Besides, even if Maria was a bitch, Dinah’s obsession with the Royals still doesn’t make sense. “You and Brooke had it in for the Royals and Steve because Maria Royal was rude to you at one time?” I ask in disbelief.

She sighs heavily. “No, honey. Maria Royal represents every other rich bitch around here. You’ve encountered these types at school. They’re the kind who believe their own shit doesn’t stink.”

Like Jordan Carrington. I guess in some ways, Dinah’s lecture isn’t completely crazy. Except the difference between us is that I don’t give a crap about Jordan while Dinah obviously cared a lot about Maria’s opinion.

“And the one time I tried to reach out to her, she slapped me down. Called me a whore and said I was nothing like her.”

“I’m sorry.”

It doesn’t come out sincere enough, because Dinah starts to cry. Big, fat tears roll down her face as she sobs. “No, you’re not. You don’t get it. You still think the Royals are wonderful. The only person who understood was Brooke, and she’s gone. She’s gone.”

It’s the perfect opening, so I take it. “Did you kill Brooke because she was trying to horn in on your piece of the pie?”

“No, damn you, I didn’t kill her.” Anger drips from Dinah’s tone. “Your precious Reed did.”

“He did not,” I answer between clenched teeth.

“Keep telling yourself that, sweetie.”

I face her mocking gaze head on. “Did you pay Ruby Myers to say that Reed threatened to kill Brooke? Did you?”

Dinah smiles. A cold, humorless smile. “And what if I did? How will you prove it?”

“Her financial records. Callum’s investigators will find out the truth.”

“Will they?” She releases a short, angry laugh, her hand snaking out to grab my chin. “The Royal resources won’t buy Reed’s freedom. I’m going to do whatever it takes to see that piece of murderous shit in prison, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

I slap her hand away and jump off the couch. “You’re not going to pin this on Reed!” I spit out. “I’m going to prove that you paid off Ruby Myers. And maybe I’ll even prove that you killed Brooke.”

“Go ahead, Princess. You’re not going to find anything on me.” She tosses back her booze and then refills her glass.

Sick of her smug, awful face, I hurry off to my room and slam the door. The moment I’m calm enough to hold my phone without dropping it, I call Reed.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“I went to Ruby Myers’ house and—”

“What?”

He yells so loud that I have to pull the phone away from my ear.

“Are you kidding me? What are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?”

“You and I both know her statement is a lie,” I shoot back. Then, lowering my voice to a whisper, I say, “Dinah is up to her ears in this. She virtually admitted to buying Myers off.”

“Ella, dammit, stay out of this. Dad has investigators crawling all over this case and we haven’t been able to turn up new information. If Dinah’s involved, then you poking a hornet’s nest is only gonna get you hurt. I can’t have you hurt.”

“I can’t just sit around.” I stomp over to the window and yank the curtains open. Housekeeping always shuts them for some stupid reason.

Reed sighs. “Look, I know. I know it’s tough for you. But you just gotta accept that this is the right thing for all of us. If I accept the plea deal, it goes away. Instead of a year of uncertainty and then a few more years of appeals with all our dirty laundry parading across the front page, we get it over and done with.” More quietly, he adds, “It’s not gonna last that long.”

Tears well up in my eyes. “It’s not right. And I don’t want you gone for even a day.”

“I know, baby.”

But does he? There’s aloofness in his voice, as if he’s already putting distance between us. A little desperately, I say, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His voice is rough and low and gravelly. “Let’s not fight. Let’s try to put this aside and enjoy the time that I’m still here. Before you know it, I’ll be back.” He pauses. “It’s going to be okay.”

But I just don’t believe him.

* * *

The next day, I try to act as if nothing awful is happening in our lives. As if Reed didn’t just announce he’s going to prison for a minimum of five years. As if my heart isn’t breaking every time I look at him.

He’s right in one sense. If we spend the next five weeks or so dwelling on the horrible future, he might as well start his sentence today.

So I go through the motions at school, acting like nothing’s wrong, but by the time the final bell rings, I’m exhausted from all that pretending and more than ready to go home.

I’m halfway across the parking lot when a sharp voice calls my name.

Instantly, I go stiffer than a board. Great. Jordan.

“We need to talk,” she says from about ten yards away.

I try to get the car door open, but Jordan’s at my side before I can escape. I turn around with a sigh. “What do you want?”

An evil gleam lights her gaze. “I’m calling in the favor.”

Every muscle in my body coils tight. Crap. I was really, really hoping she’d forget all about that. But I should’ve known better than to think that Jordan Carrington forgets anything, especially when it’s to her advantage.

“All right.” I fake a smile. “So who am I duct-taping to the school doors?”

She rolls her eyes. “Like I’d get an amateur to do my dirty work.” With a wave of her manicured hand, she says, “I think you’re going to like this favor, actually. It requires almost little effort on your part.”

Suspicion trickles down my spine. “What do you want?” I repeat.

Jordan gives me a big, broad smile. “Reed Royal.”

29

Ella

It takes a few seconds for Jordan’s words to sink in. Once they do, I can’t stop a loud burst of laughter. She wants Reed? Um, yeah. Not happening, bitch.