Damn it. Of course I can’t expect a simple human kindness from him.
“She’s cold,” Colt says with a shrug and that disarming, sloppy smile of his.
Interesting. I wouldn’t have thought he used that on his bros. I thought that was just for everyone else, the face he showed the world.
Even more interesting, Devlin doesn’t push it, just shakes his head and mutters something under his breath that I can’t make out over the rushing wind.
Not sure why I fucking care what these guys are like around each other. I care about staying alive. I clutch the jacket tighter around me, as if it’s armor that can protect me. As if I could keep Colt from taking it back if he wanted to.
Devlin pulls up at a black, wrought iron fence and punches a code into his phone. The gate swings inwards, and we follow a narrow asphalt drive as it winds along the edge of an enormous lawn that could double as a golf course. On our other side are manicured bushes and shrubs flanked by shade trees. Finally, we pull up to a house that looks pretty much like all the plantation style houses in our neighborhood, though the landscaping is more involved, as there is so much land around us.
Devlin stops the car and stares at a little black Prius parked on the gravel in front of the house, muttering curses under his breath. Maybe the help isn’t supposed to park near the front steps.
“What the fuck’s she doing here?” Preston asks, climbing out of the car.
Devlin shakes his head and climbs out, too, so I follow suit, along with Colt. I start to ask what the fuckI’mdoing here, but I stop myself at the last second and watch them, impressed despite myself, as they silently communicate. I can’t speak their language, the one made up of shared glances, frowns, and subtle eye movements. These guys aren’t just cousins. They’rebrothers.
Maybe not in the biological sense, but I know brothers when I see them. I’ve seen my own brothers do this shit. Why am I always on the outside?
Without a word spoken between them, Devlin turns to me. “You need to get your parents under control,” he says, crossing his arms and frowning down at me. “Ours isn’t the kind of neighborhood where people have screaming matches on their front porch. Go back to the trashy part of town if you want to act trashy.”
“Seriously?” I ask. “That’s what you brought me here for? To lecture me?”
“Well, we couldn’t very well trust you not to throw a hissy fit in the middle of the yard like your Jersey Shore mother,” Preston says with a disgusted look.
“Is that right?” I ask, planting my hand on my hip and squinting up at Devlin, pretending to ponder something. “I seem to recall a couple guys fighting on your porch a few days ago. We’re just trying to keep up appearances. I mean, if the Darlings are doing it, it must be theinthing to do.”
“That’s different,” Devlin snaps.
“Oh yeah?” I ask. “Why’s that? Because that was two men?”
“That has nothing to do with it.”
“Really? Then what is it? Because I don’t see the difference otherwise. They were both family matters. Domestic disputes, if you want to get all technical.”
“The difference is that my father was standing up to the most powerful man in Faulkner,” he says, glaring at me.
“And?”
“And your mom is screaming about your dad cheating like some kind of trailer trash that belongs on the other side of town.”
“You’re really something,” I say, a laugh forcing its way out. “I see your family hasn’t changed a bit. Well, guess what? Mine has. Just because you’re too backwards to recognize change, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. Your family might have run the Dolces out of town twenty years ago, but we’re back, and we’re here to stay.”
“Don’t count on it, Sweetie Pie,” Colt drawls.
“Didn’t you learn anything in history, or were you too busy skipping school to bang girls in the bathroom?” I ask, making eyes at him. “You either change with the times, or you become part of history.”
“If changing with the times means letting a bunch of mafia thugs take over this town, then I guess we’ll go down in history as the last assholes to make a stand in Faulkner,” Devlin says. “Sorry, Sugar, but we’re not going to let that happen.”
“Fine,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. I don’t miss the way three pairs of eyes land on my breasts, probably ogling the way my nipples are poking out because I’m so damn cold. “Keep on being rednecks and refusing to admit what’s happening right under your nose. That’s why my brothers will be the royalty in this school by next year, and you’ll be standing over the ruins of your fallen empire.”
“You didn’t tell me she was a nerd,” Preston says with a smirk, studying me like a wolf eyeing a juicy piece of meat he’s about to devour. “They’re always freaks. What should we have her do?”
One glare from Devlin silences him, but I catch the keen interest in Preston’s eyes. He watches Devlin even as his cousin turns to the house when the front door opens. A girl steps out, already turning to pull the door closed as she appears. She’s two steps down the stairs before she halts, her blue eyes going wide when she sees us. She looks vaguely familiar, so she might go to Willow Heights, but I can’t remember where I’ve seen her. She’s slight, waifish even, with a pale blue buttoned shirt tucked into a pair of stylish, fitted khaki slacks that sit low on her narrow hips. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail, and zero makeup highlights her best asset—a naturally pretty face. I feel a ridiculous pang of jealousy when all the guys turn to watch her make her way down the steps, her dainty hips swaying with each step.
She visible cowers when she sees the Darlings in the drive, though.
“What are you doing here?” Devlin demands, taking a step closer.