Royally Broken (Royal Bastards MC: Royal Sons CA)

by Elle Boon

  “That song, it has a line about an average guy,” she explained. Her cheeks pinkened.

  Keys kept his hand on the little boy’s back making sure he didn’t move as he leaned down to Palmer’s ear. “You got that right, Palmer. There is nothing about me that could be deemed—average.”

  In his head he counted down from five, getting to the number three before her eyes widened when she realized what he was referring to. That blush bumped up to a brighter hue, making him wonder if she would look like that when she was aroused.

  “You’re a bad boy, Keys.”

  He caught the finger she shook at him. “I’ve not been a boy for a very long time, sassy girl. You best remember that.”

  “Trust me, I’m very aware of what you are and what you aren’t.” She moved to the register, ending their conversation.

  Several people stood watching them. He could see the curiosity in their stares, their clear distrust as they looked at him and his attire. He purposefully left his cut on. He was a Royal Bastard; the MC was his family. These good ole people could suck his balls. They’d allowed the bitch Claire to abuse him along with her grown boys for eighteen fucking years, none of them stepping in to help. Not a single person except Palmer. He was back for two reasons. To find out who the fuck the motherfucker in the image Palmer sent him was, and to make Palmer his. Alright, three reasons. To take Palmer and her son back with him when he left.

  PALMER HATED THE WAY everyone was watching and judging both her and Silas. Ack, he was Keys now. Her heart was still galloping a million miles a minute, just like it had each time she had been near him. Years hadn’t dulled the affect he had on her. In fact, she was sure it was worse now than it had been when she was a young girl. Back then she knew what being excited was. Lawd did she ever. Her first orgasm had been after seeing him laid out on that rock. She felt a little guilty for the way her body got excited by looking at his, but then she’d noticed his had reacted to her as well. At the time she didn’t know all boys weren’t the same size.

  Her first time seeing a penis up close after Keys had been with her college boyfriend. What an absolute disaster that had been. The memory made her snort as she put her credit card into the slot. Poor Ben didn’t enjoy her comment that she thought all men were going to be—big like Silas. In hindsight, she should’ve stayed silent and let him have her virginity instead of saving it for her wedding night. A shiver of revulsion went through her.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am but your card is declined.”

  Palmer recoiled, embarrassed at the girl’s loud statement. “There must be a mistake.” It was a platinum American Express card. There’s no way it was declined.

  “You can try it again, but I warn you, if you do it too much I’ll have to confiscate and cut it up in front of you.”

  The way the little bitch said it like she looked forward to doing it, made Palmer look closer. She didn’t recognize her; was sure she’d never met her before. “Do I know you?”

  “Why do you ask? Are you so important you think everyone should know who you are? There’s twenty thousand people in town. Get over yourself.” She tossed her clearly fake blonde hair over her shoulder.

  Keys moved next to her, handing Jaxson over to Palmer. “I got this, Palmer. What’s your name, girl?”

  The girl pointed at her tag right above her breasts. “Sabrina. What’s yours?”

  Palmer wanted to smack Sabrina upside her bleach blonde head and snatch her false eyelashes right the fuck off.

  Keys ignored the girl, inserting his own black American Express card into the machine. If anyone knew how you get a card like his, they’d know you had to be invited to get one, had to spend over a hundred thousand a year and show an annual income of over one million. Not to mention the induction fees were pretty steep for most. Keys had no problems meeting the criteria.

  Sabrina’s eyes followed his card, blinking furiously. “What kind of card is that?”

  When the machine said approved, he pulled the Am Ex Card out, putting it back in his wallet. “My credit card, girl. Need the receipt, Palmer?” he asked, seeing her grin as he all but ignored the rude cashier.

  “Nah, it’s baby food and junk.”

  “Well, then, let’s roll.” He grabbed the plastic bags filled with their goods and walked out, knowing the town would be buzzing with the news that Palmer’s friend paid for her shit. Whatever was going on with her card he’d suss out once they were back at the B&B.

  “Thank you for paying for all this. I’ll pay you back when we get to the B&B. Where are you staying?” Palmer asked.

  He stopped walking, looked down at the woman who fucking had him by the balls, staring at the utter beauty. “We’ll discuss it when we get to your suite.”

  They probably looked like the most fucked up pair in town. Palmer in the sexy as hell little A- line dress that hit her a couple inches above her knees, giving him a flash of smooth thighs when she moved. Yeah, he knew all about women’s clothing since he was the one who had to buy the stuff for their rescued clients. Most didn’t have a stitch on when they brought them out of wherever they were. Since he researched the fuck out of each and every client, he tended to make sure they had something familiar to put on after they were saved. Then you had him, black from head to toe, a chain attached to one of his belt loops in front going into his back pocket hooked to his billfold. He’d know if a pickpocket tried to lift his wallet, but the chain wasn’t stainless steel like most would think. Platinum was the most expensive metal and since he didn’t have anyone else to spend money on, besides Maui and Moana his Pitbull Mastiffs, he splurged on things he liked.

  “You’ve gone awfully quiet.” Palmer’s southern voice brought him out of his own head.

  “I was contemplating what people in the good old town of Lionsville saw when they looked at the sweetheart of the place walking with a dirty biker.” He nodded toward the courthouse where he could see the sheriff talking to another man.

  “That’s Sheriff Stroud. He won the election last fall when his daddy stepped down.”

  Keys was good at hearing things in tone if he couldn’t see a person speak. “Who ran against him?”

  “Paul Simmons. He graduated a year before you did. He just returned after a couple tours overseas. His family are really nice, so is Paul and his wife.” She kept her head straight.

  He grunted, knowing exactly why the new sheriff got his position. “Good ole nepotism still strong in town I see.”

  “Ssh, they’ll hear you,” she muttered, trying to walk faster.

  Keys had shifted the bags to his left hand, mainly because he always kept his right free in case he needed to go for his gun or knife, but also because he wanted to be able to touch Palmer if he chose. Which he did, placing his palm on the small of her back. At her scared whisper, he moved his hand up to her neck, squeezing gently.

  “Palmer, I want you to listen to me and actually hear what I say. None of those motherfuckers scare me. Trust me when I say I’ve dealt with little shits who are a whole lot more fucked than any of these assholes ever thought of being. And guess what?” He put his lips close to her ear, uncaring that the entire town square could see them. “Ain’t none of them bastards alive today. You know why? Because either I killed them, or one of my brothers did. We don’t let those who deserve death, those vile worthless cretins that use and abuse others without a care, live to see another day if they cross us.” He bit her earlobe.

  “I know I should be scared, or something other than what I am.”

  They were stopped at the four-way at the end of Main Street. “What are you, sassy girl?”

  “Turned on. Maybe a little afraid, but not to where I feel like I should run away and hide.” She kept her face averted.

  Keys looked back, noticing the police cruiser following their progress. “That’s good. You’re safer with me than you’ll ever be. Both you and Hoss.”

  Palmer leaned over the stroller trying to see the sleeping boy. Keys moved behind her,
shielding her, making sure the little prick in the police car wasn’t seeing what was his.

  “He really is a little Hoss.” The light turned green, signaling for them to move forward.

  Keys put his hand over hers, his neck tingled. Without making it too obvious, he maneuvered them farther away from the corner instead of moving forward, putting a good four feet from the road and them. Seconds ticked by. Palmer quirked a brow. “Trust me,” he told her.

  He’d kept his body on the outside, a shield between the street and his people. Palmer and Hoss were his. His to protect, his to love. They may not know it yet, but that was the truth of the matter.

  It was only about twenty seconds later when a truck flew past, an inebriated, or seemingly so driver swerved, hitting the curb where Palmer and he had been, the truck barreling toward them at an alarming speed. Keys picked up the stroller with Jaxson in it in his right hand, Palmer in his left, shoving them and himself into the doorway of the hardware store, barely missing being plowed into.

  If they’d walked into the street when the light had signaled, they would’ve had no protection. Fury unlike any he’d ever felt raced through his veins.

  The baby’s cry reassured him little Hoss wasn’t injured too badly thanks to the stroller and the fact he was strapped in. Palmer knelt in front of the contraption, struggling to unbuckle him. He kept his body between them and the street, battling with the need to chase the truck and staying with his woman and child. “Where the fuck is that cop?”

  “He probably chased after Blaire.”

  The fury exploded into red-hot rage. “He’s a dead man,” he promised.

  Palmer touched his arm. “Don’t,” she cried. “He’s not worth it. I can’t...can’t lose you.”

  Her tears undid him. Keys opened his arms, enfolding the two most important people in his life, keeping his back to the town. They’d always turned a blind eye to him, but he’d be damned if they’d do that this time. “Come on, let’s see if any of the groceries are salvageable.”

  He used his thumbs to dry her tears, then without stopping to think, he bent, kissing her for the first time as a man, claiming her sweet bee-stung lips.

  “Oh,” she gasped.

  “I really like the way you blush. Makes me wonder if you turn this same color all over.” He ran his knuckle down her jaw to the front of her neck where the dress scooped right above the swell of her breasts, all prim and proper.

  “You make my knees weak. I could see myself losing all sense with you.” Her chest rose and fell in a deep exhale.

  “That’s alright, sassy girl. I’ll catch you if you fall. If you get lost, you can bet your sweet ass I’ll find you, or I’ll be there getting lost with you.”

  “Hey, are you okay? I saw that drunk ass Langley almost run you over. I already called the sheriff’s office. They asked if there were any injuries. When I said I didn’t think so they told me to tell you to come in and file a report.”

  Keys took a deep breath before turning to face whoever was behind him. Repeating the mantra to not kill the messenger cooled his inner serial killer, some. “Thanks for your assist. Did you tell them what you saw?”

  The young man nodded; his gaze awestruck.

  “Did they take your name and ask you to come in for a statement?” He knew standard protocol. However, this wasn’t a normal situation.

  “Um, no, they just said for you to come in.”

  He wasn’t sure what the kid saw on his face that had him stepping backward. It took effort, but Keys schooled his features into the one he showed the public. “Thanks, kid. Here.” He fished his wallet out, extracting a card and a fifty-dollar bill.

  “Oh, no, I don’t need that.”

  Keys heard truth in his tone, making him more firm in his actions. “Listen, I repay those who do me a solid. You did a good deed for us. Now, take the money and run. That card has a number for you to ring if you ever need help.”

  He wouldn’t tell him it was monitored by a system that filtered calls, making whoever the caller is, unaware of where the call is being answered and by who. Paranoid has kept him and his brothers safe all these years for a reason. Sure, the Royals had done a damn fine job before he’d joined them. However, he’d made them richer than they’d been and given them a level of cyber security than superseded even that of the government.

  Palmer’s hand slipping into his pocket, not the one with his wallet but the other, tempered him. “Sassy girl, I want you to carry Hoss unless he’s too heavy for you. Can you do that?” They didn’t have far to go to reach their destination, but he didn’t want the baby in the carrier if he had to pick them up again.

  “Yeah, I can carry him and the stroller.” Her voice shook, pissing him off.

  Spinning back around, he lifted her chin so she could see his face when he spoke. “I can and will keep you safe. I asked you before if you trusted me and you said yes. I’m asking you again. Do you trust me?”

  She licked her lips, nodding.

  “I want the words.”

  “Yes, I trust you.”

  “Good girl.” He gave her a swift hard kiss, breaking away as a tiny little fist punched him in the jaw. “Is that right, hoss baby? You gonna knock me out if I kiss your mama? Well I hate to break it to you, little buddy, but I plan to do a lot more of that.” He gave the kid a gentle kiss on his forehead. Damn kid tugged at a heartstring he hadn’t known he possessed. He gathered up the groceries that had fallen out of the bags and his people, ‘cause that was exactly what Palmer and Jaxson were, his.

  Chapter Six

  Palmer wanted to weep at the easy affection Keys gave both her and her son. Watching him talk to Jaxson like he was a person instead of insult him—like the bastard who’d fathered him, made her wish she could go back in time. Of course, she wouldn’t do that because then she wouldn’t have her sweet boy. Life and its curves sucked sometimes.

  They made it back to the Bed & Breakfast without further incident. That was until they entered the front door. Karla, the owner was waiting for them. Or rather she seemed to be waiting for Palmer. The nice woman who had bought and renovated the old estate, looked as though she’d been biting her nails, and running her hands through her hair. Which was out of character for the always put together woman.

  “Karla, is something wrong? Is Gary okay?” she asked, knowing Karla’s husband was the one who did most of the fixing around the place even when he shouldn’t.

  “What? Oh, yes, he’s fine. Stubborn but fine. It’s just—I don’t know how to say this, but—her eyes darted to Keys then to Palmer. “Can I speak to you in my office for a moment?”

  Keys put a hand on Palmer’s shoulder. “Whatever you have to say you can say in front of me.”

  “It’s fine, Karla. What’s the matter?” For a moment she worried something had happened to her MeMaw or grandfather. Karla knew how close she’d been to them since they’d raised her, everyone in town did.

  “I’m sorry, but when I went to run your card for today it was declined. I tried it again, but a note popped up saying to confiscate the card. I’m not going to do that, but well, I couldn’t get payment for your suite.” Karla fidgeted as if embarrassed.

  “This has to be a mistake,” Palmer whispered. She was rich in her own right since Thomas’s death and being his widow. What the heck was going on?

  “Put her suite on my card and whatever else she might need, Karla. Was that all?” Keys bit out.

  “I can’t ask you to do that, Keys.”

  He shook his head. “You didn’t ask, but I’m insisting. I’m assuming you didn’t remove her things while we were gone?”

  Palmer shivered at his hard tone.

  “Good gracious, no.” Karla’s hand went to her chest as if she was offended.

  “If you get any inquiries about either of us, you won’t be saying a word, correct?” Keys question made her look at the owner with renewed eyes. Her day had started out full of promise. The sun had been shining, her suite of rooms was b
eautiful, and she was out from under her grandfather after securing her future. Or so she’d thought. Why was her card getting denied?

  “Karla, if anyone calls or comes in search of me, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t give out my personal information to anyone. I—I do not wish to speak to anyone at this time.” Crap on a cracker, she didn’t wish to speak to anyone in this town at all.

  “Of course. If there’s anything either of you need give the front desk a call. Oh, Mr. Royal, your receipt for Mrs. Kincaid’s room.” She held the slip of paper out.

  Keys phone dinged. “Already got my copy. Technology is a wonderful thing, Karla. If you know your way around a computer, and the right people, you can find out everything there is to know about them. Why, you can even find out if they’d been married before and if they’d fooled around with their student, left their wife of seven years with a little one, to marry the barely legal student. Amazing what a little digging can come up with, don’t you think? You have a nice day now, you hear?”

  Palmer was watching Keys and Karla, feeling like she was watching a movie without knowing the language. Keys firm arm around her back guided them toward the wing where her rooms was located, his control absolute while she felt anything but. She stayed quiet, her mind reeling as she wondered how he knew where she’d been staying. Only he didn’t stop at her suite, guiding them further along to the last set of doors, the largest suite the Inn rented. She should’ve known he would’ve taken that one.

  “Keys,” she opened her mouth, closing it as he shook his head.

  His key slid into the ornate lock, turning until the click happened. Keys held his hand over his lips. “Stay right here.” He ushered them inside, placing her and Jaxson by the wall.

  A minute passed, then another while she was sure her nerves stretched to the point of snapping. Jaxson twisted his head around, baby drool wetting the front of her dress as he babbled. “Ssh, we gotta be quiet, little man.”