“You fucked with the wrong family,” Devlin says. “Let this be a lesson to you. Afterwards, you can go home and tell your brothers all about it.”
It strikes me then that they didn’t do this in the parking lot impulsively. They weren’t in a fit of rage because my brothers got to show off for the coaches and try to replace them. This was premeditated. Calculated. They could have taken me somewhere private, assaulted and murdered me. But they chose a public shaming. Like they said, this is personal. They’re sending a message to my family. The Darlings are untouchable. They can get away with murder, but they’re sparing us—this time.
“Come on, little doggie,” Preston says, slapping his thigh like I’m an actual dog. He steps forward and grabs the tatters of my shirt, wrenching it from me in one violent motion.
“What the fuck,” I snap. “Give me your shirt.”
“Yeah, right,” Colt drawls. “And miss that view? Damn, girl. You got some tits on you.”
I watch Devlin’s eyes drop to my chest, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows. The lights from the house illuminate the globes of my breasts, my olive skin gleaming in the faint glow above the full cups of my pink silk bra.
After a second, Devlin tears his eyes away and turns, giving the leash a yank. Preston and Colt follow me, ready to catch me if I get any ideas about escape. My heart hammers so hard I’m afraid I’ll pass out with each step, but I force my legs to keep moving. We start toward the house, an oversized grey stone thing. Unlike our house, this one is modern and not located in a neighborhood. I can hear music pulsing from the house, but there are no neighbors to call the cops if things get loud. No one to hear me if I scream.
There’s nothing but fields behind the house, and in the distance, trees. I take a deep breath and tell myself that I will make it through this night. It won’t kill me. I will endure whatever they throw at me. I will endure the humiliation. The pain. The shame. As we step onto the front porch, adrenaline races through me, and I feel like I’m about to faint. I’ve never even taken my shirt off voluntarily for a guy, and now half the school is about to see me without one. With each pull of the leash, I can feel the spikes of the leather dog collar like the one Dixie wore the day I took her place. Now that I’m standing outside a party with a bunch of sociopaths who have me topless and on a fucking leash, that seems like about the worst decision I’ve ever made.
eighteen
Devlin opens the door without knocking, and I grit my teeth and follow him like an obedient puppy, which is at once humiliating and laughable. Suddenly, I want nothing more than to tell him who I was, who I am. What I’ve done. I’m no obedient puppy. I’m not cute or sweet or anything of the sort. I’m a fucked up girl in need of psychological help, but I’ve never rolled over before, and it doesn’t come easy now. I keep reminding myself I’m doing this for my family. I won’t grovel, won’t make a scene like the Darlings want. I will keep my dignity even in the most undignified circumstances.
And while I’m at it, I will find out something that can destroy the Darlings, and I will put an end to these fuckers. If I fight, I’ll not only make the scene worse, but these guys will cut me. I have no doubt that Preston would be true to his word—and that he’d enjoy every second of my torment. That would damage me more than this party ever could.
“Hey,” Devlin barks over the noise in the room. People fall silent, turning to gawk at me. Lacey and a couple friends snort with suppressed laughter and look at me like I’m an infectious disease instead of a hot girl in jeans and a three-hundred dollar bra.
Well, fuck them. If I have to wear this shit, I’ll strut what I’ve got. When Devlin pulls me past her, I keep my head high and stroll by like I’m the queen of this fucking party.
When we’ve passed, I hear the laughter, the shrieks of derision and scorn from Lacey and her cheer bitches. But I don’t hate them for it. Iwasthose girls. I know what sad lives they have. The fear, the constant paranoia about who’s a friend and who will put a knife in your back the second it’s turned. I know the powerlessness that makes you have to cut someone else to the bone to feel powerful again. To feel like you have control.
The worst part isn’t the taunts. The worst part is when Devlin steps into the kitchen. A keg is set up, and he pulls me over to it and holds out a cup. While someone fills it, two pimply guys laugh and whistle at me. One of them grabs my side, his damp fingers cutting into my bare skin.
I elbow him so hard I hope I crack a bone in his wrist. “Touch me again and fucking die,” I say.
Devlin jerks me back, nearly giving me whiplash. I think he’s about to get up in my face, but instead, he towers over the groper like he’s about to beat his ass. “No one pets the Darling Dog without asking,” he thunders.
The kid scurries away, but another guy finishes filling his cup and sidles over to take his place.
“She’s so much hotter than the last one,” he says. “Can I pet her?”
“Yes,” Devlin says, nodding for him to go ahead. The guy’s hand goes right for my boob, giving it a squeeze before I slap it away with all the fury I possess.
“Damn,” he says, shaking his fingers. “She’s mean.”
Colt and Preston crack up, but Devlin barely cracks a smile. “She’s not trained yet.”
I expect Devlin to drink like King, with deliberateness that keeps a drink in his hand at all times but never lets him get out of control. Instead, he chugs his beer and takes another and then another, drinking like he has a death wish and tonight it’s coming true.
I can’t feel for him, though. Not when he proceeds to parade me around the party letting guys touch me and laughing as I slap the shit out of them. When that gets old, he drags me back to a patio where people are shooting pool and taking shots along an outdoor wooden bar. Music and light spill out into the yard. We lost the other two Darlings, but now I catch sight of Preston supporting a girl who’s staggering so badly she can barely keep her feet as they make their way out into the darkness of the yard. Suddenly, fear clenches in my belly.
I’ve been enduring this night, telling myself over and over that I just have to get through it. But what then? Devlin is drunk as fuck, Preston is clearly a sociopath, and Colt… I have no idea where he is or what he’s capable of.
That’s when I spot two adults lounging on plush recliners beside the bar, each with a drink in one hand. They’re wearing matching robes and observing with an air of keen interest. My heart lurches in my chest, and I cross my arms over myself, trying to cover up for the first time since this started. Maybe they can help me, put a stop to this insanity.
“My, my,” the woman drawls as Devlin leads me to the bar. “What do we have here?”
“This is my new dog,” Devlin says. “Don’t worry, she’s house broken.”
The woman throws back her head and titters with laughter.
“The things you boys come up with,” says the man, shaking his head with an indulgent smile.