Free Royal Prick (A Stepbrother Romance) by J.L. Beck Page B

wasn’t something that I ever experienced, at least not fear like this. I would be lying if I said Royal didn’t bring it out the most in me. He scared the ever-loving-shit out of me. I could still remember the look in his eyes as he spoke, the pressure he had against my throat, and the warm blood that dripped from his hand and down onto my skin. It was almost like he wasn’t himself. I could tell that it wasn’t me that he was angry with and that he didn’t actually want to hurt me, but it was like he couldn’t stop himself. Not that that was an excuse or a reason for him to put his hands on me. It just seemed like that’s all he knew how to do.
    Pain.
    Anger.
    Rage.
    It had been a week since our confrontation with one another. My mother was on my ass about staying focused and as far away from Royal as I could be, but she didn’t know Royal. At least not like I did. Sure he was angry and had a violent streak, but he was also misunderstood and hurting. There was good in him, I could see it. If there wasn’t then he wouldn’t have walked away last night or any other time that I provoked him.
                         “Apparently there is a party at Sasha’s house this weekend? I didn’t know if you wanted to go or not?” Jordan questioned me as we headed out toward the student parking lot. The wind blew, and I could smell Royal’s cologne in the air. I guess he wasn’t that far behind me after all.
                         “Isn’t that an invite only kind of thing? I hate Sasha. I would rather stab her in the eye with a hot fork than have to listen to her talk,” I confessed, fishing my keys out of my purse. My thoughts were focused on Royal. On whatever it was that he was doing, or wherever he was for that matter.
                         “Who knows, better yet who gives a fuck?” Jordan snickered. I shook my head at her. She was such an innocent girl, swear words just didn’t seem right coming out of her mouth.
                         “I can tell you that I don’t give a fuck….” Royal boasted, snaking around us and stopping me from entering into the car.
                         “I can tell you neither of us care what you give a fuck about.” Jordan got the words out before I could. She looked at him with disgust, not enough though; I could tell she liked the bad boy image he put out, and so could he.
                         “You give a fuck about me…” His words were smooth as he shoved past me and right up next to Jordan.
                         “Seriously, just leave her alone. She’s immune to your bullshit anyway,” I spoke, finally getting my car door open. I threw my shit in the back seat, and ignored whatever kind of moves he was putting on her. Jordan was strong enough to stand against him.
    If I could, she could.
                         “She wants me…” I wanted to punch him right in the face, but instead slid into the driver’s seat. Mark hadn’t gotten Royal a car yet. I believed it was because he wasn’t responsible enough to have one, but I never brought it up. At least I knew he wasn’t out hurting himself because he couldn’t get anywhere without me.
                         I could hear Jordan giggle and knew I needed to end the shenanigans that he started. “I’ll call you later, Jo! Royal get in or I’m leaving you here.” You could see the mesmerized look in her eyes. Clearly she wasn’t as immune to him as I had thought.
                         “I’ll see you later…” he whispered into her ear, jogging around the car, and getting in before I could leave without him. He had barely gotten in the car and his door closed when I slammed the car in reverse with much more force than needed. God, he was an asshole.
                         “Who pissed in your