Broken Prince: A Novel (The Royals Book 2)

  I know my eyes are big as saucers, and I can’t help but ask, “Um, are you really going to murder Daniel?”

  “Damn, Dad, that was badass.”

  “Thank you, son.” Callum smirks. “I still have my balls no matter what you boys think. And, Ella, no, I’m not murdering Daniel. The military can save kids. It can also turn bad kids into worse ones. If my friends think he’s not salvageable, then there are other options. None of which I’m discussing with either of you.”

  Okay then.

  When we get home, Easton gallops up the stairs to fill the twins in, while Callum disappears into his office to call Gideon and let him know what happened. I stand in the foyer, remembering the first night I stepped into this house. It was late, almost as late as tonight.

  The boys were lined up against the upper railing of the split staircase, looking unhappy and unwelcoming. I was scared of them. But now? I’m scared for them.

  Callum’s changing. His actions tonight and of the past few weeks have been so much more involved than when I first came. But he’s going to undo all that good if he marries Brooke. His sons will never fully trust him as long as he’s with that awful woman. Why can’t he see that?

  If Callum was smart, he’d send Brooke away with Daniel to this special military place. But for some reason, he’s so blind when it comes to Brooke.

  I chew on the inside of my cheek. What if Callum knew the truth? If he knew about Reed and Brooke…would he still marry her?

  There’s only one way to find out…

  If Reed were here, he wouldn’t want me to follow Callum to his office, but I’m making an executive decision. I know he’ll be furious when he discovers what I’ve done, but someone needs to get through to his father, and unfortunately, I think that someone has to be me.

  I knock quietly. “Callum, it’s Ella.”

  “Come in,” is the gruff reply.

  I walk into this study. It’s very manly in here, with dark cherry wood paneling on the walls, burgundy leather seating, and forest-green drapes framing the windows.

  Callum, of course, has a drink in his hand. I give him a pass. If there was ever a night for drinking, it would be tonight.

  “Thank you for taking care of the Daniel thing,” I say.

  “I promised you when I brought you here that I would do anything for you. That includes keeping you safe from people like Delacorte. I should’ve had him sent away long ago.”

  “I really appreciate that.” I wander along the rows of books. In the center of the bookcases is another big picture of Maria. “Maria was beautiful.” I hesitate before adding, “The boys really miss her.”

  He swirls the liquid in his glass a few times before answering. “We haven’t been the same since she left us.”

  I take a deep breath, knowing I’m about to overstep a whole lot of boundaries. “Callum…about Brooke…” I exhale in a rush. “It’s the twenty-first century. You don’t have to marry a girl because she’s pregnant.”

  A sharp laugh escapes. “Yes, I do. You see…”

  “I see what?” I’m so frustrated. I want to leap forward and knock that stupid glass out of his hand. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  He watches me over the brim.

  “Dammit, Callum. Will you please talk to me?”

  Nearly a minute passes before he heaves a massive, soul-sucking sigh. “Sit down, Ella.”

  My legs feel wobbly enough that I don’t argue. I sink into the chair across from his and wait for him to shed any glimpse of insight about this awful compulsion he has for Brooke.

  “Brooke appeared at the perfect time in my life,” he admits. “I was mired in grief, and I used her body to forget. And then…it was simpler to keep using her.” Regret is woven into his every word. “She didn’t care that I slept around. She encouraged it, actually. We’d go out and she’d point to different women she thought I would enjoy. It required no emotional investment and I liked that. But at some point she wanted more than I could give. I’m never going to find another Maria. Brooke doesn’t inspire anything in me but lust.”

  I stare at him in disbelief. “Then let her go. You can still be a dad to this kid.” Hell, Brooke would sell the baby if the price was right.

  Callum continues as if I’m not even there. “Maybe with Brooke as my wife, I can control her. I can bind her with contractual promises. She doesn’t want to live in Bayview. She wants something bigger. A life in Paris, Milan, LA, somewhere she can rub elbows with actors, models, athletes. If I can get her away from my boys, it’ll be worth it.”

  “You’re not getting her away from your boys. You’re shoving her even closer in their faces!” Why can’t this man see reason?

  “We’ll be on the west coast. Or abroad. The boys will be fine here on their own until they finish high school. I’ll make every effort to keep her away from them. Especially Reed.”

  I frown. “What do you mean?”

  His next words make my blood run cold. “The baby is most likely his, Ella.”

  I’m lucky to be sitting down. If I wasn’t, I would have keeled right over.

  I came in here to confess about Reed and Brooke, but Callum, the man I thought was oblivious, already knew that his son slept with his girlfriend?

  I must be revealing something on my face, because his blue eyes sharpen. “You knew,” he says thoughtfully.

  I give a shaky nod. It takes a moment to find my voice. “You knew?”

  A humorless chuckle leaves his lips. “When Brooke came to me with the news she was pregnant, I said the same thing you just did. That she could have the baby and I would support her. That’s when she told me she slept with Reed and that the baby could be his.”

  Nausea tickles my throat. “Wh-when did she say it happened? Her and Reed…?”

  Reed promised me that he hasn’t touched Brooke since he kissed me, but he’s never been specific about when they stopped sleeping together. And I haven’t been brave or stupid enough to push for details.

  Callum drains the rest of his glass and stands up to pour himself another. “Before you came, I assume. I know Reed. He wouldn’t have laid a hand on you if he was still with Brooke.”

  My hand flies to my throat. “You know about us?”

  “I’m not entirely blind, Ella, and you two aren’t terribly careful. I thought…it might be good for both of you. Reed being with someone his own age and you having someone special in your life. I didn’t know before you ran,” he concedes. “But I figured it out after.”

  “Why didn’t you figure out what Brooke was up to? Why didn’t you protect your son from her?”

  My accusatory tone brings a cloud of anger to his eyes. “I’m protecting him now! You think I want my boy to be tied to her for the rest of his life? Better that I raise this baby as my own and let Reed live the life he deserves.”

  “There’s no way it’s his, Callum. The last time he was with her was six months ago, and she’s not six months pregnant.”

  Unless Reed lied to me about what happened in his bedroom last month…

  But no. No. I refuse to believe it. I gave him another chance because I trust him. If he says he didn’t touch her that night, then he didn’t touch her.

  Callum looks at me as if I’m a child, a foolish, stupid child. “It has to be his, Ella.”

  “How do you know it’s not yours?” I challenge.

  He smiles sadly. “I had a vasectomy fifteen years ago.”

  I swallow hard. “Oh.”

  “Maria desperately wanted a girl,” Callum confesses. “We kept trying, but after she had the twins, her doctor told her no more. That another pregnancy might kill her. She refused to accept it, so…I got a vasectomy and never told her about it.” He shakes his head in misery. “I can’t be the father of Brooke’s baby, but I can take responsibility for the child. If Reed is dragged into this, there’ll be a bond between him and Brooke forever, a bond of guilt and grief and responsibility. I won’t let that happen. My son might hate me enough to
make a play for my girlfriend, but I love him enough to spare him a life of misery.”

  “How far along is she?” I ask.

  “Three and a half months.”

  I curl my fists in frustration, wanting somehow to get it through Callum’s brain that the assumptions he’s made are wrong. “I believe Reed when he says he hasn’t touched her in six months.”

  Callum just stares at me.

  “I believe him,” I insist. “And I wish you would, too. Just because you wouldn’t cheat on Maria, and Reed wouldn’t cheat on me, doesn’t mean that Brooke’s the same way.”

  “Brooke wants to be a Royal too badly to take that chance. I caught her sabotaging her birth control once.”

  I rub my face in my hands, because he’s clearly made his mind up. “You can believe what you want, but you’re wrong.” I rise from my chair, shoulders slumped in defeat. At the door, I stop and give one last try. “Reed wants you to get a paternity test. He’d force it on Brooke if he could.”

  Callum looks startled. “He’d take the test and risk being officially named the father?”

  “No, he’d take the test so the truth could come out.” I meet his eyes. “She’s lying to you. It’s not Reed’s kid, and if you trust your son even the slightest bit, you would force Brooke’s hand and make this whole stupid mess go away.”

  I start to leave, but Callum holds up his hand. “Wait.”

  Frowning, I watch as he reaches for the handset and dials a number. Whoever he calls picks up right away.

  “Dottie,” he booms into the mouthpiece. “When you get in the office this morning, make an appointment for Ms. Davidson at the Bayview OBGYN for Friday, nine a.m. sharp. And send a car for her.”

  A smile spreads across my face. Maybe I did get through to him.

  Callum hangs up and fixes me with a worried look. Then he sighs and says, “I hope to hell you’re right about this, Ella.”

  32

  Reed

  Ella has refused to leave my side since I got back from the hospital. Which is completely unnecessary. The painkillers are doing their job for the most part. As long as I don’t move, the worst discomfort is that the row of stitches kind of itch. The doctors told me not to scratch them, or risk tearing them open, so I’m trying to distract myself by watching Sawyer and Sebastian toss Lauren around in the pool like she’s a beach ball.

  It’s not really a nice enough evening for swimming, but our pool’s heated and Lauren’s got the twins to keep her warm, too. Ella and I are curled up together on a lounger, while Easton is texting on his phone in the chair next to us.

  “Wade wants to know if you’re gonna have a cool scar,” East says absently.

  Ella grumbles loudly. “Tell Wade to stop thinking about stupid shit and just be grateful that his best friend is alive.”

  I snicker.

  “I’m quoting you on that, sis.” East types something, waits, then starts to laugh. “Wade wants to know if you yell at Reed like that when you’re boning.”

  “Is there a middle finger emoji?” she asks sweetly. “If so, send him that.”

  I stroke my fingers through her soft hair, enjoying the feel of her body tucked at my side. She’ll never know how fucking terrified I was last night—not for my own safety, but for hers. When that hooded guy popped out of the shadows, my first and only thought had been to protect my girl. I don’t even remember the knife slicing into my gut. I just remember pushing Ella to the side and heaving myself in front of her.

  Christ. What if Daniel had sent someone after her instead of me? What if she’d gotten seriously hurt?

  “Reed?” she murmurs in concern.

  “Mmmm?”

  “You got really tense all of a sudden. Are you okay?” She sits up instantly. “Do you need another painkiller?”

  “I’m fine. I was just thinking about Delacorte and what a psycho he is.”

  “Truth,” East says darkly. “I hope he gets the shit kicked out of him in that military prison.”

  Ella sighs. “It’s not a prison. It’s an academy for troubled youths.”

  “Troubled youth?” East snorts. “That asshole is more than troubled. He put a hit out on my brother.”

  “You really think Hoodie Guy was trying to kill Reed? What if he comes back and tries again?” She sounds seriously upset now, and I flash Easton a hard look.

  “Nobody was trying to kill me,” I assure her. “Otherwise he would’ve just gone for my neck and slashed.”

  A shudder goes through Ella’s body. “Oh my God, Reed! Why would you even say that?”

  “Sorry. That was stupid.” I pull her toward me again. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. Daniel’s gone. And he gave the cops Hoodie Guy’s name, so they’ll track him down in no time, okay?”

  “Okay,” she echoes, but she doesn’t sound convinced.

  A high-pitched shriek from the pool has us turning our heads toward the shallow end, where Seb is attempting to undo the strings of Lauren’s bikini.

  “Sebastian Royal! Don’t you dare!” But she’s sputtering with laughter as she tries to swim away from my little brother.

  Sawyer swims up behind her and hauls her into his arms, and the Lauren beach-ball toss starts up again.

  East leans over his chair and lowers his voice. “How do you think it works?”

  Ella narrows her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Lauren and the twins. Think it’s a two-on-one sorta thing, or one at a time?”

  “I honestly don’t want to know,” Ella says frankly.

  Neither do I. I’ve never questioned Seb and Sawyer about their relationships. Lauren is Sawyer’s girlfriend in the eyes of the outside world, but I have no clue what goes on behind closed doors.

  Footsteps sound behind us, and I tense up again when my father appears on the deck. “Reed. How are you doing?”

  “All good,” I answer without looking at him.

  An uncomfortable silence settles over the deck. I haven’t been able to look my dad in the eye since Ella told me that she’d talked to him. She was shame-faced and nervous when she came to the hospital this morning, and the confession poured out of her while I sat there fighting equal doses of guilt and amazement.

  My dad knows about Brooke. And me. According to Ella, he’s known for weeks—and he didn’t say a word to me about it. I guess that’s the Royal way, though. Avoid the tough shit. Don’t talk about your feelings. And a part of me is grateful for that. I don’t know how I’ll react if Dad brings it up to me. He hasn’t yet, but Ella told me about the paternity test he scheduled, so sooner or later he’ll have to say something, right?

  That’s going to be one awkward conversation. I’m happy to postpone it for as long as possible.

  Dad clears his throat. “You kids finishing up soon?” He glances at the pool and then the loungers. “I thought we’d all go out to dinner. The jet’s all fueled up and ready when we are.”

  “The jet?” In the shallow end, Lauren’s eyes grow larger than saucers. “Where are we going?”

  Callum smiles at her. “D.C. I thought it’d be a nice treat for everyone.” He turns to Ella. “Have you ever been to D.C.?”

  She shakes her head. And from the pool, I hear Lauren hiss to the twins, “Who flies to another state for dinner?”

  “The Royals,” Sawyer murmurs back.

  “I don’t think I’m up for that,” I admit. My tone is grudging because I hate revealing weakness, but the painkillers are wearing off. The thought of getting up and flying somewhere doesn’t appeal to me at all. “You guys can go ahead, though. I’m cool staying behind.”

  “I’m staying behind, too,” Ella says immediately.

  I touch her knee, and I don’t miss the way Dad’s gaze tracks the movement of my hand. “No, go with them,” I say gruffly. “You’ve been glued to my side since seven in the morning. You need a change of scenery.”

  She doesn’t look happy. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “Ah, he’ll be fine
,” East says. He’s already hopping off his chair, which doesn’t surprise me. I’ve noticed him getting stir crazy all day. Easton’s not cut out for sitting around and doing nothing.

  “Go,” I urge Ella. “You’ll love D.C., trust me.”

  “Come on, little sis, we’ll get to see the Washington Monument from the air,” Easton says coaxingly. “It looks like a huge dick.”

  “Easton,” Callum chides.

  Eventually we manage to wear her down, and everyone scatters to get changed for dinner. I move from the lounger to the couch in the game room, which is where Ella finds me twenty minutes later.

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay here by yourself?” She bites her lip in dismay.

  I hold up the remote. “I’m fine, babe. Just gonna watch a game and then take a nap or something.”

  She comes over and gives me a soft kiss on the lips. “Promise to call me if you need anything? I’ll force Callum to fly us right back.”

  “I promise,” I answer, mostly just to humor her.

  After another kiss, she leaves. I hear footsteps and voices in the foyer, and then the noise dies off and the house becomes as quiet as a tomb.

  I stretch out on the couch and focus on the screen, watching as Carolina scores touchdown after touchdown on the inept New Orleans defense. As much as I like seeing my team winning, it’s just a reminder that I’m going to miss at least two playoffs game with the Riders and that bums me out.

  Sighing, I turn the TV off and decide to take a nap, but my phone rings before I can close my eyes.

  It’s Brooke.

  Shit.

  Since I know she’ll send a barrage of text messages if I don’t pick up, I press the talk button and mutter, “What do you want?”