Page 74 of Royal

“Ah, fuck.” He reaches into his pocket and tosses his keys at me. “Be careful with my baby, okay?”

I wet my lips, nodding. He’s brave. I haven’t specifically told him that the accident where I killed someone involved a car… but he does know I wrecked Davis’s vehicle, so he wouldn’t be off base to tell me to use caution. He’s smart enough to have started putting the pieces together. “Of course. I appreciate it.”

“Royal.” His head tips to the side. “I hope you find whatever you’re looking for, man.”

With a shake of my head, I turn, holding up his keys. “Thanks,” I grit out over my shoulder.

Racing back outside, I hop into his car. I’m always very mindful of what I’m doing anytime I happen to get behind the wheel these days, but I’ve also got a whole fuck ton on my mind. I keep thinking about Echo having some sort of a secret that wasn’t hers to keep. I press my lips together. I need to know. Now.

My heart begins to thump out of control behind my rib cage. Blood pounds relentlessly inside my head as I drive closer and closer to her home—the home that I now know is occupied by her sister, not her parents. A wave of concern hits me again. What the fuck happened to them?

I pull the car directly into their driveway and put it in park. I’m out of the car in a flash, hurrying up the sidewalk. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable. Drawing in a breath, I ring the doorbell, then plant my hands on my hips. I don’t have a clue what I’ll do or say if her sister answers the door. Fuck, I don’t even know what I’ll say even if it’s her.

The patter of quick, light footfalls sounds on the hardwood floor in the entryway. My brow furrows. The doorknob turns, and the door swings open.

My gaze lowers. A toddler stands there, staring up at me with wide eyes.

There’s some movement at the back of the house before Echo’s voice rings out. “Chase! I’ve told you not to open the door to strangers.”

I can’t take my eyes from the little boy. They’re green like Echo’s are—all three of the Madden’s have those eyes. His, though, are a paler version, his hair a dirty blond color. Raising my hand, I give him a small wave, which sends him running down the hall in the other direction.

He buries his face in Echo’s legs, throwing his chubby arms around them. The blood rushes from her face as she stares at me in open-mouthed shock. Stark fear coats every last one of her features. The child’s next words hit me straight in the gut. “Sorry, Mama.”

TO BE CONTINUED…