Royal Prick (A Stepbrother Romance #2)(3)

More pain filled my veins, a high starting to build in my bloodstream.

“Good!” I growled right in her face, before continuing, “Maybe I can destroy my father’s perfectly, perfect life, or maybe he has other kids that I can hurt. That I can taint with my bad behavior, or maybe even, destroy? A wife? A family.” The sinister smile I gave my mom caused her eyes to fill with terror; a look I had never seen her give me before.

I knew he had a family, and if I couldn’t hurt my mom, I would hurt them in whatever way possible. Had I been in my right mind, I might have regretted it or at least felt bad, but I didn’t and I sure as f*ck wasn’t the one who started this shit. There was a hollowed out part in my chest that had formed. It was filled with a hate for myself, and for the things that I had done, and the way I made her feel, but even I knew there was no other way around it. When my mind was set on something I did what I needed to.

I knew then that I had to get the f*ck out of this place. I needed to leave before I destroyed the whole bedroom or quite possibly the entire house at the rate I was going. Rage simmered just below the surface, and I knew I was on the verge of exploding even more; it was only a matter of time. I walked around her, as if she wasn’t standing right there, and headed straight toward my dingy closet. I needed to find a pair of shorts and a hoodie then get the f*ck out of here. The least I could do was end my last week or night here with my mom in the only way I knew how to; with a good fight.

“You’re not leaving this damn house, Royal! I refuse to watch you continue to destroy yourself.” My mother tried to make herself look big, tried to make her words fierce. The truth was nothing she said or did could stop me from falling into the deep abyss. I headed toward rock bottom the second she said I was my father’s problem now.

I ignored her as if she wasn’t even in the room as I pulled the dark gray hoodie on, having already slipped into the shorts. Then I grabbed my phone off the dresser and shoved it into the front pocket of my sweatshirt along with my keys and wallet.

“I am. It’s either this or something far worse that I know we will both end up regretting.” I raised an eyebrow up at her, challenging her to disagree or try and stop me. I needed out. I was a caged, rabid animal on the verge of biting, and I didn’t have a rabies shot.

“Royal,” she said my name in the most defeated way I had ever heard. I wanted to run to her and wrap my arms around her. I wanted to tell her everything would be okay—that I would be okay, but even I didn’t know the truth in that. Okay wasn’t something that I even understood; to be okay you had to understand what was going on inside of yourself. I was a lost cause. Despite her best effort at raising me, somehow I still turned out f*cked up.

“I love you, Mom,” I choked out the words as I opened my bedroom door. I stood there for a moment, hearing her soft cries resonate behind me. I wasn’t any better than my father. I wasn’t any better than anyone. I let that sink in as I headed down the stairs and out to my car a piece of shit Honda Civic. Not all of us had the luxury of nice things.

I fished my phone out of my pocket and called my friend Simon; he picked up on the second ring, a hello sounding on the other end of the line.

“I need a fight,” I growled the words as I started the car and put it in reverse, slamming on the gas pedal as I pulled out of the driveway. It backfired and then roared to life as soon as I put it in drive. I started down the road, heading toward the industrial park.

“Are you sure, dude? You just fought last night, and I’m pretty sure you have some type of concussion.” Simon tried to act like he was concerned for my health, but I knew the truth. He wasn’t, if he could put money on my fight and go home with some cash, he would.

I always won. It was the only thing I was good at. Throwing a fist and busting someone’s face open. I had to find a better hobby, but for now this one would do.

“Of course I’m f*cking sure; why else would I call you? Therefore I’ll be at the warehouse in ten minutes and there better be a fighting waiting for me.” I hung up the phone, letting the warning hang in the air. I was overcome with guilt. The guilt of what I was about to do. The guilt that I brought on my mom as she worried and wondered if it was her fault for me being this way.

No one understood the anger that was sparked deep inside of me. I smirked, realizing my father would soon understand the damage he caused by abandoning me and so would his perfect little family. I clenched the steering wheel in my hands. Oh they would all understand the kind of hell I could bring down on them.

That I would bring down on them.

I was Royal Black, and I was better at being an * than anything else.





Chapter Two


-Noelle



My mother warned me, or at the very least she tried to. She did so by showing me the most recent pictures of Royal, which just happened to be from the juvenile detention center that he was placed in for illegal underground fighting. The entire reason he was being sent to live with us in the first damn place.

“I want you to understand how dangerous he is, Noelle. He’s fighting kids for money. Clearly his mother isn’t taking very good care of him and that’s why he’s being sent here.” My mother’s words sent a shudder of fear down my spine. If she was taking this seriously then I should be too, right? It wasn’t everyday she talked to me about shit like this or even cared much for my well-being. As long as I played along in her perfect little life, maintaining good grades and making her look good in front of her and Dad's rich friends, she all but left me alone.