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

by Selena

  “Do you have anything on him?” Devlin asks.

  “Maybe,” I whisper, my heart thudding hard in my chest. I know what I have to do, something a thousand times worse than protecting Devlin when my brother held a guy. I have to do the right thing.

  “What is it?” Devlin asks.

  “They’ll kill me,” I say. “You know what happens to people who squeal.”

  “Then I’ll die with you,” Devlin says, holding me harder. “It’s worth it to have had the time I had with you. I told you I’d die for you, and I meant it.”

  “Let’s do it,” I say impulsively.

  Devlin lifts his head, his eyes searching mine. “Do what?”

  “We live and die for each other now,” I say, taking his hand and linking my fingers with his. “You said we were part of each other now. Nothing can tear us apart, Devlin. Not even death. So, let’s die for each other.”

  twenty-nine

  Crystal

  Devlin looks at me a long moment. “What do you mean, Crystal?”

  “They’re going to kill you,” I say. “I’m not living without you, Devlin. I’m in this to the end. I’m yours, forever. My life ends the day yours ends.”

  “You want to… Die?”

  “No,” I say, my heart lurching at the thought. I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to. I have other people to think about now.

  “Then what?”

  “Devlin,” I say slowly. My heart is hammering so hard I can barely breathe, or swallow, or even think. “Can we sit up?”

  “Sure,” he says, lifting himself from me. He helps me sit, maneuvering in the tiny back seat until we’re both sitting. Then he wraps the blanket around us both, pulling me against his side and keeping an arm around my waist. I take comfort in the solid sensation of his strong body beside mine. He will protect us.

  “I didn’t mean we’d really die,” I say. “But we could die to the rest of the world.”

  For a minute, he doesn’t speak. Finally he asks, “How do we do that?”

  “We can run away,” I say, my words coming faster as the idea grows, strengthening more each moment. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it earlier. That’s the Dolce solution to everything. It’s not always the right solution, but this time, it’s the only option. This is the last Dolce tradition I’ll ever honor. “But we have to do more than that. They have to think I’m dead. If I just ran away with you, my family would hunt us down. They’d find me.”

  Devlin lets out a quiet scoff. “I bet they would. The mafia’s probably better at finding people than the FBI. That’s why they have witsec, right?”

  “But if they thought we were dead…” I search his eyes, my heart drumming in my chest. “Like Baron said, anything can look like an accident.”

  “Crystal…” Devlin starts, then shakes his head. “Where would we go?”

  “Anywhere,” I say. “California. Canada. Mexico. Somewhere far from here and far from New York.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to say goodbye,” he says. “Not to your friends, not to your family. We’d have to make a clean break. No note, no blog post, nothing.”

  My heart begins to hammer as I realize he’s agreeing to my crazy, desperate idea. It seemed crazy even to me, but what choice do we have? I won’t let anything happen to Devlin, and I sure as hell won’t be the reason he’s hurt. I won’t let my family keep us apart.

  “I know,” I say, raising my chin. “I don’t belong to the Dolce family anymore. If it was as easy as Royal disowning me, and they’d all go along with it, maybe we could stay. But they won’t let me go, Devlin. This is our chance to start over as ourselves. No pressure from my family or yours. We’ll leave the burden of our names and just be us, where no one knows us as anything else.”

  Devlin works his jaw back and forth for a second. Then he nods. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I ask, my heart doing a little flip. “Really?”

  “If that’s what it takes for us to be together, that’s what we’ll do. I took some money out of the trust already. I just need to go get it. And we’ll need to buy a car with cash. It won’t be anything like this one. Nothing flashy. We’ll have to change who we are.”

  “Oh… Devlin…” My heart sinks when I think of what he’s giving up. His beautiful new car. Football. Graduation. College. His family. “I can’t ask you to do that,” I whisper, my throat thick with tears. “Your family isn’t like mine.”

  “I think my dad will understand,” he says. “Even if they don’t know I’m alive, they’d be happy if they did. They’d be happy I was safe with you. You’re all I need, Crystal.”

  “There’s something I have to do first,” I say, knowing I should fight harder but also knowing I won’t change his mind. And selfishly, I don’t want to. I don’t want to lose him. If his family has to lose him for him to be safe, then that’s what has to happen.

  “Anything you need to do,” Devlin says. “Let me help you.”

  I nod, my throat aching with the hard truth stuck in it. “I have to send a letter,” I say. “I have to tell the truth about Royal. You were right, Devlin. It wasn’t your dad. It was mine.”

  Devlin nods, his eyes so kind it makes my heart ache. He knew. He’s not surprised. His grandfather did something horrible to Royal, but so did my father. I sit up, and I compose an email on my phone. It takes a while, but I give every detail I can think of while Devlin looks up contact information for his dad’s lawyer, the judge, and the newspaper.

  When I’m done, my thumb hovers over the send button. Maybe it won’t do any good. But maybe it will. I only know it’s the last email Crystal Dolce will ever send.

  After hitting send, I sit there with my heart racing, feeling like the worst traitor in the world. I sold out my family. I turned on the Dolces. I’m a snitch. I know what happens to snitches in the “candy” business.

  “Okay,” I whisper, my hands shaking as I set down my phone and reach for Devlin’s comforting grip. “It’s done. There’s no going back now.”

  Devlin takes my face between his hands and kisses me gently. “Then let’s do this. Let me prove I can be there for you, Crystal. I’ll take care of you.”

  I nod, gripping his strong arms with shaking fingers. “You and me,” I say. “’Til death.”

  Devlin strokes my hair back and kisses my forehead. “You’re all I need. Just this. Just us. You and me.”

  Suddenly, I know I can’t do this. Not yet. Not like this.

  I pull away from Devlin and lean back against the seat, close my eyes, and take a deep, shaky breath. “Devlin,” I whisper. “It’s not just you and me.”

  “I know.” His voice is low but firm, but my heart lurches at his words. His hand finds mine under the blanket and squeezes.

  I turn to look at his face, searching his gaze for signs that he’s talking about what I am, signs that he’s as desperate and terrified as I am. But he looks calm, as steady as his body feels next to mine.

  “You do?” I whisper.

  He slips his fingers from mine and slides his hand over my hip, letting it come to rest gently on my flat stomach. “Is this what you’re trying to tell me?”

  “How did you know?” I ask, dizzy with nerves. I want to hold onto him, to make him carry the weight of this terrifying, wonderful secret with me. But I don’t want him to feel what I’ve been feeling the last month. I don’t want him to feel trapped. I don’t want to feel him pull away, to see the terror in his eyes. Somehow, I’ve convinced myself it will hurt less to watch him go if I let him do it, if I don’t hold on or beg him to stay no matter how much I want to.

  “Well,” he says, smiling a little, his hand still resting on my belly. “I’m no expert, but it’s been almost two months since that day I tasted you in the shower, and I think most girls have a period every month.”

  My cheeks warm at the memory, but I force myself not to drop his gaze. “How long have you known?”

  “Not that long,” he says. “When you told me about the coff
ee, I started counting backwards. We’ve been together enough since then that I probably would have noticed if you were bleeding.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I was waiting for you to tell me when you were ready,” he says. “Or to tell me you were on some kind of birth control where you don’t have them.”

  “You’re not freaking out.” I let out a shaky laugh that’s a mixture of relief and terror that I’m still missing something. “Why aren’t you freaking out?”

  Devlin lifts the arm that’s around my back, burying his hand in my hair and turning my face to his without taking his other hand from my middle. He gazes into my eyes with such tenderness that a lump forms in my throat. “I love you, Crystal. You’re my forever girl. The only thing that scares me is someone taking you away from me. And this little baby isn’t going to do that, so why would I freak out?”

  “You’re my forever, too,” I say, laughing even as tears blur my eyes.

  “Good,” Devlin says, pulling me in and gently pressing his lips to mine. “Then nothing has changed except that now there’s one more person in our forever.”

  “You’re still in?” I ask, pressing my forehead to his and slipping a hand behind his neck.

  “Until I fucking die.”

  “Okay,” I say, relief melting me against him. For the first time since I realized I was late, and then more than late, I feel like I can breathe. Like there is hope. Like maybe, by some miracle, we’ll be okay. After what we’ve been through, I think we deserve a fucking miracle.

  “You don’t think this could’ve changed your family’s mind?” Devlin asks.

  “No,” I admit. “I already asked King. He said Dad would put a hit on you.”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen,” Devlin says. “No one is going to take care of my girls but me.”

  “Oh, so you already know it’s a girl?” I tease.

  “I know it’s mine,” he says, his voice close to a growl. “And so are you.”

  “Then let’s go somewhere where that’s possible,” I say. “Somewhere no one will ever find us.”

  We pull on our wet clothes in silence. I’m not cold anymore. Every inch of me is vibrating with adrenaline. I can feel us careening toward the edge, toward the point of no return, but I’m not afraid. I know this is our miracle. That we won’t fall. We’ll fly.

  When we’re dressed, we climb out of the car, leaving our phones and all our possessions inside. Devlin leaves his gun in the glove box and sits in the front seat, the door open. The water has risen so high that it’s only a few feet in front of the car now. I look at Devlin. He looks at me.

  Thunder rumbles overhead, mingling with the roar of the water. We may freeze our asses off walking into town to buy a crappy car, but I know it’s a blessing that the storm isn’t over. More rain means our footprints will be washed away. But the storm is over for us.

  Devlin tosses his soaked jacket into the back seat, turns on the car, and looks at me.

  This is it. This is the end. The point of no return. The moment when we cut ties with Faulkner, with our families. The moment our identities disappear, and we become our own people.

  He sits for a second, then climbs out, pulls the brake, and steps back. Gravity does the rest. The car rolls forward on the slope of the bank. The water catches the front end, and we watch it sink in and disappear beneath the churning water. And then it’s gone. I no longer carry a Dolce ID. I no longer carry a name that was a noose around my neck for too long. I once said I sold my heart to keep my name. Tonight, I washed away my name to keep my heart. I belong to no one but myself and this boy, this boy with no family, no past, no name. He’s no longer Devlin Darling. He’s only mine.

  He takes my hand in his, pulling me closer as the rain begins to fall again. Laughter bubbles up inside me, and I turn and run. My darling boy keeps his fingers laced through mine, and we don’t let go. My clothes are wet and cold and heavy, but I’ve never felt lighter. I’m free. I’m finally fucking free. I’m ready to fly.

  “Come on,” I yell above the rush of rain and river. “Let’s disappear.”

  epilogue

  Crystal

  The sound of the key in the lock startles me. I didn’t hear the Honda pull up outside our little two-bedroom house. I struggle to sit up, pulling down my shirt over my big belly. I shove my phone under the couch pillow just as Devlin walks in. He studies me as he pushes the door closed with his foot.

  “How’s my favorite girls?” he asks, leaning down to give me a kiss and setting down the shopping bag on the coffee table. He sinks onto the couch beside me and puts a possessive hand on my belly. “Has she done anything new today?”

  “I think she discovered her future career,” I say, smiling as I rest a hand on the top of my belly.

  Devlin arches a brow. “I’m intrigued.”

  “Yep,” I say, reaching for the food. “She’s going to be a boxer. She’s decided my bladder will be her first punching bag. She’s been practicing all day.”

  He laughs and pulls me in, kissing me softly. I wrap my arms around him, kissing him like I do every time he comes home from work, every time I have to go a whole day without feeling his touch. He pulls me into his lap, and I move to straddle him. Devlin runs his hands up my thighs and around my hips, grabbing my ass and pulling me forward as he pushes his hips against mine, letting me feel his hardness through his work pants.

  I rock against him, already wet for him. Hormones are a blessing and a curse.

  Devlin pulls back, wariness in his eyes. “Are you going to be thinking about ice cream while I fuck you?”

  I can’t help but laugh, though my cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Probably,” I admit, sliding off his lap. “First, ice cream.”

  He loops an arm around me, pulling me against his side and nuzzling my ear. “As long as I get to eat you next.”

  I pull the bag into my lap, hoping to hide my blush, but Devlin plucks it away.

  “Hey,” I protest, swiping for it as he holds it out of reach.

  “This is my favorite part,” he says with a grin.

  I cross my arms over my chest and give him a playful pout. I can drive now, and after ditching half a dozen cars we bought with cash as we crossed the country, I even have my own car, bought used and registered under my new name. I could have gone out for ice cream myself, but I know how much Devlin loves to bring me home whatever I’m craving.

  His eyes dip to my swollen breasts, which my position put on display, and he swallows.

  “Well played,” he says with a grin, dragging his eyes from my cleavage. He takes a pint of ice cream from the bag. “Cookies and cream.” He sets it on the edge of the coffee table, then continues pulling more from the bag, naming each one as he lines them up. “Strawberry. Mint chip. Rocky Road.” He ends with a pint jar of pickles. I try to laugh, since this is our little joke, even though I’ve never craved pickles. He keeps saying it’s going to happen, so he gets a jar every time I ask for ice cream. But this time, tears blur my eyes as I stare at the rocky road, the memory of King bringing that flavor to my room suddenly fresh in my mind.

  “What’s wrong?” Devlin asks, alarmed at seeing my tears.

  “It’s just the hormones,” I say. “And… And this.” I pull my phone from under the pillow and hand it to Devlin, burying my face in his chest. I can’t risk touching any of my old social media or even my private blog, but I read the news from Faulkner even when I know I shouldn’t.

  Devlin holds me, letting me cry so I don’t have to look at him while he reads about Preston’s dad finally going down for a crime I know my grandfather committed. It’s been six months since we’ve seen our families. Six months since we dumped the car in the river and disappeared. Since we took Devlin’s money, bought a junky old car for cash, and drove away from Faulkner. Six months since I left my world with no goodbyes.

  I still miss them every day, and I know Devlin misses his people, too. He never reads the news from back h
ome. Not anymore. Not since the first month, when we watched with beating hearts and breath held, with fingers crossed that they wouldn’t come looking. That they’d believe the car was washed away by the floods with us in it, even though they didn’t find our bodies. Because of the jacket and certain other “evidence” in the back seat, the police eventually reached the conclusion that after sending the damning email, Devlin and I crawled in the back and were so caught up in each other that we didn’t notice the water rising until it was too late. We joke that at least they think we died doing what we love. I did once tell him it would be the perfect way to die.

  Devlin swipes the story from the screen and lays my phone facedown on the coffee table. “Why do you look at that?” he asks, his voice almost pleading as he lifts my chin. “We can’t go back, Crystal. You know that.”

  “I know,” I say, nodding and wiping my nose.

  “I just hate to see you sad,” he says, kissing my teary face.

  “It’s not fair, though,” I say. “Maybe we can send an anonymous letter or something.”

  “Crystal,” he says. “You know that’s too risky. You were brave to do what you did for my dad, but I shouldn’t have even let you do that. We can’t save everyone.”

  “I know.”

  He runs his thumb across the fat pink diamond of my ring, the lone extravagant purchase we’ve made. It cost more than it did for us to buy new identities. I would have been happy with a twenty-dollar ring from a department store, but Devlin wasn’t having it. After watching him agonize about the fact that it would take him ten years working as a grunt for Nyso Records to afford something nice, I suggested he dip into our savings, which we’ve left mostly untouched. I don’t need more than the simple life his income provides. But he wanted to give me more.

  His voice softens, and he holds my hand gently in his. “Remember what you told me when I didn’t want to use the trust fund money on your ring because it was Grampa Darling’s?”