Bury Me (Willow Heights Prep Academy: The Elite Book 3)

by Selena

  For seconds, minutes, I can’t breathe or think or even see. There’s no thought, no mind, only my body that is so wonderfully, powerfully alive and overflowing with pleasure. And Devlin, who is giving it. At last, I begin to come back to myself, to reality, little quivers still racing through me every few seconds.

  “Damn, Sugar,” Devlin whispers, his voice rough and hoarse, as if he’s the one who’s been crying out. He pulls the pillow away from my face before I’ve caught my breath, resting his elbows on either side of my head as he sinks into me slowly. “We’re part of each other now,” he murmurs, his lips hovering above mine, his heated gaze holding mine. “You can’t undo what we just did. We’ll be part of each other forever. From the moment we met, you were mine.”

  “I was yours,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck, my legs around his hips. “I am yours. I never stood a chance. Never had a choice.”

  “Neither did I. Every inch of me is yours.” Devlin skims his lips over mine as he moves slow and deep inside me, to the place where pleasure and pain mix until I can’t tell them apart. Then he stills, kissing me gently, letting me feel the perfect, painful way he fills me until I can’t take another fraction of an inch without screaming.

  “Give me every inch,” I pant, rocking against him. “Give me everything.” I want it all, from the unbearable bliss to the deep, bruised ache he leaves in my lower belly. I want to wrap myself around him and never let him go, no matter who tries to tear us apart. I want to weather every storm with him, even the storm that is Devlin himself. I want him to break down my walls, to pound into me with the brutal force of a hurricane until he’s spent, and he’s placid as a calm, blue sea. Until there’s nothing left in me to break, no fight left; until my walls are nothing but sand next to his sea.

  “We’re meant for each other,” he whispers, beginning to move inside me. “Nobody else. Just us.”

  “Just us,” I agree, holding his face between my hands. “Always.”

  Our love is different, deep and intense tonight. Devlin fucks me slow and hard, and our eyes never leave each other’s. When we come together, the connection between us pulls so tight it’s almost unbearable, infinite and painful in its rawness, as if our souls have woven together and can never be separated from each other, and every ugly, shameful, and hidden part of ourselves has been bared to the other. Even my orgasm is different, echoing in some deep, hidden part of me.

  I know then that no matter what our families say, we can’t stay apart. We can’t even when we try. We’re each other’s, and there’s no way to change that. It was set in motion the first time we met, and it will never stop. I may have joked about Romeo and Juliet with Colt, but now I understand it. I understand love that can’t be stopped. I understand two people can’t be separated even by death. I understand because we just became those two people. Nothing will ever come between us again. No matter what it takes, we will be together, even if we have to die to make it happen.

  twenty-two

  Devlin

  “Are we really going through with this charade again this year?” Dolly asks, slipping her hand into my elbow and joining me under my umbrella. I’m annoyed by how familiar it feels—how comfortable. But that’s all it is. She doesn’t make my head all dizzy and turned around when she’s in there, doesn’t get my heart all fucked up or send my blood rushing to my cock when she touches me. No, she’s just Dolly, the girl I’ve known since we were young enough to take off our clothes without shame.

  An incident that was quickly corrected by a few whacks of Grampa’s belt.

  “What charade, my darling fiancé?” I ask, squeezing her hand to my side. “Don’t tell me marrying a Darling won’t make your every dream come true.”

  She gives that ladylike scoff of hers. “Hardly.”

  “I don’t know how you could want for anything more than our coveted name,” I say as we fall into the parade of matched couples under large umbrellas entering Grampa Darling’s house for the annual Christmas Eve dinner.

  “I don’t know, either,” Dolly says. “But somehow I manage.”

  “What else is there?” I ask, smiling for the event photographer. Yes, my family’s Christmas Eve dinner counts as an event in this town. No doubt it’ll be in the papers tomorrow. Rain or shine, the show must go on.

  “Travel,” Dolly says. “Fame, fortune, the whole world.”

  “Don’t tell our families that.”

  “Don’t I know,” she says. “Is your grampa going to make us give the dreaded have-you-set-a-date talk again this year? I don’t know if I can fake my way through another one of those, Devlin.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say quietly as we ascend the wide steps to the front door. We both know I’m apologizing for more than my insufferable grandfather. I’m apologizing for not being able to love her the way she loved me, the way she wanted. The way she deserves. She had to sit through those questions, and as uncomfortable as it was to have to lie my way through, I know it was that much worse for her when she wanted to believe the lies, that we’d get married and have it all.

  “Grampa knows you,” I say, leaning down to speak to her as we enter into the foyer. “Just be yourself.”

  “I’m always myself,” she says. “That’s the problem.”

  “It’s not a problem,” I tell her. “It’s spectacular.”

  She smiles, but I catch the shade of sadness there. I feel it, too. This is the end, the last one of these we’ll ever go to. I lead her into the next room, where people are dancing and chatting quietly, clinking their glasses together.

  “Dance?” I ask, holding out a hand to Dolly.

  “We got dressed up, we might as well play pretend,” she says with a sigh, sliding her arms around my neck. She feels so different, so much bigger and more solid, her waist thicker than Crystal’s in my hands. I wonder what she’s doing at home, if she has any ridiculous obligatory traditions in her family.

  I’m not the only one thinking of someone else. Dolly’s gaze is fixed behind me, and I don’t have to turn to know who’s there.

  “Not him,” I murmur, tightening my grip on her waist.

  “Who?” She draws back, her eyes widening.

  “Whatever you do, Dolly, as someone I care about, I’m pleading with you to find someone else. Go, travel the world, do your thing. Don’t step in my family’s quicksand.”

  Our eyes meet, and we sway to the music for a minute, neither of us speaking. She’s so close I can smell her bubblegum. But even with her plump lips inches from mine, I couldn’t summon even a twitch of my cock for her if I tried. That doesn’t mean I want to see her—or my cousin—repeat my parents’ mistakes.

  “You chose your destiny,” she says at last.

  “Did I?” I ask, pulling back with a frown. “If I had, I think she’d be here right now.”

  “You’ll find a way,” she says.

  For a minute, we’re silent again. This time, I speak first. “Will you?”

  “I don’t know,” she says. “I’ll find some way. I’m just not sure what way it’ll be yet.”

  “Well,” I say. “Be careful. His destiny is to follow his father, and his father’s father. Our job here isn’t to commit the sins of our fathers and forefathers all over again.”

  “I think the sins of our forefathers is slavery,” she says.

  I wince. If he really wanted to teach us shame, my grandfather should have started with that instead of whipping us for taking off our clothes when we got wet in a mud puddle. “Yeah, well, let’s not repeat any of their sins,” I tell Dolly.

  “I guess gettin’ out of here is a good way to avoid our parents’ mistakes.”

  “You know what’s here,” I say. “I think you’re fucking brave to leave.”

  “Me, too,” she says.

  They make an announcement that dinner’s about to be served, but we finish out the song. Looking down at Dolly, I see what my life would be if I took the easy road. Like Mom said, I could do a lot worse than Dolly B
eckett. She’s a bombshell, and in these last few months, I’ve seen her transform. Not from a caterpillar to a butterfly—Dolly’s always been a butterfly—but some other winged thing. Something fierce and brave, who goes after what she wants, flying free of her cage and into the unknown.

  If she stayed, if we did what our parents wanted and took the easy road, we could be content. It would be a comfortable life with all a guy could ask for. A nice home, a family, a wife that other men coveted and who could also challenge me. Ironically, that’s the one thing she was always missing, and I know who I have to thank for it.

  The girl who I’d give up every comfort for, who might not bring me contentment but will challenge me until I lose my fucking mind half the time. The girl who keeps me on my toes, who is so strong she can make even a soft, sweet little southern belle like Dolly reach deep down inside and find her strength. A girl I will fight to be with every day of my life, even if it means giving up everything guaranteed in this life. That girl is my destiny.

  “What about you, Dolly?” I ask. “What’s your destiny?”

  “I’m destined for great things,” she says. “That’s all I know.”

  “If that’s all you need to know, you’re braver than me,” I say.

  “I could have told you that,” she says with a grin.

  The song ends, and I pull her in and kiss her forehead. I lock eyes with Preston over her cloud of hair, sprayed with enough product to choke a horse if it inhaled near her. “Just don’t do anything stupid before you get the chance,” I say. “I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

  “I’m a big girl, Devlin,” she says, pulling away. “You don’t have to look out for me anymore.”

  “Well, I know you,” I say. “And I don’t want to see him get hurt, either.”

  “Devlin Darling,” she says, giving my shoulder a playful push. “I think there was a compliment buried deep, deep, deep in there.”

  “Maybe,” I say with a little smile, offering her an arm. “Don’t tell on me.”

  “If I was going to tell on you, it would be for running around on me with Crystal.”

  I tense. “I don’t think my grandfather cares who his progeny fuck around with, as long as they marry who he thinks they should and don’t have illegitimate children.” I know I’m being a dick even as the words leave my mouth, no matter how true they are.

  Dolly just smiles and pats my arm with her free hand as we move with the other couples toward the dining room. “I’m not going to tell on you, Devlin. And you’re right. Most powerful men have affairs. I’m sure he’s no stranger to that fact.”

  “I’m not having an affair,” I grit out, annoyed.

  “I know,” she says quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply that. You’re not mine, Devlin. You never were. I know that now. You hurt me, but I don’t resent you for it anymore. I understand. Some things just aren’t meant to be.”

  “Thanks,” I mutter. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted. What you deserve.”

  She doesn’t argue. She knows she deserves better. It stings a little, but I’m happy she finally knows it. “Devlin?” she says, looking up at me, her Bambi eyes serious.

  “Yeah?”

  “Just be what she deserves.”

  I swallow hard, knowing she’s giving me something priceless—her blessing. Not only has she let go of the dream, but she wants me to be happy. We’re friends, as we’ve always been, since long before we knew the implications of the marriage we’ve known was our fate since we could say the word.

  “Hey, Devlin,” Chase says, slipping up behind us with Lindsey on his arm.

  “Hey,” I say, shaking Chase’s hand.

  He turns to my date while I nod to my waifish little cousin, who looks perfectly polished like all the women here, though I can read the frazzled expression in her eyes. I do not envy Preston his position in the family.

  “Why, Dolly Beckett,” Chase says. “Last time I saw you, you were crumping at a football game, and now you’re looking like a damn fine society lady. Aren’t you just a Jack of all trades?”

  She laughs, and it’s an easy laugh, one that makes me happy. I’m happy that she’s happy, that she’s excited about her future instead of desperately obsessed with it. I’m happy that she can still laugh that way. That she has enough sense to get out of this town. And I’m happy that I won’t have to fake it much longer. For tonight, though, we’ll fake it. We’ll fake it through the interview with Grampa Darling, when he’ll tell us we’re graduating in a semester, and it’s time I made an honest woman of Dolly. We’ll fake it through the one her family will put us through, too. And we’ll hold them off a few more months, until Dolly leaves town.

  And then somehow, I have to convince my family that I belong with an Italian New Yorker with mafia ties whose family is hellbent on destroying us. Should be a piece of cake.

  twenty-three

  Crystal

  Christmas is a time of tradition. But what happens when all the traditions are broken, when everything is broken? When families don’t trust, don’t love, don’t even care enough to visit? When no one hangs a stocking, and there is no laughter and merriment in the air. I stopped believing in Santa Claus a long time ago, but this is the year I stopped believing in the magic of Christmas.

  “Are you staying over?” Dixie asks, looking back and forth between me and Dolly. The three of us sit cross-legged on her bedroom floor, eating homemade Christmas cookies Dolly brought and exchanging late Christmas gifts.

  “I can’t,” I say with a sigh. “Royal’s outside waiting to escort me home when we’re done.”

  “Let him wait,” Dolly says. “You said you’d come for a movie.”

  “I did,” I say, gesturing to my Christmas pajamas. “I just can’t stay over. My brother doesn’t trust me not to run off with Devlin if I’m out of his sight for a night.”

  “He’s got a point,” Dixie says, giggling. “You probably would.”

  “I would not,” I say, swatting her knee. “I’d never leave my BFF’s party to hang out with a guy.”

  “This isn’t exactly a party,” she says, looking momentarily glum.

  “Oh, hush,” Dolly says. “It is so a party. I don’t make cookies for just anything.”

  “You made them for Christmas,” Dixie points out. “These are leftovers!”

  “Are you saying you’re too good to eat leftovers?” Dolly asks in a mock scolding tone. “There are children starving in Africa!”

  We all crack up, and I snag a Santa cookie from the tin. “So, what’d you girls get for Christmas?”

  “I got the usual from my family,” Dixie says. “Clothes that don’t fit to ‘motivate’ me to lose weight, a subscription to Weight Watchers, and a cookbook to go with it.”

  “Oh my god,” I say. “Dixie, that’s horrible.”

  “Yeah, Christmas isn’t my favorite,” she says. “Oh, I did get earrings from my aunt because she couldn’t guess my size, and even fat girls can wear jewelry.”

  “Did she say that?”

  “More or less,” Dixie says. “I also got a lovely box of dog treats, a collar and a leash in the mailbox. My parents were really confused since we don’t have a dog.”

  “I thought they did away with the Darling Dog,” Dolly says.

  “Doesn’t stop Colt from treating me like one,” Dixie says with a sigh. “What about y’all? What’d you get?”

  “If it makes you feel any better, my Christmas wasn’t all that great, either,” I say. “My mom couldn’t be bothered to come down for a visit, since she’d miss all the good holiday parties in New York. And my dad decided to install a security camera on the balcony to ‘keep me safe.’ But it’s really to make sure I don’t sneak out or Devlin doesn’t sneak in my window. They took my phone, too, so I can’t even text him.”

  “That’s messed up,” Dixie says, her eyes widening. “I thought it was bad when I got grounded.”

  “The worst part is, I think it was King who did it,” I
say. “Royal would have murdered Devlin if he caught him sneaking in. My dad, too. But King wouldn’t want to hurt me, and he knows hurting Devlin would. So he didn’t rat me out, he just had them put up security measures. As fucked up as it is, he’s really trying to protect me.”

  “And he thinks keeping you apart will do that?” Dolly asks.

  “Apparently,” I say, sweeping crumbs off my lap. “But it’s not making me want to give up on Devlin. Nothing is going to make me stop loving him. All it’s making me do is want to defy my family.”

  “What are you going to do?” Dixie asks, her eyes wide.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But I’m not going to stop seeing him.”

  “Are you going to the Darlings’ New Year’s Eve party?” she asks. “I heard it’s like, the most exclusive one of the year. It’s at Grampa Darling’s estate outside town, but he’s not there. No adults are.”

  I turn to Dolly. “I assume you’ve been to these?”

  “Of course,” she says, sounding wearied by the whole thing. “But it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Last year, one of their Dolls got roofied.”

  I remember Preston stumbling off into the bushes with some drunk girl at Colt’s house, and I’m not too shocked. Some things are the same at any school.

  “Did she get… You know,” Dixie whispers.

  “Raped,” I say. “That’s the word you’re looking for.”

  “Yeah,” Dolly says. “By two guys on the football team. Guys the Darlings thought were their friends.”

  “Did they get arrested?” Dixie asks, her eyes wide.

  “No,” Dolly says. “They take everyone’s phones, so there was no proof, but when Lacey told them, they beat up the guys so bad they ended up in the hospital. One of them had permanent brain damage. Last I heard, he transferred to Faulkner High where they have more services, and the other guy dropped out of school and is working at a gas station.”

  “Wow,” Dixie breathes. “They really take care of their friends.”