Twisted Palace (The Royals #3)

“I can’t just sit around.” I stomp over to the window and yank the curtains open. Housekeeping always shuts them for some stupid reason.

Reed sighs. “Look, I know. I know it’s tough for you. But you just gotta accept that this is the right thing for all of us. If I accept the plea deal, it goes away. Instead of a year of uncertainty and then a few more years of appeals with all our dirty laundry parading across the front page, we get it over and done with.” More quietly, he adds, “It’s not gonna last that long.”

Tears well up in my eyes. “It’s not right. And I don’t want you gone for even a day.”

“I know, baby.”

But does he? There’s aloofness in his voice, as if he’s already putting distance between us. A little desperately, I say, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His voice is rough and low and gravelly. “Let’s not fight. Let’s try to put this aside and enjoy the time that I’m still here. Before you know it, I’ll be back.” He pauses. “It’s going to be okay.”

But I just don’t believe him.



* * *



The next day, I try to act as if nothing awful is happening in our lives. As if Reed didn’t just announce he’s going to prison for a minimum of five years. As if my heart isn’t breaking every time I look at him.

He’s right in one sense. If we spend the next five weeks or so dwelling on the horrible future, he might as well start his sentence today.

So I go through the motions at school, acting like nothing’s wrong, but by the time the final bell rings, I’m exhausted from all that pretending and more than ready to go home.

I’m halfway across the parking lot when a sharp voice calls my name.

Instantly, I go stiffer than a board. Great. Jordan.

“We need to talk,” she says from about ten yards away.

I try to get the car door open, but Jordan’s at my side before I can escape. I turn around with a sigh. “What do you want?”

An evil gleam lights her gaze. “I’m calling in the favor.”

Every muscle in my body coils tight. Crap. I was really, really hoping she’d forget all about that. But I should’ve known better than to think that Jordan Carrington forgets anything, especially when it’s to her advantage.

“All right.” I fake a smile. “So who am I duct-taping to the school doors?”

She rolls her eyes. “Like I’d get an amateur to do my dirty work.” With a wave of her manicured hand, she says, “I think you’re going to like this favor, actually. It requires almost little effort on your part.”

Suspicion trickles down my spine. “What do you want?” I repeat.

Jordan gives me a big, broad smile. “Reed Royal.”





29





Ella





It takes a few seconds for Jordan’s words to sink in. Once they do, I can’t stop a loud burst of laughter. She wants Reed? Um, yeah. Not happening, bitch.

“I’m not sure what that even means, but either way, Reed’s not on the table,” I say cheerfully. “So you should probably come up with something else.”

She cocks a brow. “It’s this or nothing.”

I grin. “Then I pick nothing.”

Jordan laughs at that. Or maybe she’s just laughing at me. “Sorry, did I say nothing? I meant, if you don’t uphold your end of the bargain, then ‘nothing’ is what your social life will be. As in, I’ll tell your father all about how you lied to him about the dance team so you could bang your boyfriend at a hotel. I’m pretty sure you’ll be grounded for life after he finds out.” She bats her eyelashes. “Or maybe he’ll pick up and move you to another state. Actually, maybe I’ll recommend that to him. I’ll even give him some brochures for really good prep schools upstate.”

Damn her. That’s totally something Steve would do, force me to transfer schools. If he finds out I lied about the away game and spent the night with Reed, he’ll lose his shit.

“So,” she says, her smile returning. “Should I tell you the details?”

“What do you want with Reed?” I ask through clenched teeth.

“I want him to take me to Winter Formal.”

My jaw falls open. Is she freaking serious?

Jordan rolls her eyes at my shock. “What? It’s not like you can go with him, unless your dad is suddenly on board with you dating a killer?”

I stare at her. “What happened to your whole speech about you not wanting to be with a killer?”

She shrugs. “I changed my mind.”

“Yeah? And why’s that?” I mutter.

“Because Reed’s star has never shone brighter.” She flips her dark, glossy hair over one shoulder. “When he was first arrested, his social status plummeted, but now he’s all these pathetic chicks can talk about. Unlike your trashy ass, the social hierarchy matters to me.” She shrugs again. “I want to go to the formal with Reed. That’s the favor.”

A disbelieving laugh pops out. “I’m not lending you my boyfriend for a night!”