by Selena
“Give me some credit, too,” I say. “I’m not a dumb bitch, Preston. You said you know every car at Willow Heights, and yet, you described that car as a shitty pickup.”
“Those kids didn’t go to Willow Heights.”
“Uh huh,” I say. “But I bet you know what kind of truck it was. I bet, if they go to Faulkner, you know exactly who they are.”
Preston curses under his breath, giving me a dark look. “So what if I do? If I can figure it out, so can the cops, if they want to. So could you.”
“How?” I ask. “Go around looking for every shitty pickup in this redneck town, and then go knocking on the door asking if they ambushed my brother? You saw it. You could recognize it.”
Preston lays a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm and his eyes hard as they bore into mine. “It doesn’t matter who they are,” he says. “And trust me, you don’t want the cops to find them, either. Because if they do, they’ll question them, and you won’t like the answers they give.”
I swallow hard, a funny flutter catching in my throat. “What does that mean?”
“It means they’re just a bunch of punks who have no money and no better options for earning it,” he says. “They’re not the players in this game. They’re the pawn you sacrifice on your first move.”
“Stop talking metaphors and tell me straight.”
“Learn to ask better questions.”
We stare at each other for a long moment. I know the question he wants me to ask, the one I need to ask, but I can’t. I can’t, because he’ll give me an answer I don’t want, an answer I’ll have to think about, and I’ve been refusing to think about it every second of every day since Royal woke up. And the fucked up part is, I might believe him. I don’t want to believe him, but I might.
Some part of me already knows what he’ll say. Some part of me already suspects a truth so horrible I can’t let myself think it, let alone hear it spoken aloud.
“I thought you said you weren’t a liar,” I whisper, my heart pounding in my chest, my throat, my ears. I can barely speak.
“And I thought you said you weren’t a dumb bitch.”
“Then I guess we’re both wrong,” I say, and I turn and walk away. My heels echo inside the cavernous gymnasium, but it’s the only sound. This time, Preston lets me go. He doesn’t follow. He doesn’t have to. The damage has been done.
thirteen
Devlin
“Come on, my dudes, let’s party it up!” Colt slides over the door and into the back seat of the Ferrari, tossing boxes of condoms to me and Preston as he goes. “I’ve been saving up all week. I’m gonna bust a nut in some blondies tonight.”
“Actually, I’m a little bruised up,” I say, shifting the car into gear and gunning it. “I might skip the party tonight.”
“You mean you’re going to a party of two,” Preston says, slugging my shoulder as we pull out of the convenience store lot.
“Devlin’s in lo-ove,” Colt hollers, jumping up and grabbing me and the seat in a headlock, trying to give me noogies like we’re eight years old again.
“Knock it off,” I say, shoving him off.
Colt collapses back into his seat, laughing his ass off.
I don’t say anything for a few minutes. I know they’re just doing their thing. But when we turn onto the street to my neighborhood, I come clean. These guys might give me shit, but they’re still my boys.
“Yeah, I’m going to be with Crystal,” I say. “It’s the only time her family doesn’t have her under lock and key. And to be honest, getting drunk with you assholes doesn’t measure up.”
“Okay, lover boy,” Colt says, still chuckling.
“And yeah, I fucking love her,” I say. “Get used to it.”
“Damn,” Preston says, shaking his head. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”
“I’m not getting into anything,” I say. “I’m already in it.”
“Gramps will never let it happen.”
“He’s not going to ruin my life like he tried to do with my parents.”
“That’s exactly what he’s going to do,” Preston says. He has some special insight into Grampa Darling. Not only is he the favorite, but his mind works the same way. I wish I could have done more to get him out from under our grandfather’s thumb, but what was I supposed to do? I was a kid just like him when Grampa singled him out, and his dad was a hundred fucking percent on board with grooming Preston to take over the business.
“We’ll figure something out,” I mutter, pulling up beside the Benz in the garage.
“More pussy for me,” Colt sings, hopping out of the car without using the door, as usual. “Let me go give my second mom a kiss, and then I’ll hit the party with you, Pres.”
Colt has a strange bond with the woman who should have been his mom, the woman who’s not actually related to either of us, though you’d never know by the way she smothers us.
“Slip her some tongue for me,” Preston calls after him as Colt goes bounding into my house, his middle finger held high for us.
“The only guy who can talk about getting pussy and kissing his mother in the same breath,” I say, shaking my head.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Preston asks.
“No fucking clue,” I admit, throwing the brake and getting out of the car. “I just know I can’t stop doing it. And I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t,” Preston says, getting out of the car and taking my keys. He rests a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Just know where it ends, Dev. You got one semester left. High school is ours. We can do whatever the fuck we want. Once it ends, that’s the real world, and no one gets to do what they want out there.”
“This is Darling country,” I say. “We should be able to do what we want.”
“If every Darling did whatever the fuck they wanted, it wouldn’t be Darling country anymore,” Preston says. “There’s a system. You follow the system, and things stay the way they are. That’s what keeps us at the top. You buck the system, and it all falls apart.”
“I know,” I say, slumping against the car. “But don’t you ever question why it is the way it is? Why it needs to stay that way? If maybe it’s time the system changed?”
“No,” Preston says, dropping his hand from my shoulder. “There’s no point.”
Colt emerges from the house, jogging down the back steps and striding over.
“Have fun at the party,” I say, pushing off the Ferrari.
“Enjoy it while you can,” Preston says, circling the front end to climb into the driver’s seat. “You got a few months left.”
I wave and head for the house. He’s right. We all play our parts. If this thing our parents built is a house of cards, then we’re each essential. Take one card out, and the whole castle falls. I don’t want that for my family. They’ve worked hard to build this, and it would be selfish to knock the whole thing down. My job is to marry the daughter of the mayor, and one day become the mayor—not to fall for the seductive curves and pit bull heart of the sexy little mobster’s daughter next door.
But I already know it’s too late.
In the house, I find my parents in the kitchen where we eat, Mom sitting sideways across Dad’s lap with her arms around his neck.
“I’m home,” I call, heading for the fridge. I grab a couple ice packs and the plate of food Lucinda left me, which I toss in the microwave to heat up. Crystal’s on her way, but it’ll take her a few minutes to get away from her family and get a ride home. Just one more thing that frustrates the hell out of me. I want to be the one to take her home at night. But word would get back to her brothers, and I don’t want her to get any more shit from her family than she already does. If my family is controlling, hers is a fucking prison.
“How’s your arm?” Dad asks as I sit down with them a minute later.
“Fine,” I say, tearing into my food. “Just need to ice it for a few minutes.”
“Skipping the postgame party?” Mom a
sks.
I shrug. “Didn’t feel like it tonight.”
“Mm?” she says noncommittally, but I don’t miss the raised eyebrows as she and Dad exchange a look.
“Anything on your mind, son?” Dad asks.
“No,” I say, biting off a mouthful of chicken. “Some things are more important than partying.”
“Well, I think it’s good that you’re not drinking so much lately,” Mom says. “That’s not healthy for anyone, especially at your age.” She pulls a face, and I know she’s holding back what she wants to say, some more scathing words about my real mom’s permissiveness.
My phone chimes with a text, and I glance down at Crystal’s message.
Unsweet Dolce: OMW.
Those three little letters get my head all turned around and my dick stirring.
“I’m going to head up and get some rest,” I say, pushing back from the table without finishing my food.
“Sure, Dev,” Dad says. “We’re turning in ourselves, but I’ll leave the back door unlocked for your guest. I hope you’ll bring her through the front and introduce her to us soon.”
“I will.”
We stare at each other a second. I wonder if he knows who I’m bringing up to my room. He’s not stupid—he knows I’m acting shady because I’m bringing a girl home—so he probably knows who. He’s seen her here before, but that was before we both got arrested because of her family. Knowing Dad, he’s happy for me and doesn’t blame her a bit. The man is a fucking saint. It’s kind of disgusting.
“Dad,” I say slowly, rethinking my exit. I grip the back of my chair, staring at my hands, the same big hands he has. I’m like a carbon copy of him on the outside, but inside, he’s good through and through, while I’m lucky to be called anything less than a monster. “How do you manage to live in this town and be your own man?”
Dad clears his throat and wraps an arm around Mom’s trim middle, shifting her weight onto one knee. “I wouldn’t say I’ve been able to be my own man,” he says. “And if I am now, it took more sacrifices than it was worth to get here.”
Mom wraps her arms around him, snuggling tighter against his chest. She’s one of the sacrifices he made, one he was forced to make when Grampa Darling chose who Dad married the first time around.
“There’s no way to change his mind?” I ask.
“He doesn’t see what he did as a mistake,” Mom says. “He thinks we made the mistake.”
“There is a way,” Dad says quietly, frowning down at the table in front of him. I can read the pain etched into the lines on his face, lines caused by worry, years of court battles, the loss of two of his brothers. Lines caused by my grandfather. I don’t know how he had a father like that and turned out so good, while I had him and turned out so bad.
“A way that doesn’t involve giving up our whole family and living destitute in the trailer park across town because no one will hire me?” I ask. It’s one thing to leave my name, but Colt and Preston are part of me like my limbs. Who else in the world will ever know the ins and outs of our family, understand the intricacies of our fates? Who else would be able to know without a word what I needed, what I meant by some obscure remark because they know my life like it’s their own, the same way I know theirs?
“In this town, with this name?” Dad says, leaning back in his chair. “I know I’m supposed to give you a pep talk, but… I can’t think of a way.”
“You could do worse than Dolly Beckett,” Mom says. She always loved Dolly. Hell, the girl is a copycat of Mom—magnified tenfold. Maybe that’s part of the reason I could never feel what I was supposed to feel for her.
“It’s not just that,” I say, kicking my toe against the leg of the chair I’m leaning on. I admit, it’s a big part of it. But I want the freedom to live like anyone else, to make a name for myself instead of bearing the burden of someone else’s. I know that’s impossible, but for a moment, I think about it. I can’t run away from who I am.
“What is it, honey?” Mom asks, bringing me back to earth.
“Nothing,” I say. “Thanks for coming to the game. I hope y’all enjoyed it.”
“We did,” Mom says. “You were brilliant, as always. Don’t forget your ice packs.”
I pick them up, say goodnight, and head up to my room to wait for Crystal. This is reality. Like Preston said, I better enjoy it while I can. Four months. That’s how long I have until graduation. The longest I can possibly hope to have with the girl I love.
I try to imagine a life outside Faulkner, but I can’t. I couldn’t leave my cousins, anyway. It’s no different than being disowned. It doesn’t matter if I’m across town in the trailer park or in New York City with Crystal. If I broke from the Darlings, I’d never see them again. And not only that, but they’d hurt because of it. If I took us off the game board, if I pulled my card from the crazy card house, it might free me, but it would send everyone else tumbling down. I could leave behind my name, my inheritance, all of it—if it only affected me. But I can’t make anyone else pay for my sins.
As if in answer, my phone chimes. Crystal’s here. Now it’s time to pay for my sins like I do every time I’m with her, every time I have to remember what I did to her, and know that she’s a big enough person to forgive what no person should have to—a bigger person than I am.
When does that end? When can I stop paying? And what exactly is the total cost of my sin?
fourteen
Crystal
Life in limbo. There is no fighting, but there’s no peace, either. Weeks pass, and even though Devlin very publicly stood up for me at school, I can’t sit with him. I am a Dolce girl, not a Darling Doll. People stare and speculate. They’re still waiting to see what I’ll do. Or maybe they’re waiting for the Darlings to tell them where I belong.
Even I’m not sure of the answer to that. At home, I am a good Dolce daughter. At school, I’m a curiosity, a mystery that no one can solve. Only on Friday nights can I sneak away and be a Darling girl—Devlin’s darling. I love my family, but I live for our Friday nights together. I can get through each week only by counting down to the time when I can be with him again. When I can be myself again. A few hours stolen each week is all I get. I take it greedily, wallow in it, glut myself with enough genuine acceptance to last me for six more days. Funny how what started as a game has become the only real thing in my life.
As I’m waiting with Dixie next to Dolly’s pink monstrosity of a truck after the game a few weeks later, a dark green mustang slides up in front of us. The window lowers silently, and Preston leans down from the driver’s side to see us. “Hop in if you’re going to Dev’s tonight.”
“Wait, you’re giving me a ride?” I ask, balking. We hashed things out, but I’m not sure I entirely trust the guy.
“’Fraid so,” he says. “Hop in or not.”
I check my phone, where I see a message from Devlin telling me as much. When I look at Dixie, she smiles and nods eagerly, a yearning look in her eyes that tells me she wishes she could be in my shoes right now, going off to see the guy she loves. “You’ll be okay?”
“Dolly’s just changing,” she says. “She’ll be out any sec. Go, before your brothers see you.”
“Okay,” I say, giving her a wave and diving into Preston’s leather seat, my heart thudding at the thought of my brothers catching me. As far as they know, I leave after the games to go hang out with the girls—not their sworn enemy.
“I didn’t know you had a car,” I say to Preston, buckling up as he peels out of the parking lot.
He laughs. “It’s not New York, Honey Badger. Everyone has a car.”
“Not everyone,” I mutter. I haven’t been able to get away for more than a couple more driving lessons with Devlin, and I’m far from being ready to get my own car. We ride in silence.
“You know, I underestimated you,” Preston says after a bit, laying an arm along the back of my seat. “You seem all quiet and meek. I thought you’d be easy to break.”
I shr
ug. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Oh, I wasn’t disappointed,” he says. “You were easy. I just didn’t expect you to break Devlin, too.”
I smile and turn to the window. “I didn’t break Devlin. I fixed him.”
Preston chuckles. “See, that’s what I mean. I expect the type of girl who would be proud to brag that she broke him. You know, one of those bitches who can’t stop boasting about how badass she is, when really she’s just a little brat who needs to be put in her place. But you…”
He takes a strand of my hair and winds it around his finger, a slow smile spreading over his lips. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him smile, and even though it’s a small one, it matters. To me it does.
He raises my hair to his nose and inhales. “I think you always were in your place,” he says. “We tried to knock you down, but we couldn’t. Because you were always where you belonged. At the top, with us.”
“Wow,” I say. “Did the untouchable Preston Darling just admit he was wrong?”
“I’m not too proud to admit when I make a mistake,” he says. “I mean, it’s never happened before, so I can’t be totally sure, but I like to think I’m pretty self-aware.”
“So, you know you’re a complete psycho?”
He smiles again, this time even bigger, a real smile with teeth showing and everything. “Yeah, baby,” he says quietly. “I know.”
He turns to the road, and we ride the rest of the way in companionable silence. When we arrive, he drops his arm from the seat and turns back to me. “You know why I call you a honey badger?”
“Because it’s nicer than calling me a bitch?”
Preston’s mouth twitches with a smile, but it’s his eyes that get me. They’re so flinty, such a steely blue, but the smile reaches right to the center of them. Knowing I put that smile there feels like winning. “You’re small, you don’t look that intimidating, but mess with you, and damn.”
Before I can answer, he slides out of the car, coming around to open the door and holding out a hand to help me up. I hesitate to take it, to take any kindness from him. With him, everything feels like a trap. At last, though, I let him take my hand and pull me up. When I step out of the car, we’re standing face to face, his blue eyes so bright the color jumps out of the night.