Broken Prince Page 68

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“How’s Reed Royal?” I ask for the thousandth time.

The nurse brushes by as if she doesn’t hear me. I want to yell, “I know you hear me, bitch,” but I don’t think that would generate the response I need.

Easton sits across the room from me. He’s volcano-hot and ready to explode and has been ever since he caught up with the guy who knifed Reed in the stomach. He wants to kill Daniel, and only the fear for Reed’s life is keeping him glued to the chair.

That and the fact that the cops showed up faster than we’d expected. I’d begged Easton not to leave me, because fear was riding me hard. What if there was another knife out there with Easton’s name on it?

I cannot believe that maniac paid someone to hurt Reed.

“The only reason I’m not making Daniel into an organ donor is because Reed would kill me the minute he got out of his hospital bed if he knew I left you alone.”

I nibble on my thumbnail. “I don’t know, Easton. Daniel’s nuts. You could take him in a fight, but then what? He’s doing shit that we wouldn’t even dream of. Hiring someone to stab Reed? What if the knife hit something major? It’s a miracle he’s alive.”

“Then we do something worse,” Easton says and he’s serious.

“And then you and Reed get sent to prison for assault?”

He scoffs. “No one’s going to prison for anything. This is between us.”

“Can’t you just tell the police what you heard?”

“The knifer is long gone.” Easton shakes his head. “Plus, Reed would want to take care of it himself. Leave the cops out of it.”

I open my mouth to object, but I don’t have a good response. I didn’t report Daniel for hurting me and now look at what happened. He’s preying on other girls and hiring thugs to hurt the people I love.

Callum bursts through the doors, interrupting my thought process. “What do you know?” he asks us.

“Nothing. They won’t tell us anything!” I wail.

“They aren’t telling us shit, man,” Easton agrees.

Callum gives us a brusque nod. “Stay here,” he orders needlessly.

I’ve never been so happy to see Callum. Even if his own house is a mess, it’s clear people listen to him. He leaves the waiting room to go shake down some higher-up and find out what the heck is happening to Reed.

He returns less than five minutes later. “Reed’s in surgery. It looks good. They pulled him in there to see if anything vital was hit, but it was shallower than it appeared at first. The knife wound was neat and clean. There’s some tissue and muscle damage but that should heal with time.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “A clean knife wound. Listen to me, what am I even saying?” He levels a hard look at Easton. “I can’t believe you would take Ella down to wharf if it was this dangerous.”

Easton pales. “It was never dangerous before. It was just a bunch of punks, like me, wanting to gamble and punch the shit out of each other. We knew everyone. Weapons are never allowed. This happened when we were leaving.”

“This true, Ella?” Callum demands.

I nod frantically. “It’s true. I never felt like I was in danger, and some of these kids were from Astor but also from other prep schools. I never saw any guns or anything.”

“Then you’re saying it was random?” It’s clear from the disbelief on his face that Callum doesn’t think this is random at all.

Easton rubs a hand across his mouth. “No, not saying that.”

“Ella?”

“It was Daniel,” I say in a small voice. “And it’s my fault.”

“How so? Did you hold the knife?”

I press my lips between my teeth to keep from crying. I don’t want to break down right now, even though I feel like I’m on the edge of a real bad emotional breakdown.

“I didn’t report Daniel. I should’ve but I didn’t want to deal with the mess. My past isn’t pretty and the testifying, the shit-talking at school…I already get enough of it.” And I thought I was stronger, but apparently I’m not. I hang my head in shame.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Callum comes to put his arm around me. “This isn’t your fault. Even if you had reported Daniel, he would still be out. You don’t go to jail just because someone fills out a police report. There’s a whole trial process.”

Unconvinced, I shrink away from his comfort.

Easton clears his throat. “Not your fault, Ella. I should’ve taught him a lesson.”

Callum shakes his head. “I’m all for a fist in the face if it does good, but I don’t see an end to this problem by beating the kid up. Hiring someone to stab my son is beyond the realm of an average bully. A few more inches to the left and…” His voice trails off, but my mind fills in the blanks.

A few more inches to the left and we’d be planning a funeral. And maybe Callum’s right that Reed’s stabbing would have happened even if I’d reported Daniel, but staying silent doesn’t sit right with me anymore.

I can’t drag Daniel down the front steps of the school and humiliate him into stopping. I tried that route once. And Reed already beat him up. Daniel’s not going to stop by himself.

Someone has to stop him.

“What if I reported what happened?” I ask.

“About tonight?” Callum prompts.

Easton frowns, but I ignore him.

“No, the other night. When he drugged me. I mean, it’s too late to get tests and stuff, but there were other people there in the room. Some guy named Hugh. Two girls from North. They know that Daniel drugged me.”

Callum draws back so he can look at my face. There’s a concerned expression on his. “I’m not going to lie to you, honey. These sort of things are really ugly for the victims, and your drugging happened a while ago. There’s no way for us to take samples of your blood. If the other people don’t—or won’t testify—it’ll be your word against his.”

I know this and it’s why I never reported it in the first place. Reporting it is a big hassle that never seems to have any good results, particularly for the person who was hurt. But what’s the alternative? Keep my mouth shut so that Daniel can continue to find victims?

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