulls at Ella’s grip, but Ella isn’t letting go. I think the apocalypse could come before she lets go.

  She swings around, forcing Jordan to face the rest of the students. Ella’s arms are shaking with the effort and I can see she doesn’t have much strength left in her. Dragging Jordan down the hall while she was struggling couldn’t have been easy, even with East and me bringing up the tail.

  “She’s not going to make it,” Easton mutters.

  “She will.” I walk forward and place my body behind hers. She can lean against me if she needs to. I’m here to support her. Beside me, I feel the presence of my brothers. All of us are behind her.

  Ella’s hands are shaking. Her knees are locked so she doesn’t fall over, but her voice is clear and strong. “You all have so much, and instead of appreciating it, you treat each other like dirt. Your little games are disgusting. Your silence is gross. You’re all pathetic, spineless cowards. Maybe no one’s told you how small you are for doing it. Maybe you’re all so jaded by all the money you have, you don’t see how awful this is. But it’s terrible. It’s worse than terrible. If I have to attend school here until I graduate, this shit isn’t going on anymore. If I have to, I’ll come after each and every one of you and tape your asses to the school wall.”

  “You and what army?” some unwise asshat yells from the crowd.

  Easton and I jump forward, but I push my brother behind me. “I’ve got this.”

  The crowd parts and the wise-ass with the loud mouth is left standing all alone. I haul off and throw one fist at his jaw, and he drops like a stone. Damn, that felt good.

  Then I smile at the crowd and ask, “Who’s next?”

  As they all turn away in gutless silence, I brush my hands off and walk back to my girl and my brothers. Wade throws me a spare shirt, which I quickly shrug on.

  “The last bit was a nice touch,” Ella murmurs.

  “Thanks. I’ve been saving it for the right occasion.” I take her bruised hand in mine. “The family that fights together, stays together.”

  “Is that the Royal motto? I thought it was something else.”

  The adrenaline has worn off and I can feel her trembling. I tuck her close to me, head under my chin, body wrapped in my arms. “It might have been, before you came, but I think that’s what it is now.”

  “It’s not a bad motto.” With a wry look, she glances around at the scattering crowd, the remnants of tape strewn on the steps, and the droplets of blood on the limestone. “So. Is this our first date?”

  “No way. Our first date was...” I trail off. What was our first date?

  “You haven’t taken me on a date, dummy.” She punches me—or attempts to. It’s kind of like a bird’s kiss at this point given that her arms are as weak as jellyfish.

  “Damn. I think you’re right.”

  “Don’t knock yourself for it. I’ve never been on a date before. Do people even go on dates anymore?”

  I grin, because finally I can do something for her. “Oh, baby, you got a lot to learn.”

  It doesn’t take long for news of the morning’s activities to reach the headmaster. I barely get my ass in my chair for my first class before the teacher informs me I’m wanted in Beringer’s office. When I get there, I discover that Ella and Jordan were pulled out of class too, and all the parents were called. Fuck. This isn’t going to be good.

  The office is crowde
d. Ella and I sit on one side with my father behind us. A stone-faced Jordan is next to me, and I can feel her vibrating between fear and rage.

  Jordan’s victim, a freshman named Rose Allyn, sits on the far side of the room. Her mom has been complaining non-stop about how she’s missing an important meeting for this.

  Finally, Beringer sweeps in and closes the door with a bang. When Ella jumps at the noise, both Dad and I put a hand out to steady her—his on her shoulder and mine on her knee. Our eyes meet, and for once, I see approval in his. Whatever Beringer decides to do, it’s not going to matter to Dad. What matters to him is that I stood up for our family, that I’m not the selfish prick I act like most of the time.

  Beringer clears his throat, and we all turn toward him. In his thousand-dollar suit, he’d be right at home in Dad’s boardroom. Idly, I wonder if he bought that hand-tailored suit using the money my dad paid him after I beat up Daniel and what he’ll buy out of the bribes he’ll pocket after today’s meeting.

  “Violence is never the answer,” he begins. “A civilized society begins and ends with spirited discourse, not fist fights.”

  “I thought the saying was an armed society is a polite society,” Dad interjects dryly.

  Ella’s hand flies up to her mouth to cover a laugh.

  Beringer glares at us. “I’m beginning to see why the Royals have such a difficult time getting along with their classmates.”

  “Wait a minute.” Ella straightens indignantly. “None of the Royals taped anyone to a wall.”

  “Well, not this year,” I murmur.

  Dad cuffs me lightly across the back of my head while Ella shoots me a dirty look. “What? You think these assholes fall in line because I say so?” I mutter under my breath.

  “Mr. Royal, if I may have your attention,” Beringer barks out before Ella can respond.

  I kick out my legs and throw an arm across the back of Ella’s chair. “Sorry,” I reply with absolutely zero remorse. “I was explaining to Ella that Astor really doesn’t tolerate things like taping half-naked freshmen to the front of the school. She has this weird idea that public school is better.”

  “Callum, you need to exert better control over your son,” Beringer orders.

 

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