Broken Prince
Page 6
“What does she want?” Easton repeats angrily.
“Nothing,” I say again. Then I leave him and the twins in the living room and drag myself to my father’s study.
I don’t want to do this. I really, really don’t want to do this.
I knock on the door.
“What is it, Reed?”
“How did you know it’s me?” I ask as I push the door open.
“Because with Gideon gone, you’re the leader of your merry band of brothers.” Dad throws back his tumbler full of Scotch while reaching for a refill. And I wonder why I can’t get East off the bottle.
I heave a breath. “I think you should call Brooke.”
Dad halts in the middle of stoppering the Scotch.
Yeah, you heard me, old man. And trust me, I’m as shocked as you are.
When he doesn’t respond, I force myself to push forward. “When you bring Ella back, we’re gonna need help. We need someone to provide a buffer.” I gag on my next words. “A woman’s touch, I guess. Ella was tight with her mom. Maybe if Brooke had been around more before, Ella wouldn’t have left.”
My father frowns at me. “I thought you hated Brooke.”
“How many times do you want me to say I’m a dumbass?” I stretch a painful smile across my face.
He remains unconvinced. “She wants a ring and I’m not ready for that.”
Thank God. I guess the booze hasn’t erased all his good judgment.
“You don’t have to marry her. Just…” I lick my lips. This is effing hard, but I press on because I made this deal. I can’t have Brooke telling people that demon spawn is mine. “Just know it’s cool if you bring her back. I get it. We need people to care about. Who care about us.”
That much is true, at least. Ella’s love made me believe that I could be a better person.
“That’s generous of you,” Dad says dryly. “And hell, maybe you’re right.” He fingers the full glass. “We’ll find her, Reed.”
“I hope so.”
He gives me a tight smile and I back out of the room. As the door is closing, I hear him pick up the phone and say, “Brooke, it’s Callum. Got a minute?”
I quickly send her a text.
It’s done. Don’t tell him about the baby. It’ll just distract him.
She sends me back a thumbs-up emoji. The thin metal casing bites into my fingers as I clench my phone, fighting back the urge to throw it at the wall.
4
“Reed.” Valerie Carrington catches up to me on the back lawn, her chin-length hair blowing around in the crisp October wind. “Wait.”
I reluctantly stop, turning to find a pair of dark eyes blazing up at me. Val is pixie-sized, but she’s a commanding force. We could use someone with her bulldozer approach on our O-line.
“I’m late for practice,” I mutter.
“I don’t care.” She crosses her arms. “You need to stop playing games with me. If you don’t tell me what’s going on with Ella, I swear to God I’m calling the police.”
It’s been two days since Ella took off and we still have no word from the PI. Dad’s been forcing us to go to school as if everything is normal. He told the headmaster that Ella is home sick, which is the same thing I tell Val now. “She’s home sick.”
“Bull. Shit.”
“She is.”
“Then why can’t I see her? Why isn’t she texting or returning my calls? It’s not like she has cholera! It’s the flu—there’s a shot for that. And she should still be able to see her friends.”
“Callum pretty much has her quarantined,” I lie.
“I don’t believe you,” she says bluntly. “I think something’s wrong, like seriously wrong, and if you don’t tell me what it is, I’m going to kick you in the balls, Reed Royal.”
“She’s home sick,” I repeat. “She’s got the flu.”
Valerie’s jaw opens. Then closes. Then opens again to release an aggravated shriek. “You’re such a liar.”
She follows up on her threat, lunging forward to knee me in the balls.
Agonizing pain shoots through me. “Son of a bitch.” My eyes water as I cup my junk.
Valerie stalks off without another word.
A loud hoot sounds from behind me. Still gripping my aching nuts, I groan as Wade Carlisle sidles up to me.
“What’d you do to deserve that?” he asks with a grin. “Turn her down?”
“Something like that.”
He runs a hand through his messy blond hair. “You gonna be able to spot me, or should we go find some ice first?”
“I can spot you, asshole.”
We head for the gym—I hobble and Wade cackles like an old lady. The gym is reserved for the football team between three and six, which gives me three hours to work out until my body and mind completely shut down. And that’s exactly what I do. I lift until my arms ache, pushing myself into a state of pure exhaustion.
Later that night, I go into Ella’s room and lie on her bed. The scent of her skin grows fainter every time I enter. I know that’s my fault, too. East popped his head in last night and said the room stunk of me.
The house stinks, all right. Brooke has been here every night since Ella took off, her hands on Dad and her eyes on me. From time to time, her palm lingers over her stomach as a warning that if I step out of line, she’s going to bust out the pregnancy news. The baby must be Dad’s, which means it’s my half brother or sister, but I don’t know what to do with that or how to process it other than that Brooke’s here and Ella’s not—and that’s the perfect symbol for everything that’s wrong in my world.
The next day is more of the same.
I go through the motions, sitting in my classes without hearing a word the teachers say and then heading for the field to attend afternoon practice. Unfortunately it’s just a walk-through so I don’t get to hit anyone.
Tonight there’s a home game against Devlin High, whose offensive line breaks apart like a cheap toy after every snap. I’ll get to pummel their quarterback. I’ll get to play myself numb. And when I get home, hopefully I’ll be too drained to obsess over Ella.
Ella once asked me if I fought for money. I don’t. I fight because I enjoy it. I like the feel of my fist in someone’s face. I don’t even mind the pain that blooms when someone else lands a punch. It feels real. But I never needed it. Never really needed anything before she came along. Now I’m finding it hard to breathe without her next to me.
“Nothing,” I say again. Then I leave him and the twins in the living room and drag myself to my father’s study.
I don’t want to do this. I really, really don’t want to do this.
I knock on the door.
“What is it, Reed?”
“How did you know it’s me?” I ask as I push the door open.
“Because with Gideon gone, you’re the leader of your merry band of brothers.” Dad throws back his tumbler full of Scotch while reaching for a refill. And I wonder why I can’t get East off the bottle.
I heave a breath. “I think you should call Brooke.”
Dad halts in the middle of stoppering the Scotch.
Yeah, you heard me, old man. And trust me, I’m as shocked as you are.
When he doesn’t respond, I force myself to push forward. “When you bring Ella back, we’re gonna need help. We need someone to provide a buffer.” I gag on my next words. “A woman’s touch, I guess. Ella was tight with her mom. Maybe if Brooke had been around more before, Ella wouldn’t have left.”
My father frowns at me. “I thought you hated Brooke.”
“How many times do you want me to say I’m a dumbass?” I stretch a painful smile across my face.
He remains unconvinced. “She wants a ring and I’m not ready for that.”
Thank God. I guess the booze hasn’t erased all his good judgment.
“You don’t have to marry her. Just…” I lick my lips. This is effing hard, but I press on because I made this deal. I can’t have Brooke telling people that demon spawn is mine. “Just know it’s cool if you bring her back. I get it. We need people to care about. Who care about us.”
That much is true, at least. Ella’s love made me believe that I could be a better person.
“That’s generous of you,” Dad says dryly. “And hell, maybe you’re right.” He fingers the full glass. “We’ll find her, Reed.”
“I hope so.”
He gives me a tight smile and I back out of the room. As the door is closing, I hear him pick up the phone and say, “Brooke, it’s Callum. Got a minute?”
I quickly send her a text.
It’s done. Don’t tell him about the baby. It’ll just distract him.
She sends me back a thumbs-up emoji. The thin metal casing bites into my fingers as I clench my phone, fighting back the urge to throw it at the wall.
4
“Reed.” Valerie Carrington catches up to me on the back lawn, her chin-length hair blowing around in the crisp October wind. “Wait.”
I reluctantly stop, turning to find a pair of dark eyes blazing up at me. Val is pixie-sized, but she’s a commanding force. We could use someone with her bulldozer approach on our O-line.
“I’m late for practice,” I mutter.
“I don’t care.” She crosses her arms. “You need to stop playing games with me. If you don’t tell me what’s going on with Ella, I swear to God I’m calling the police.”
It’s been two days since Ella took off and we still have no word from the PI. Dad’s been forcing us to go to school as if everything is normal. He told the headmaster that Ella is home sick, which is the same thing I tell Val now. “She’s home sick.”
“Bull. Shit.”
“She is.”
“Then why can’t I see her? Why isn’t she texting or returning my calls? It’s not like she has cholera! It’s the flu—there’s a shot for that. And she should still be able to see her friends.”
“Callum pretty much has her quarantined,” I lie.
“I don’t believe you,” she says bluntly. “I think something’s wrong, like seriously wrong, and if you don’t tell me what it is, I’m going to kick you in the balls, Reed Royal.”
“She’s home sick,” I repeat. “She’s got the flu.”
Valerie’s jaw opens. Then closes. Then opens again to release an aggravated shriek. “You’re such a liar.”
She follows up on her threat, lunging forward to knee me in the balls.
Agonizing pain shoots through me. “Son of a bitch.” My eyes water as I cup my junk.
Valerie stalks off without another word.
A loud hoot sounds from behind me. Still gripping my aching nuts, I groan as Wade Carlisle sidles up to me.
“What’d you do to deserve that?” he asks with a grin. “Turn her down?”
“Something like that.”
He runs a hand through his messy blond hair. “You gonna be able to spot me, or should we go find some ice first?”
“I can spot you, asshole.”
We head for the gym—I hobble and Wade cackles like an old lady. The gym is reserved for the football team between three and six, which gives me three hours to work out until my body and mind completely shut down. And that’s exactly what I do. I lift until my arms ache, pushing myself into a state of pure exhaustion.
Later that night, I go into Ella’s room and lie on her bed. The scent of her skin grows fainter every time I enter. I know that’s my fault, too. East popped his head in last night and said the room stunk of me.
The house stinks, all right. Brooke has been here every night since Ella took off, her hands on Dad and her eyes on me. From time to time, her palm lingers over her stomach as a warning that if I step out of line, she’s going to bust out the pregnancy news. The baby must be Dad’s, which means it’s my half brother or sister, but I don’t know what to do with that or how to process it other than that Brooke’s here and Ella’s not—and that’s the perfect symbol for everything that’s wrong in my world.
The next day is more of the same.
I go through the motions, sitting in my classes without hearing a word the teachers say and then heading for the field to attend afternoon practice. Unfortunately it’s just a walk-through so I don’t get to hit anyone.
Tonight there’s a home game against Devlin High, whose offensive line breaks apart like a cheap toy after every snap. I’ll get to pummel their quarterback. I’ll get to play myself numb. And when I get home, hopefully I’ll be too drained to obsess over Ella.
Ella once asked me if I fought for money. I don’t. I fight because I enjoy it. I like the feel of my fist in someone’s face. I don’t even mind the pain that blooms when someone else lands a punch. It feels real. But I never needed it. Never really needed anything before she came along. Now I’m finding it hard to breathe without her next to me.
