Page 48 of Runaway Queen

Bran shrugged. “It’s a college town. An ice-hockey town at that. They’re probably used to guys who look hard as nails but are just regular jocks underneath. They can’t tell the difference.”

“Well, if someone tries to give me fruit leather instead of bacon, they’ll get a chance to see firsthand.”

Bran watched me with narrowed eyes. “You seem different today. Did you have fun with Sofia De Sanctis after chasing her around the school last night?”

I couldn’t stop my smirk when I thought about the night before. “What do you think?”

“Christ, man, you really can’t stay away.”

“It’s not your problem. It’s hers.”

“What if she goes to the cops?”

“She won’t.”

“How can you be sure?”

“She had her chance, and besides, it’s not in her nature. She’s a De Sanctis. She doesn’t trust the cops. She doesn’t trust anyone.”Except me, apparently.Her blind trust in me during our forest chase had kept me awake all night. How could she just give herself over to me to do my worst with? Didn’t she know what I’d become?

“To the world, Sofia De Sanctis is dead. That means I can do whatever the fuck I want to her, without repercussions. She’s mine to fuck with. If you don’t like that, you should go home. I’m sure your sister is looking for you.”

“Don’t be touchy. I won’t get in your way. She’s good for you.”

“In what way?”

Bran studied me. “Don’t knife me, but you seem… satisfied. I take it your dry spell has broken?” His smirk was absolutely filthy.

“A choice isn’t a dry spell. Anyway, I need to know more about what’s going on in Sofia’s life. Who is that Sloane fucker to her? Why is she always at the hospital? What about Angelo and Chiara? Do they have a kid?”

“That is a lot of questions. I can see there’s going to be homework for this trip,” Bran muttered. “I have one for you. Whose ring is it your girl wears?”

“No one’s. Well, not anymore anyway.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the band that nestled there. I laid it between us on the table.

Bran whistled. “You stole her ring?” He picked it up and turned it around in his grip before setting it down.

A little pink Post-it landed on our table just as our food came. The girl from before stood beside me. I glanced at the girlish writing and cell number for a second before picking it up. I flicked it over the patio, toward the ocean, as the girl standing beside me spluttered in disbelief.

“So rude!”

“As are you. I told you I’m married. Which part didn’t you hear?” I ground out and tossed my head toward the exit, my attention never leaving my plate. “Now get out of here before you put me in a bad mood.”

“You don’t have a ring on,” she pointed out, getting on my last nerve.

I pushed back from the table, threw my napkin down, and stood up to face her. She didn’t cower, I’d give her that. I towered over her, my annoyance radiating off me in waves.

“I don’t need a ring to remember that I’m not interested. Get the fuck away from me before I stop being nice.”

She blinked at me, once, twice, and then turned and hurried toward her waiting friends.

Sinking back into my chair, I picked up my fork.

Bran was quiet for a long moment before clearing his throat pointedly. “So, you wanna find out about Mr. Bigshot around town, Edward Sloane, or should I?”

“I will. You take Angelo. I don’t want him knowing I’m here yet.”

“You think Sofia won’t tell him?”

I shook my head. “She won’t risk it. She doesn’t want him hurt.”

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