Jackpot. This fucker can pretend I don’t affect him all he wants, but this shit was too easy.
Chase lifts his hands from where they were resting on the edge of his trunk. “No hands,” he says. He doesn’t sound scared, though he should be. He’s not being a smartass about it, at least. He sounds guarded and direct, just stating the facts. A few other students have crept over, anxious to see the fight, I’m sure. Good. The more people see, the more they’ll talk. For once, I don’t mind.
“This isn’t a lady, anyway,” Colt drawls, gesturing lazily in my direction. “It’s our dog.”
Preston steps forward, getting right in Chase’s face. “My sister, though, she’s a lady. Which is why we’re wondering what you’re doing feeling up our dog when you have a girl like that at home.”
“Just giving her a ride,” Chase says, holding up both hands when Preston steps in like he’s about to deck the poor guy. I’m starting to regret what I did, even though my heart is racing in my chest. I got what I wanted. I got Devlin to show his hand.
All’s fucking fair.
Preston grabs Chase by the front of his jacket and hauls him forward from where he was still leaning on the car all casual. “What are you playing at, London?” Preston asks, giving the guy a shake. The handful of onlookers has turned to a crowd, and they strain forward, ready to see the beatdown.
“Not playing,” Chase says, sounding a bit annoyed by the harassment.
“And you won’t be for a long-ass time if you fuck around on his sister,” Devlin drawls, nodding toward his hand.
Preston grabs Chase’s right hand and twists his wrist around. Chase’s eyes go wide, and he starts to turn to take the pressure off his wrist. Fuck. I can’t let anyone mess up a guy’s football arm. Not even for this.
“Leave him alone,” I cry, jerking forward in Devlin’s grip. “He didn’t do anything. I asked him for a ride. That’s it. He was just being a gentleman and dropping me off.”
“Then why were you kissing him?” Devlin growls in my ear.
“To make you jealous,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. I hear the defeat in it, but I’m not sure who else heard. Maybe just Devlin. Or maybe they all heard, and they’ll go around school gossiping about what a pathetic loser I am.
Like I fucking care.
All the triumph is gone from me. That lasted all of five minutes. He called me his girl, but only his cousins heard. And he forced my hand, so I had to admit that I’m just a scheming bitch like probably every other girl who’s ever tried to land a Darling boy.
No one moves for a minute. Preston’s jaw is clenched, but at last he shoves Chase back against the car. “Pussy,” he says, spitting the word at the public school guy. Chase pops up, flashes a grin at the small crowd, throws a two-finger salute, and hops in his car. The next second, he’s driving off, and the crowd wilts with disappointment. Chase is in the Darlings’ pocket. He’s not going to give them a good fight.
They want something else. They want what my brothers give them. As Duke’s Hummer comes roaring into the lot, a collective intake of breath grips the crowd. They’re about to get what they want.
“Get in the car,” Devlin says, grabbing me by the back of the neck and hurrying me across the lot. “We’re going for a drive.”
He shoves me into the passenger seat and slides across the hood like some action hero stuntman, opens his door, and is pulling out of his spot before I’ve even gotten my door closed. I barely manage to slam the door to keep from falling out as he peels out of the lot.
“What the fuck was that?” he yells, pounding his palm on the steering wheel.
I twist around to see if my brothers are on our tail. They’re not. The crowd is blocking them from coming after us. I twist around to Devlin. “Are you fucking crazy? I could have fallen out the door, and you’d just have driven over me, wouldn’t you?”
He glances at me, his nostrils flared and his jaw still clenched. His eyes burn with rage. “What are you trying to pull?” he asks, his voice controlled now. “Make me jealous? What kind of bullshit lie is that?”
“You think I was lying?”
“Yes,” he says. “So, what were you trying to gain from that little display? What are you after, Crystal Dolce?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Are we negotiating?”
“No,” he says. “Fuck no. Darlings don’t negotiate.”
I’ve heard a line or two like that before. It strikes me that we’re both alike in that way. Stuck in our family’s web, bound by expectation of what we should do and be.
“Maybe you should,” I say. “You might get whatyouwant.”
Devlin smirks, the asshole thinking he’s back in control, no doubt. “I already get what I want.”
And there it is. There is the one problem I can’t seem to solve. Devlin gets everything he wants, including, apparently, me.