Ruthless Princess (Mafia Royals 1)

I burst out laughing. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about the sex we’re not having, I mean have you seen how many scrunchies Breaker wears on his wrist?”

Sergio narrowed his eyes. “I thought that was just to piss Tex off.”

“Nah.” I laughed. “Go check out his Snapchat, man. So many girls, so many I’ve lost count. If he hasn’t slept through half of Eagle Elite by the time he graduates, it’ll be because it’s a choice.”

“Could have lived my whole life without the mental picture of nineteen-year-old Breaker naked and earning scrunchies instead of notches in his bedpost.”

“Oh, don’t worry man, he has those too.” I patted him on the shoulder.

“If Tex ever asks, this conversation never happened. He would shit a brick if that kid got someone pregnant.”

“He’s a fan of Trojan so I wouldn’t really worry about—”

“Yeah, I stopped listening at Trojan.”

“Smart man.” I nodded.

“The smartest,” he agreed with a slow grin. “You need help getting her to her room?”

“I got it; I might crash in one of the guest rooms, though. It’s late, and Trace makes better eggs than my mom.”

Sergio made a face. “It’s like she’s trying to poison people.”

“Thank you!” I threw my hands up. “She just tries so hard.”

“The food can tell. It revolts on purpose,” he teased, just as Dante walked into the kitchen like he’d just taken a pleasant stroll down the road.

He had recently showered, no blood, huge grin.

Man, the guy loved taking care of dead bodies, sick bastard.

“Things good?” Sergio asked.

“I enjoy the cement.” He cracked his knuckles. “Just had to update you guys on a few things. Everyone still in the basement?”

“Tex is home, but everyone else is here.”

“Good.” His eyes flashed for a minute, and then he glanced down at Serena. “Shit, that’s a lot of stitches.”

I winced. “It was necessary.”

“Doesn’t make it feel any better when you wake up screaming in pain.” He pointed out. “Serg, you ready?”

“Yeah.” They started talking in hushed tones, leaving me the task of carrying Serena to her bedroom upstairs.

I gently picked her up in my arms and walked up the steps, taking them one at a time, one foot in front of the other, until I finally made it into her large bedroom at the end of the hall.

I flicked the lights on and laid her on her bed and looked around for a T-shirt I could toss in her general direction.

“You look lost,” she mumbled, not opening her eyes. “I guess it has been a while.”

“Ah, the morphine’s talking. Great.” I finally settled on a plain white T-shirt and held it out to her. “Think you can move enough to put this on?”

She groaned and then opened an already swollen right eye to look at me. “I can barely see, what do you think?”

“I forgot how much fun you are when you’re high.”

Her smile was dopey as she lifted her arms for me to dress her.

Grumbling, I pulled what remained of the sweatshirt and her tank off her body, leaving her completely topless.

“Wait.” She slumped forward. “Shower, I have blood everywhere; I need to shower.”

I sighed in irritation. “Serena, you can barely keep your eyes open, you’d most likely drown standing up.”

“That’s why you’re here, friend.”

“Yeah, not your friend, and even if I were in that territory, I wouldn’t risk getting shot in your home just because the blood makes you woozy.”

“You’re helping me. She held up two fingers that Sergio had taped together, the swollen broken ones. “Two.” Had she even said one? “I really, really want to forget tonight, not just the blood, I just—please?”

I gritted my teeth. “It’s weird when you’re polite.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Decision made, I went over to her door, closed it, and then held out my hands. “All right, lets hurry and get you naked and washed.”

“So romantic.” She slumped forward and then winced when I tried to take off the remnants of her leather pants.

She was half-naked when I got them off her feet, and then I had the trying task of pulling off her lacy red underwear.

I cleared my throat and quickly tossed them aside, then lifted a girl I refused to stare at, into my arms again, and walked into the bathroom.

I placed her on her feet and then turned on the rain shower. She steadied herself against the wall while I made sure it was hot.

And then she stumbled into me, nearly sending me into the water with my clothes on.

With a curse, I shook my head. “You can’t do this alone at all, can you?”

“Not sure I can even hold soap right now.” Her lower lip trembled.

Shit. She rarely cried.

It was probably the drugs, the dead body, the circumstances… hell, take your pick.

“Don’t cry.” I hugged her tight.

“I still hate you.” She sniffed against my chest.