Royal Disaster #5 Read online

  Royal Disaster #5

  Renna Peak

  Ember Casey

  Casey Peak Publishing, LLC

  This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, locations or incidents are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Ember Casey and Renna Peak

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Edition: February, 2018

  Contents

  Royal Heartbreakers Reader Team

  1. Sophia

  2. Pax

  3. Sophia

  4. Pax

  5. Sophia

  6. Pax

  7. Sophia

  8. Pax

  9. Sophia

  10. Pax

  11. Sophia

  12. Pax

  13. Sophia

  14. Pax

  15. Sophia

  16. Pax

  17. Sophia

  18. Pax

  19. Sophia

  20. Pax

  21. Sophia

  22. Pax

  23. Sophia

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  Also by Renna Peak

  Also by Ember Casey

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  Sophia

  I’m sure I must have heard Pax wrong. I’ve patiently waited to learn his secret, and now that he’s told me, I can only think that I want to unlearn it.

  There’s no way what he’s said is true. There’s no way I could have married a murderer.

  Pax looks at me for a long moment. “That’s all I’m going to say about it.”

  “You just told me you killed someone. And that’s all you’re going to say about it?” I shake my head. “You can’t just drop something like that—”

  “You asked me. You wanted to know…” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  “How can I understand? Surely there’s a story behind what you’re telling me. It can’t be as simple as ‘I killed someone.’”

  His shoulders drop, and there’s something so broken about him, I’m not sure I should push any further.

  I take a step toward him, taking his hand in mine. “Please, Pax—”

  “I said I don’t want to talk about,” he snaps, yanking his hand away. “Just…never mind.” His brows draw together, and his gaze narrows. “You should probably go.”

  “And where am I supposed to go?” I tilt my head. “I’d much rather we talk about this—”

  “I’m not…” He shakes his head. “I don’t…” He takes another step backward, and I could swear his eyes fill with tears. “Please. Just give me some space.”

  “Okay. If that’s what you want.” I don’t even give him another glance. I turn on my heel and leave the hotel room.

  The thumping of music fills the hallway. I suppose I could go and join the party with Pax’s bandmates, but I don’t feel up to it at all. Victoria is staying here a few floors down, and that seems like the safest place for me at the moment.

  I walk over to the elevator and jab at the button to go down.

  “Hey.” A familiar voice comes from behind me. “Where’s Pax?”

  I turn to see one of the band members, Rider, approaching me.

  “He’s resting.” I turn back for the elevator, pressing again at the down button.

  “Yeah, you seem to tire him out pretty well.” The man stands beside me, pressing at the elevator button himself.

  I ignore the innuendo, silently praying for the elevator to arrive quickly.

  “He likes you. Haven’t seen him like this in a long time.” There’s a slight slur to his words, and it’s pretty apparent that the man is inebriated.

  “I like him, too.”

  “He doesn’t get like this anymore. Not since…” Rider chuckles. “Oops. Almost let the cat out of the bag.” He laughs again.

  I look up at Rider. “About Pax killing someone?”

  His smile falls as he seems to sober instantly. “You found out?”

  “He told me.” I turn back to face the closed doors.

  “He…told you?” The elevator dings and the doors slide open.

  I step inside, turning back to face Rider. “Yes, and thank you for confirming.” I touch the button for Victoria’s floor.

  Rider shakes his head, stepping onto the elevator beside me just as the doors close. “I can’t believe he told you about Kayla.”

  “Kayla,” I say the name under my breath. At least I know a little more now—perhaps enough to have Victoria help me fill in the blanks.

  “He actually said he killed her?” Rider shakes his head. “I mean, I know that’s probably what he thinks. But…shit.”

  “So he didn’t kill her?”

  His eyebrows draw together. “I’m under strict orders to never speak a word of anything to anyone. Ever. You know, except for when I tell one of the groupies…” He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “But he actually said he killed her?”

  I lift a brow, not really giving him an answer.

  “Fuck. I can’t believe he said that.”

  The elevator arrives at Victoria’s floor, and the doors slide open. I step off and turn back to face the man. “Have a good night, Rider. And if you see Pax…”

  The doors slide closed again before I have a chance to finish my message, which is just as well. I have no idea what I would want Rider to tell Pax, anyway.

  I knock on Victoria’s door, and she answers a few moments later.

  “Are you all right?” I ask her after the door opens.

  She gives me a slight nod, waving me inside. “Just tired. All these long distance flights are killing me.” She motions toward the sofa, but I hop onto the bed instead, patting the place beside me.

  Victoria sighs and crawls onto the bed next to me. “I’m not sure why I’m so tired.”

  “I’m sure I’m to blame.” I look over at my new sister. “I’m not exactly making life easy for anyone. Myself included.”

  She gives me a weak smile. “How was the concert?”

  “Amazing, as usual. He pulled me onstage with him tonight.”

  “I heard. It’s all over the internet.” Her smile widens. “You’re both doing a fantastic job selling the love angle. People are eating it up.”

  “Do you remember when I came to you and asked you to find out about his past?” My brow furrows. “I’m sorry to change the subject, but he said something tonight…”

  She frowns, searching my eyes. “He said what, exactly?”

  “He said…” I shake my head, not sure I should really be telling her this. “He told me he killed someone. And his bandmate, Rider, pretty much confirmed it in the elevator on my way down here.” I tilt my head. “You said there was nothing—nothing significant in Pax’s past. A murder would have shown up, right? It’s not like that’s something you can hide.”

  “We looked…” She pulls her laptop over from the table beside her and begins typing into it. “I had several people look. He has no criminal record. No record at all of anything. If he actually murdered someone—”

/>   “Her name was Kayla. That’s what Rider said, anyway.” I look over at what she’s typing. “Is there any way to look that up?”

  “Without a last name?” She frowns at the screen. “Unlikely. Even with an unusual name—”

  “What about in his town? The little town where he grew up? There couldn’t have been many Kaylas in that little place, right?”

  Victoria gives me a small shrug as she begins to type. Her eyes widen a moment later, and she turns the screen away from me so I can’t see it as she continues to read.

  “What is it?” I crane my neck to try to read what’s on the computer, but she turns it even more so I can’t read it.

  “I’m not sure yet, Sophia. I…I’ll need to look into it a little more. And I…I’m not sure what I should do with the information if this turns out to be true.”

  Fuck. I didn’t even think to tell her this was off the record. Not that I’m too concerned she’ll do anything to harm Pax or me particularly since he’s now a member of our family.

  “What is it?” I try to read her screen again, but she snaps the computer closed. My heart pounds loudly in my ears—if Pax was really involved in a murder, what am I supposed to do? “Just tell me what it is—”

  “I don’t know yet. All I know is there was a Kayla in his town. And like I said, I need to look into it more to figure out what happened.” Her frown deepens, and she reaches out and touches my hand.

  “Sophia, if Pax was really involved in this…” She shakes her head again. “You need to prepare yourself.”

  Pax

  I clean out the mini fridge, taking all the tiny bottles of alcohol and gulping them down one by one. How can I be so miserable when I thought I was so damn happy?

  I flop down on my back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Why is love so fucking complicated? I want to tell Sophia the full truth about what happened that night, but at the same time, she’s the absolute last person I want to know about any of this. Why couldn’t we have just gone on like before, having sex and being happy and not digging up every damn dark spot in our pasts?

  I rub my hands over my face. That’s not fair, either. Sophia has a lot going on right now—especially with her father’s health—and I know from experience that some things can’t stay buried forever, no matter how much I want them to.

  I shouldn’t have said anything to her. Even though I sing about that night at every show, it’s different when it’s in a song. Music has its own special power, capturing the moment but removing me from it, too. But talking about that night, especially talking about it with Sophia…it brings it all crashing back. I’m going to fucking puke. And I can’t close my eyes, because then all I see is Kayla’s face.

  With a groan, I roll over on the bed and reach for my suitcase on the floor, dragging it toward me. I pretty sure I have more alcohol stashed in there somewhere. Sure enough, I find an unopened bottle of whiskey underneath a pair of jeans. Exactly what I need.

  I spend the next half hour drinking myself into a stupor, trying to drown out my thoughts. It only moderately helps. I still see Kayla every time I close my eyes, still relive her last moments whenever I blink, but as the alcohol takes over my brain, I stop really giving a damn.

  My fingers fumble around for the television remote, and I flip on the TV. A cooking show appears on the screen, and when I can’t figure out how to change the channel, I just leave it on. Guess I’ll become an expert in how to make pasta primavera.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been watching when a knock sounds on the door.

  “Go away!” I shout at whoever’s out there. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. I want to watch this pretty lady make some fucking pasta and forget about everything else.

  The knock sounds again.

  “Go the fuck away!” I shout. I look around for something to throw at the door, then finally grab a pillow and chuck it. I miss by a mile, and the pillow hits the wall and falls to the floor with a soft thud.

  “Pax, open up,” comes a voice from the other side. It’s Mick.

  What the fuck is Mick doing at my door at this hour?

  “Go away!” I yell. “I’m sleeping.”

  “Pax, this is important,” Mick says. His voice is calm, but in that way that tells me he means business.

  With a groan, I haul myself off the bed and stumble toward the door. The room spins around me—this is the first time I’ve been on my feet since downing half that bottle of whiskey—but somehow I make it to the door without falling and breaking my neck. I get the door open on the second try.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I slur, leaning against the doorframe for support.

  Mick looks me up and down. “May I come in?”

  “Do whatever the hell you want,” I say, stumbling aside to let him through.

  He waits for me to make my way back to the bed. I sink down on the edge of the mattress—I’m not sure I trust myself to stand upright much longer. Mick doesn’t sit. He just crosses his arms and stares at me.

  “Rider came to see me,” he says finally.

  “Okay…” I say. “Why the fuck should I care?”

  “He said he ran into Sophia and she told him something interesting.”

  Sophia. I’d do anything to have her in my arms right now, to bury my face in her hair and breathe in the scent of her. Holding her makes the whole world fade away.

  “Are you listening, Pax?” Mick says. “He said you talked to her about Kayla.”

  Hearing him say that name jolts me out of my fantasies of Sophia. “I don’t want to fucking talk about her.”

  “I figured. Which is why I’m here.” He levels his gaze at me. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fucking fine.”

  “You don’t look ‘fucking fine.’”

  “I’m. Fucking. Fine.” It’s too much effort to even hold myself up in a seated position anymore, so I collapse back on the pillows. “Just go away, Mick. I don’t want to fucking talk about it.”

  I hear Mick move. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him grab the bottle of whiskey off the bed.

  “Hey, I’m not done with that,” I say.

  “I think you are.”

  I’m too exhausted to argue.

  “Take off your shoes,” Mick says a moment later.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Take off your shoes,” he repeats calmly. “And get in bed. The sooner you get some sleep, the better you’ll feel in the morning.”

  I feel like a kid with him ordering me around like this, but I know he’s right. It takes all my effort to sit upright enough to reach down to my feet, but somehow I manage it. As I do, I realize I don’t see Mick anywhere. He returns a moment later from the bathroom, two full glasses of water in his hands. He sets one on the nightstand and hands the other to me.

  “Drink,” he says.

  I do. It doesn’t help much.

  “Get under the covers,” he says. He grabs the remote, but I catch him by the wrist.

  “Leave the pretty pasta lady on.”

  “Okay,” Mick says, setting the remote on the nightstand next to the water.

  I climb beneath the comforter. It’s too hot, but I’m too brain-tired to care.

  “I shouldn’t have told her,” I mumble.

  “Sophia?”

  “I shouldn’t have told her about Kayla. It was better before.”

  “How did she react?”

  I yawn. “She didn’t understand. I made her leave.”

  “I’m sure you’ll work it out in the morning.”

  “I shouldn’t have told her.”

  I hear Mick shift something around on the nightstand, but my eyes are already closed and it’s too much effort to open them again.

  “She was going to learn sooner or later,” Mick says finally. “Better to get it out there. That girl loves you, Pax. I’m sure she’ll understand eventually.”

  “You think?”

  “I think what you two kids have
is the real deal. You’ll figure it out. Right now, though, I just want you to sleep. Big show tomorrow.”

  I think he says something else after that, but I pass out before the end of his sentence.

  Sophia

  Victoria is kind enough to offer to share her room, but I barely sleep. I can’t stop thinking about Pax. I suppose I shouldn’t have pressed the issue about the song—things could have gone on the way they were for a little longer. It was good before. Maybe not a real relationship—at least by the standards of anyone else—but it was good.

  When I see the hint of sunlight peeking beneath the curtains, I decide to make my way back up to Pax’s room. I don’t bother to knock—I fish in my bag for the keycard I took on my way out last night, and I slide it into the lock.

  I turn on a light as I walk in, making my way into the room. As I should have guessed, Pax is passed out face down on the bed, his arm hanging off the side.

  I slide under the covers next to him. “Pax.”

  He groans, turning his head away from me.

  “Pax.” I shake him by the shoulder. “Wake up.”

  “Bus leaves at noon,” he mumbles.

  “I know. And I’d like for us to talk before then.”

  He groans again, finally turning his head back toward me. His eyes are still squeezed shut, and he winces as though he’s in pain.

  “How much did you have to drink last night?”

  “Not enough.” He rubs his eyes for a moment before he squints at me. “Why does the light need to be on?”

  “Because some of us need light to see.” I tilt my head, looking down at him. “Do you need an aspirin?”