Royal Engagement

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Royal Engagement Page 144

by Chance Carter


  His friendly greeting wasn’t entirely surprising, but it was appreciated all the same. I grabbed a seat and signaled to a passing waitress that I’d have the same as Paul.

  He knocked back some of his beer and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “How have you been? You look good. Christ, you’re nearly as big as Rob.”

  “Can’t complain. I’ve been in the forces these past three years, and they took good care of me.”

  “A military man?” He smiled. “Well, for that, your beer’s on me.”

  “That’s kind of you.”

  The waitress arrived with my beer and Paul asked her to put it on his tab. Then it was back to the two of us.

  “I heard you don’t spend much time with the other guys,” I said.

  He shrugged. “I work security at the club when they need me, but I don’t hang out there outside of work. Too loud.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “Wes is still one of my best friends though,” Paul assured. “I heard that you’re coming for him. What does that mean?”

  I laughed and took a drink of beer. I was glad Nelson had passed on my warning. “He owes people close to me and me a tax and I’m here to collect.”

  “Is that so?”

  “It is.”

  “Well.” He grinned. “I don’t know whether you’re stupid or brave. I’ve always found it hard to tell.”

  “Just committed,” I corrected. “Fulfilling a promise.”

  “To whom?”

  “To myself.”

  His eyes, a green so light they were nearly translucent, lit up with amusement. Sensing that this would be a good time to swing the conversation the direction I wanted, I leaned a little closer.

  “I gotta ask, what is Preston’s deal? You’re close to him. Maybe you could help me understand it.”

  Paul furrowed his brow in genuine confusion. “Understand why he wants to kill you?”

  “No, I figured that much out for myself,” I replied with a chuckle. “I guess I’m trying to figure out what his end game is.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  I ran my tongue over my teeth in thought and tried again. “What does Preston want most in the world? He likes money but doesn’t live as lavishly as he could. It makes me think that money’s not his be all and end all.”

  Paul finally understood my question, and his face relaxed. “Oh, I see. You want to know what gets him off.”

  “Yeah. I’m curious.”

  Paul shrugged and sat back in his chair, clutching the bottle in his hand and gesturing to me when he spoke. “Fucking with people like you,” he said. “Preston likes the control. He likes to feel like he’s got the biggest dick of anyone, and that when he swings that dick, it could take out an entire village.”

  I’d thought as much myself, but Paul’s confirmation reinforced my belief that no amount of money would free Dallas. Preston would find another way to tie her and her father down, just like he’d scammed them into the debt in the first place. He was as crafty as he was cruel. As small a threat as I represented back in high school, it had still been enough for him to want me gone. Nobody else would go up to bat for the Keanes, and that was how he wanted it.

  “So that’s all he cares about? Making people subservient to him?” I asked.

  “Basically. It doesn’t matter whether it’s easy or hard, just as long as he’s top dog in the end.”

  This was frustrating news. How was I supposed to entice Preston to let Dallas and Randall go when he already had what he wanted? I didn’t have anything more attractive to offer than a beautiful woman bound to him by money and the life of her poor father.

  “You look disappointed,” Paul commented. “Were you hoping you might be able to pay your way back into town?”

  I laughed. “Something like that.”

  “You’d have better luck in a coin toss,” he said with a chortle.

  Now I was the one not getting his meaning. “The odds of a coin toss are around fifty-fifty, so a one in two chance of him accepting isn’t that bad.”

  Paul frowned. “Who said anything about odds?”

  “You did. You said I’d have better luck in a coin toss.”

  “Yeah.” His brows creased and he tilted his chin as he looked at me. “I mean he’d be more likely to let you flip for it than he would to just accept your money outright.”

  “You think he’d let me flip a coin for the chance to stay in the city?” I asked. “Why?”

  He snorted as if the answer were obvious. “The only thing Preston Gromley loves more than fucking with a person’s life is a good bet.”

  “Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

  “Didn’t think about it earlier. Finish your beer.” Paul tipped back his head and downed the rest of his Bud. I followed his lead. I couldn’t be sure if he wanted another or if he was about to tell me to beat it, but I was done anyway.

  “You’ve been a great help, Paul.” I set the empty bottle on the table and went to stand.

  “Woah there.” Paul put out a hand to stop me and rose to his feet. “I can’t just let you leave.”

  “You can’t?”

  “Nuh-uh. I’m under orders to kick your ass to next Sunday if I see you and then drag that ass up to Preston so he can deal with you.”

  “I see.”

  I studied Paul’s face. He was dead serious.

  I sighed. “I guess we better go out back then.”

  “I guess we better.”

  Paul and I exited the bar and went around to the darkened back parking lot. I tossed my jacket onto the pavement and faced him, fists hovering just under my nose. He mirrored my pose. He was a tall guy but still a couple of inches shorter than me, yet that didn’t seem to bother him. Hell, maybe he would be even more of a challenge than Nelson.

  “You ready?” Paul asked.

  “Yup.”

  An imaginary bell went off in Paul’s head, and he moved toward me, bouncing on the soles of his feet. He was quick, dodging my first punch and slamming one into my side before making a swift retreat.

  He lunged for me next, and I parried his blow but failed to deliver one of my own. Again, he stepped out of range.

  “You gonna dance around me all night?” I asked.

  He laughed. “You wait and see.”

  I didn’t feel like waiting to see. I went in for the attack, pulling back to make it seem like I was going in for a jab. Paul realized too late that I was faking him out, and lifted his guard up too high. I hit him in the side with a hook and followed it with a knee to his gut.

  Paul cried out in agony and stumbled, falling back onto his ass.

  “Fuck,” he wheezed, screwing his eyes shut and holding his side.

  “When does the ass-kicking start? I don’t wanna miss American Idol.”

  Paul cracked an eye open in a vicious glare, but his lips curved into a grin all the same.

  “Alright, tough guy. You win. Preston’s just gonna have to get you another way.”

  I laughed and walked to Paul’s side and extended a hand down to him. “He can try.”

  Paul accepted my hand up but hissed in pain. “I’m gonna need another beer. Or ten.” He stood hunched for a moment and then straightened, walking stiffly toward the bar.

  “Good to see you,” I called after him.

  His laughter carried back to me.

  I grabbed my jacket and walked back over to my bike, feeling high on more than just another victorious fight.

  Finally, finally, I might have a way to help Dallas.

  Chapter 29

  Dallas

  A couple of days passed, but my mood stayed up in the clouds thanks to the memory of my perfect first time with Shane. It felt like a hundred pound weight had been lifted from my chest, and I breezed through my daily routine without the customary dark cloud hanging overhead. Even the fact that tonight Preston was throwing a party at the house didn’t bother me like it commonly did.

  Tomorrow I had plans to s
ee Shane for the first time since that day in the meadow. I’d been busy with work and Wes, and it killed me that I couldn’t see him sooner, but the wait was nearly over. How could two days feel like a lifetime?

  I stayed up in my room for as long as I could with earplugs in, trying to read. After a while, I thought maybe Wes and Preston had forgotten about me, which would be a rare treat, but before I could get too comfortable, Wes burst through my door.

  “Whaaaydomee?” came his muffled voice.

  I dug the earplugs out. The screaming and hooting that had been blissfully muted before made me wince with its loudness. The music was bumping, but I already knew that. It had been rattling my bed for the last hour.

  “What?” I asked.

  Wes rolled his eyes. “What are you doing up here?”

  I lifted the book demonstratively. “Reading.”

  “You can’t read the night away. It’s a party, baby girl.” He walked over to the bed and snatched the book out of my hands, tossing it to the side.

  “Hey! You didn’t give me a chance to mark my spot.”

  Wes grabbed my hand and dragged me to my feet. “Who cares? You’ll figure it out.” He smacked my ass. “Come downstairs, I’ve got some people to introduce you to.”

  I sighed. “Okay. Lead the way.”

  Wes frowned and narrowed his eyes. He grabbed my arm and spun me to face him, peering down at me through thin slits.

  “I think we need to talk about your attitude before we go anywhere.”

  His breath stank of booze. I squished up my nose.

  “What attitude? I said to lead the way.” I gestured toward the door. “So let’s go.”

  Wes still hadn’t let go of my arm, and now he squeezed it harder.

  “That’s the problem,” he growled. “You don’t have an attitude. Something’s different about you.”

  “First I’m too sassy, now I’m not sassy enough?” I tried to yank my arm free, but Wes held tight. “What do you want from me?”

  He frowned, studying my face, and then finally let me go. “Let’s go.”

  I followed Wes downstairs, flattening myself against the wall at points to avoid bumping into people. Sometimes these parties were even more packed than Satan’s Perch. A lot of Preston’s friends from out of town would come and bring their whole entourages. You never knew what was going to happen.

  Wes introduced me to a few people downstairs, but none of their names or faces stuck. They never did. I wasn’t expected to remember them, just like they weren’t expected to remember my name or who I was, just that I was hot and I belonged to Wes. I endured it as long as I could before I got Wes to excuse me for a bathroom break. I didn’t need to pee, but I did need to sit down for a minute somewhere quiet-ish.

  I came back to find Wes finishing a tequila shot. He shoved one into my hand, and I did it without arguing. Being a little drunk wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if it would help me put up with him.

  “Hey! Hey!” Wes hollered across the room.

  Nelson’s head poked up, and he nodded toward Wes. Wes gestured for him to come over.

  When Nelson reached us, Wes slapped him on the back. “Have you noticed anything about Dallas lately?”

  He was slurring his words a little now, and he swayed where he stood. Nelson was shit faced too, and they made quite the pair, squinting at me.

  “You mean that she’s been in a better mood?” Nelson asked.

  “Exaaactly,” Wes hissed. “She’s been so fucking cheerful. That ain’t like her.”

  He stepped between Nelson and me, towering over my head. I felt dizzy just from the fumes of his breath.

  “Shane’s back in town,” he said. “You must’a heard that.”

  “Everybody has.”

  “But have you seen ‘im?” Wes hunched over to get closer to my face, nostrils flaring. “Is that why you’re in a good mood alluva sudden? You seen your old boyfriend?”

  “I haven’t seen him,” I replied. “Maybe I’m just in a good fucking mood.” I shoved him back. “I’m being nice, and you’re being an asshole.”

  “Oh, you’re being nice now?” Wes grabbed my chin and pulled me toward him. “How about a nice kiss?”

  Before I could stop him, Wes’s slobbery mouth descended on mine. His lips were cold as a fish’s and moved with about as much dexterity. I pushed at his chest as hard as I could but he was stronger, so I did the next best thing. Using all my strength, I swung my fist up and caught him in the ear.

  Wes staggered back a little, letting me go. I wiped my mouth and glared at him, trying to keep a hard front even though I was shaking on the inside. He looked downright murderous.

  “That’s no way to treat your boyfriend!” His amber eyes, bloodshot and cold, flared open. “You’re such a fucking tease. Always teasing me.”

  He stepped forward, and I stepped back. People were staring, but none of them would help me, and that thought alone was enough to make my heart clamber up my throat. This could be it. This could be the time when Wes snapped. Who knew that the thing that would push him over, in the end, was me being less bitchy? The irony was almost amusing.

  I was trying to interpret his intent from the anger in his eyes—was he going to beat me up in front of all these people? Would he drag me away?—when Sasha stumbled in through the doorway, spilling a little of the beer from the plastic cup in her hand. She seemed oblivious to the tense atmosphere and giggled.

  “Whoops.”

  Wes ground his teeth. “Sasha!” he barked, eyes on me.

  She stood a little straighter. “Yeah?”

  Wes finally looked away. He gestured for Sasha to approach him, and when she did, he slid an arm around her waist and dug his fingers into her ass.

  “Let’s go.”

  Sasha’s expression morphed quickly from confusion to delight as Wes led her out of the room. I didn’t take a breath until they disappeared.

  Time started flowing again, and the people who’d been gawking returned to their conversations and dancing. I closed my eyes and forced several calming breaths. Then, before Wes had a chance to change his mind, I pushed through the crowd and made my way outside.

  I grabbed my bike from the open garage and roared out of sight before anybody could stop me. I might get in trouble later for leaving the party, but at this point, it seemed like everyone was too drunk to notice. I hadn’t even seen Preston tonight, which meant he was probably locked up in his office with a menagerie of drugged up women to amuse him. But whether my absence was noted or not, I needed to escape.

  As far as I knew, Shane was still staying at Rowland’s Hardware. I parked around back and texted him to say that I was outside. He came down a moment later.

  “Dallas...” Shane’s forehead creased with concern. “What’s wrong? You look...”

  I threw myself into his arms. His scent enveloped me, warm and spicy and all his, and I snuggled in as deep as I could in the hope that maybe I wouldn’t have to come back out again.

  “Let’s go inside.” He spoke in a gentle voice, rubbing my back in comforting circles.

  I nodded against his shirt, and we walked in together. He led me up a staircase and into a small, plainly decorated office. I stood awkwardly by the door as Shane cleared a blanket and pillow from the couch, then beckoned me to sit.

  As soon as we were both on the couch, I curled back up in his arms, resting my head against his chest. There were no tears. I couldn’t be sure what to cry about. Was I upset about what happened with Wes tonight? Was I upset about my life in general? I was miserable for so many reasons, but somehow they faded into the background when I was with Shane. His presence was a shield to my woes and, even though they still hovered menacingly at the fringes, for a moment, I indulged in a bout of calm.

  “What’s the matter?” Shane’s lips brushed against the crown of my head.

  I closed my eyes. “Wes accosted me tonight. It’s the kind of thing he’s done a hundred times, but tonight it felt different.


  “What was it about?”

  I hesitated. “You.”

  Shane’s grip on my arm tightened.

  “He doesn’t know we’ve been seeing each other,” I rushed to say. “But I think you being around has made him more desperate. Either that or things are just finally boiling to a head like I always knew they would.” I choked on the next words. They were hard to say aloud, hard to acknowledge. I’d been living in a danger zone for years and had survived only by telling myself I would escape before this day ever came.

  “For the first time, I fear for my life. For my dad’s life too.” I pulled in a shaky breath. “Shane, I don’t know what to do.”

  Shane pulled me across his lap. He cradled me in his arms with a sweetness I’d never seen before.

  “I’m going to get you out of there,” Shane murmured. “I swear. I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep you and Randall safe.”

  I didn’t believe him. How could I? There was no getting out, and maybe that was why my hopelessness had compounded into bleak despair.

  I knew that someday soon I was going to have to make a choice, whether to try to escape or take my chances with staying, and that scared me more than anything. Dad and I would have to leave with nothing, and Preston would spare no expense in finding us. I could manage that risk if it were just me, but how could I put my dad through that?

  Shane didn’t need to know any of this. He wouldn’t hear it even if I told him. So I kept it to myself, and I huddled closer to his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

  “What do you want to do once you’re out?” Shane asked.

  A good question, one I tried never to think about. But hell, I could use a little fantasy right now.

  “I still want to make it on Broadway,” I told him. “Preston doesn’t want me singing in my shows because he’s worried someone might discover me or something. I still practice all the time though.”

  “That’s good.” Shane smiled down at me, true admiration in his gaze. “You’ll love New York.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Well,” he said, leaning his head against mine. “There’s a lot of people. More people than you could imagine. They flow like ocean currents around the city, changing direction based on the day or the time, but always flowing. Some of the buildings are so tall that they blot out the sun, and it’s the only place I’ve ever felt truly lost.”

 

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