Shattered Prince

I sat back on my knees. Oscar stood, smiling his obsequious little grin.

“Hello, Carmine,” he said. “Jules dropped her bag. Clumsy girl.” He laughed.

Carmine frowned at him and looked at me. His eyes glanced down to my lips—then down to the ground where half my things were still scattered.

Lying beneath my bio textbook was a small baggie of pills. Not my full stash, only what I carried on my person when I went to class. But it was still enough to make him suspicious, and he stared at it for several long seconds. My heart raced and I wondered if he knew what the pills were, or if he thought they were something else—Tylenol, allergy medication, something.

“Let me help you,” he said softly.

I grabbed the baggie and the book and shoved them into my backpack. “No, it’s okay, I got it.”

He knelt and helped me gathered the rest of the things. Oscar stood awkwardly watching. When we finished, Carmine helped me to my feet. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a little tired and I haven’t eaten in a few hours.” I gave him my best smile. The lies came so easily. I’d been practicing a long time.

A sudden urge hit me when he met my gaze. It was so overwhelming that I almost did it. I almost opened my mouth to tell him the truth. Oscar is blackmailing me. Please, god, help. I wanted to tell him everything, about the accident and what came after, but my leg hurt so badly and fear kept my mouth slammed shut. I thought of the kiss, and all the mistruths, and I knew I could never open up to him, not after all of this.

I was in too deep. I was buried, and I was drowning.

Carmine touched my arm. “Get something to eat. I have to go out for a while.” He glanced over at Oscar. “Why don’t you walk her to the elevator then head home?”

Relief flooded me.

Oscar nodded several times. “Happy to, boss. Give her some privacy so she can study.”

Carmine frowned slightly. “Yes, so she can study.” He looked back at me. “You’re working at the Lowdown tonight. I’ll pick you up.”

“Thanks,” I whispered.

He shrugged. “See you later, princess.” His fingers lingered on my arm before he turned and walked off. He got into a black Aston Martin and pulled out.

Oscar’s face fell as soon as Carmine was gone. “Clumsy bitch,” he mumbled. “Walk yourself to the elevators. And don’t forget what I said.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked away, but stopped a few feet off. “If you ever tell him what I’m doing, I will kill you. I will strangle you, and I’ll make your father think he did it. Do you hear me?”

“I understand,” I said, my throat tightening. I believed him. Oscar had done horrible things since I’d known him, and he’d do even worse if given the chance. The man had no conscience. He had no heart. He was a monster, a true beast. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I blinked them away. I wouldn’t let this destroy me. It couldn’t ruin me. Not now. I was so close to being something.

He nodded and left the parking structure up the ramp on foot.

I tossed my backpack over my shoulders and slowly headed to the apartment.

Chapter 8

Carmine

I stretched my legs at a metal table beneath an awning outside a fancy coffee shop in the heart of downtown San Antonio. Mal sat next to me with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the road like he wanted to stand up and start ripping out the pavement.

“Relax,” I said, sipping my espresso. “It’s a nice day out. Enjoy it.”

“It’s like ninety degrees,” he grunted.

“That’s nice for Texas. Staring like you want to murder someone won’t make them show any faster.”

“You know I don’t like this.”

“I’m aware.”

“So why are we doing it again?”

“Because we need to know our enemies, that’s why.”

I frowned at him and took a slow breath. Ever since he got together with Cap, he’d been much more vocal about questioning my decisions. At times, it was a good thing—I needed a number two that was willing to stand up and tell me I was being stupid.

But sometimes I just wanted him to shut the fuck up and smash whatever I told him to smash.

I knew that wasn’t fair. Mal and I went back a long way, and there was a part of me that yearned for the old days where I was the brains and he was the brawn. But life changed. My parents were dead and Mal was in love with Cap, and he wasn’t going to be a passive observer anymore. Not with skin in the game.

Love did that to a man. It made him want more from life. Pussy was one thing—but love? It meant a future. It meant a family. Mal wanted more for himself and for Cap, and he wasn’t going to sit back any longer. I was jealous of him in some ways. I wanted that same feeling. The drive for more.