Cracked Kingdom (The Royals #5)(87)

It’s Easton.

Ella and I lunge toward him, but it’s Callum who catches his son.

“My God, what have you done?” he howls to Steve.

Ella’s father tries to take a step but his knee folds underneath him. “No.” The declaration comes out on a hoarse shudder. “No,” he repeats.

“Call it in,” Callum orders to no one or everyone.

“I already called the ambulance for Mr. Wright,” Ella says quickly.

“Call them again!” Callum screams.

Terrified, Ella can’t move. I clench my fist and realize I have my dad’s phone in my hands. I dial emergency, but I don’t take my eyes off Steve. The gun’s still in his hand.

“What’s your emergency?”

“Gunshot wound to the stomach,” I babble. “Gunshot wound. Winwood Park.”

“Ma’am, there’s already an ambulance on the way to that location.”

“There’s an ambulance on the way,” I repeat, dropping the phone to the ground. I want to go to East but I’m afraid of Steve. He has a trapped look on his face. He’s already shot two people. I don’t think he’s going to stop there.

“Goddammit, Steve. Why?” Callum’s eyes are flooded with tears. His fingers are getting stained with the same dark red that mine are covered in. “I gave you that bag. You could’ve taken it and walked away.”

“I would’ve gone to jail. I can’t go to jail!” His eyes are wild, his voice shaking. “I just wanted to get rid of the Wrights. I knew you and I could work it out. I didn’t want this to happen. You have to believe me. I wouldn’t have ever hurt Easton. He’s my son.”

If I had any breath inside me, I’d have gasped.

“No,” Callum says, strong and loud. “In every way that matters, Easton is my son. He has always been my son.”

“He’s not,” Steve insists. “Maria and I, we were carrying on and off for a long time. She was lonely and I comforted her.”

“Do you think I’m a fool? I always knew. Of course I fucking knew.” Callum shakes his head. “Easton’s a carbon copy of you. Not in looks, but everything else.”

“He’s not your son,” Ella bursts out. She spears Callum with a glower. “Easton’s nothing like that…that…monster.”

Callum’s tone gentles. “You’re right, sweetheart,” he tells her. “East isn’t entirely like him. My boy has a heart. He cares, deeply, about others.” His gaze briefly flicks toward me before returning to Steve. “But the addictions, the rashness, the thoughtlessness he can’t always control, the mood swings. That’s all you, Steve.”

Rather than deny it, the other man nods.

“That’s why I never questioned Maria,” Callum says. “I loved Easton like he was my own, because he is mine. He’s my son. I don’t fucking care that you share the same DNA. He’s mine and you’re not going to take him from me.”

Sirens blare in the distance, growing louder as help gets closer. I swing my eyes toward the road in relief.

“They’re coming,” I say quietly.

Steve’s head comes up. He knows the walls are closing in.

I tense. Can I jump him? Can I kick the gun out of his hand? I have to do something. I’m not going to lose one more person without a fight. So I rise onto the balls of my feet and ready myself.

“Use me, Steve,” Callum pleads. “Take the money and take me hostage. We’ll get you out of here. Just leave my kids alone.”

“How did it come to this, Callum? How did our perfect lives come down to this shabby park and a bag full of money? We’re supposed to be kings. We’re Royals.” Then he barks out a horrible laugh. “No. You’re Royals. I’m just the hanger-on. I’m a shit friend. An even worse dad. I slept with my best friend’s wife. I let him raise my kid. I abandoned my other one. But I killed to protect you. I killed that woman to protect you.”

“I know you did,” Callum replies. He draws a shuddering breath. “I know you never meant any harm. That’s why I’m begging you to go and not do any more damage.”

Steve shakes his head. “I won’t last a day in jail. Not a day. Cover his eyes, Callum. I love you. I really do.”

He raises the gun to his temple, and before I can reach him, he pulls the trigger.

Ella screams.

Callum breaks down.

I collapse on the pavement next to Easton.

“We’re going make it through this,” I whisper to him. “I promise. I promise.”

I keep repeating that even as he’s strapped to a gurney, rolled into the ambulance and driven away. I repeat it to Ella, who grips my hand so tight that my fingers become numb. I say it all the way to the hospital, during the long wait through surgery, until he finally wakes up hours and hours later and grins at me with his crooked, devastating smile.

“We’re going to make it through this,” he says, laying his hand over mine. “I promise.”





Chapter 33





Hartley





“I feel like I live here,” Easton says crossly.

It’s only been three days since the surgery, yet the way this boy complains, you’d think it was four years ago. I’m so used to his grumblings that I don’t bother looking up from my textbook. “Good thing your name is on the building.”