Broken Kingdom (Royal Hearts Academy #4)(9)

I’m not sure what to make of his expression. “You’ve been seizure-free for a year now.”

“And?”

He huffs out a breath. “You still have sixty days left on your probationary period before they reinstate your driver’s license, but we can apply for a hardship license so you can travel back and forth to work.”

“Not interested,” I quickly tell him.

I have no intention of getting behind the wheel again.

Because the last time I drove…

I killed someone.

He heaves an exasperated sigh. “If you get this job, you’re going to need a reliable form of transportation.”

“I’ll take the bus.”

I take them to my AA meetings every day, I see no reason I can’t take one to and from work.

“What happens if you miss one, wake up late one morning, or they stop running for whatever reason?”

I guzzle my bottle of water and stand. “I’ll wait for the next one.”

“What if you have to work a night shift? Buses don’t run past seven in this town.”

Shit. He has a point.

“I’ll walk.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s ten miles one way.”

I shrug. “I’ll take an Uber.”

“You’re barely going to be making enough to pay for your rent and food. Taking an Uber twice a day is expensive.” He folds his arms across his chest. “I know you’re scared. I get it. But there has to be some kind of compromise—”

“Compromise? Hayley’s dead, Dad.”

“I know,” he says softly. “And as terrible as that is, you can’t keep punishing yourself because you made a mistake. Your life still goes on.”

He doesn’t get it.

Then again, how can I expect him to?

He’s not the one who killed someone.

“Dad—”

“Goddammit.” His nostrils flare on an inhale. “I haven’t asked you for a damn thing since you’ve been out. But, I need you to do this. If not for yourself, then for me.”

“Why? Why is me driving so important to you?”

“Because I don’t want you to keep punishing yourself,” he screams. “Hayley died that day…but so did you.”

He’s not wrong.

The party stopped the day I became a murderer.

The Oakley who used to joke, smoke, and fuck his problems away while living life to the fullest is long gone.

In his place is a man drowning in remorse.

Because it’s what I deserve.

That said—my dad’s right. He hasn’t asked me for much…or anything, for that matter.

However, the thought of getting behind the wheel of a car again isn’t something I can get down with.

Agitated, I scrub a hand down my face. “Can we shelf this conversation for now so I can nail this interview and get a job?”

I can tell the lawyer in him wants to argue some more, but the father in him drops it. “Fine.”





“Hi.” I stick out my hand. “I’m Oakley. Wayne Zelenka’s son. I’m here for the interview.”

The older man—who doesn’t even bother introducing himself, or shaking my hand—motions for me to follow him into an office marked maintenance. “You know how to use a mop?”

“I think I can manage.”

He throws a dark gray jumpsuit at me. “Put this on. I’ll get you a fancy name badge next week.”

I blink. “Does this mean I got the job?”

“That depends.” He sticks a toothpick in his mouth. “Can you start today?”

Does a bear shit in the woods?

“Yeah.”

He shoves a mop into my hands. “Your shift ends at eight, but you can take your lunch break at three-thirty.” He narrows his eyes. “I have two rules, kid.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t steal from me and don’t show up late.”

I start putting on my jumpsuit. “Got it.”





Chapter 4





Bianca





“Hey, you.” Stone greets me when I spot him outside my classroom.

Last semester we had the same break in classes so we could have lunch together, but this semester our schedules are completely opposite, so all we have are a few measly minutes to catch up before I grab lunch by myself and he heads off to another class.

Rising on my tiptoes, I give him a quick peck on the lips. “How is your day going so far?”

“Good.” Wrapping an arm around my waist, he pulls me in for another kiss. “Excited to pick out a wedding dress later?”

Guilt punches me in the gut, but there’s no way I can tell him about the memory that prompted my sudden case of cold feet without him getting offended and flipping out.

So, I lie to spare his feelings.

And an argument.

“About that.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “The bridal boutique called me earlier and said they accidentally overbooked. The earliest they can get me in now is February twenty-fifth.”

“No big deal. We’re not getting married until August, so you still have plenty of time to pick out a dress.” Glancing at his watch, he mutters a curse. “Hate to cut this short, Bourne, but I gotta go. I’m late for class.”