Page 45 of The Wanted Prince

“Forget him,” said Dom. “Thinks he’s better than us?”

I blinked the vision away, but my head kept on spinning. I leaned on a table, catching my breath. Laura squinted up at me.

“You should sleep first.”

“Too late.” I held up my phone. “Carlo texted already. I need to go.”

“I’ll come with you.” She sat up, but I waved her back.

“No, it’s too dangerous. This could be a setup. You just stay here and keep an eye on your phone, and if my name hits your news alerts, get out. Go home.” I bent down and brushed her dark hair off her face, and kissed her smooth forehead, then her cheeks, then her lips. “I’ll be okay. And if I’m not… I’ll look you up, won’t I, when I get out of jail?”

Laura gripped my jacket. “Don’t joke like that.” She kissed me again, then hugged me tight. I could feel her heart pounding in time with my own.

“I’ll be fine,” I said again. “I trust my brothers.”

“They’d better deserve it. If they don’t, if they don’t…” Laura choked, half a sob, and pressed her face to my neck. “Look, I know these last few weeks haven’t been easy. You’ve faced up to all these people you’ve hurt, and all the ways you’ve let them down as a friend. But you first had to be a friend, to disappoint them. You messed up, but who hasn’t? You’re making it right.”

I made a low rasping sound, my throat gone tight. Laura ran her fingers through my tangled hair.

“You’re a good person,” she said. “Your brothers know that.”

I clung to her, wanting that to be true. “Promise you’ll go,” I said. “If this turns sour.”

“I’ll go,” she said, but I didn’t believe her.

“Don’t try to fight for me.”

“I promise I won’t.”

I kissed her one more time and stood up, knees popping. My whole body felt stiff from weeks on the road. Worst-case scenario… jail had firm mattresses. I’d unkink my back, at least, so there was that.

I met my brothers a few blocks away from our rental, at the corner of two tree-lined streets. They were already waiting when I arrived, in an anonymous limo, its windows tinted black. The back door cracked open as I approached. I gave it fifty-fifty odds I’d find my brothers inside, with Father next likeliest, then the police.

Here goes nothing, I told myself, and slid inside. And Carlo scowled across at me, so far, so good. Dom made a face like he’d smelled something rotten.

“So,” Carlo said.

I cleared my throat. “Yeah.”

Dom pressed the intercom. “Just drive around.”

The car started moving, but we all sat still, frozen in a sort of awkward tableau. I watched Dom’s face. Carlo watched mine. I tapped my foot, restless, then stopped when Dom’s lip twitched. But it was Carlo who broke the silence.

“Why did you run?” he said.

“Why do you think?”

Dom threw his hands up. “Was it you? Did you do it?”

I resisted the impulse to reach out and grab him, to jam him in a headlock like when he was a kid. You think I did it? Do you? Huh? Huh?

“Of course not,” I said, my tone bland and even.

“Prove it,” said Dom. Carlo touched his arm.

“We didn’t think it was you.” Carlo’s lips tightened. “But then you ran off. You’ve been gone for weeks. You’ve read all our texts, but you haven’t responded, so you tell me. What would you think?”

I ducked my head, ashamed. “Nothing good,” I admitted.

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