Broken Kingdom (Royal Hearts Academy #4)(120)

I drop my mouth to hers, enjoying the way her soft lips sweep against mine.

There’s still one more thing I have to tell her.

“I’m gonna be taking more shifts at the bar.”

Her forehead crinkles. “Why?”

“Because I’m no longer working for Loki…or rather, I won’t be after I give him the rest of my stash and tell him I’m out.”

I made the decision a couple days ago when I took Bianca for her road test. I was so proud of her when she passed, and it hit me how hard she’s worked to come this far. How strong she was for conquering her fears. It dawned on me what I could lose if I ever got caught and landed in the slammer.

Being a bartender at a sketchy bar won’t give me access to a lot of cash, but it’s better than dealing drugs.

Her smile is so bright it practically lights her up from the inside out. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck. Talking about this shit makes me feel like less of a man and I hate it. Bianca’s not the gold digger type, but she grew up rich and is accustomed to certain things. I hate not being able to give her what she wants. “But my money situation will be tight for a while. I won’t be able to take you anywhere fancy—”

“Are you kidding?” she interjects. “I don’t care about going anywhere fancy. As long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters to me.” She laughs. “You could be a janitor for the rest of your life for all I care. What you do for work doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Oh, hell. There she goes again. Tugging on the strings of the dead thing in my chest.

Rising on her tiptoes, she gives me another kiss. “I’m really proud of you for ending things with Loki. I know it wasn’t an easy decision.”

That’s the thing, it was an easy decision.

Once I realized I could lose her…it was like something in my head finally clicked.

Do I still struggle with my cravings for drugs? All the damn time.

Sometimes the urge is so strong—so consuming—I have to stand in a cold shower and scream my brains out so I don’t run off and snort something or drink my weight in whiskey. It’s a challenge I’ll always struggle with, and there are days I’m afraid I’ll screw up and give in.

But right now? I’m trying my hardest to take it one day at a time and not go down that dark path, because I don’t want to fuck this up.

I want to be a better man for her.

And for me.

“You’re late for school,” I remind her.

She gives me one last kiss. “See you later, handsome. Everything will go great today, you’ll see.”

When I grumble, she kisses my hand and whispers, “Just pretend I’m right there. Holding your hand the entire time.”





I’m not the type to get nervous. Usually when I walk in a room and spot someone I don’t fuck with, I ease the tension with a joke and keep it moving.

But not this time.

Because I loathe the woman standing in front of me.

The bitch who broke my heart into a million different pieces without a second thought.

Unfortunately, she’s the gatekeeper to my family.

“Hi.”

Crystal’s face screws up when she answers the door, like she smells something rotten. “Your dad’s still stuck in a meeting with a big client. He should be here soon.”

“Oh.” I take a step back. “I can come back lat—”

“No. He’s been dying to see you and he’ll be upset if I let you leave.” She opens the door wider. “Come in.”

It’s weird being invited into your childhood home.

I take a tentative step inside. “Thanks.”

Hands tucked into the pockets of my jeans, I follow her into the kitchen.

She buzzes around the open space like a busy bee and it’s obvious she’s on edge. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Juice?” Her eyes narrow. “Whiskey?”

I let that dig roll off my back. “I’m fine, thanks.”

We stare at each other for a beat.

Crystal’s always been attractive—just like my cousin Dylan, she’s just shy of too thin and has long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Giving birth did nothing to change that.

However, unlike Dylan, Crystal’s insides are ugly.

A weird twist goes through my chest when I realize there are no lingering feelings for the woman in front of me.

Well, other than resentment.

I was worried there might be, but I should have known better.

Bianca’s hold on me is airtight and nothing’s ever gonna fucking change that.

I open my mouth to ask where Clarissa Jasmine is, but then I hear it.

The sound of a baby crying.

Immediately, Crystal runs out of the kitchen and into the adjoining room. “Someone’s up from their nap.”

I flick my gaze to the playpen set up in the living room.

My heart does this weird stutter thing the moment Clarissa Jasmine’s blonde head pops up and I can’t help but wander over.

Reaching down, Crystal takes her out of the playpen and bounces her on her hip.

Innocent blue eyes peer up at me in wonder.

“Hey, Clarissa—” I stop myself because that name is a goddamn mouthful. Especially for someone so tiny. “C.J.”