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“Then give it back,” I say, snagging his cup. I’d forgotten about football, about what would happen in town tonight as it does every Friday. They don’t really care about Royal. Sure, it was on the news when he disappeared. The mayor said if anyone saw “the runaway” to call the authorities. But no one thinks he’s here.

I had forgotten that to the rest of the world, life is normal. All I was thinking was that it’s the last day of the longest week of my life. If I don’t do something to distract myself from the fact that it’s been a week since Royal disappeared, I might implode, my heart turning to a black hole that consumes the rest of me.

“How do you know how I like my coffee?” Devlin asks, taking the drink back. A smile twitches at the corners of his lips even as he continues to eye me with wariness.

“I don’t,” I say. “So drink it black like a man.”

Devlin deftly switches out my cup with his. “You probably poisoned mine.”

“Or drink the fru-fru one,” I say with a shrug. If I’m going to pull this off, I’m going to have to act like I didn’t tamper with his coffee. I force my face to stay indifferent as I take a sip of his plain black coffee. I force myself not to gag as I think about what I put in it. I force myself not to search for a tang of salt or iron in the bitterness.

Thank fuck it tastes just like regular black coffee.

Devlin watches me take another sip of his coffee like he’s waiting for me to fall to the floor and start foaming at the mouth. He takes one drink of mine and chokes. For a second, I think he’s going to spit it back on the table. Then he shoves it back to me and snags the black coffee, taking such a big gulp it had to burn the fuck out of his mouth and throat. The guy doesn’t even flinch. Either he’s practiced the art of swallowing boiling water, or he can endure a shitload of pain.

“What the fuck are you drinking?” he asks.

“A cookies-and-cream cappuccino,” I say. “It’s delicious, in case you hadn’t noticed. It has the perfect ratio of sugar, caffeine, and chocolate.”

“Of course the candy-maker’s daughter drinks sugar like it’s water.” He shakes his head and scowls, taking another drink of his coffee. I try not to stare. Not to act weird as class starts. But I keep watching him from the corner of my eye, waiting for him to taste me in his coffee. Some vicious little part of me thrills each time he takes a drink, knowing that I’m in that cup with the coffee, bewitching him with my feminine essence. A sick part of me wishes he’d notice, that he’d know he was drinking me.

He takes a drink and licks his lips, and a different kind of thrill runs through me. I press my knees together, a breathless ache growing between them as I watch his brooding, masculine profile. I imagine his tongue, his lips on me again, his strong hands pushing my thighs open, the stubble on his chin rasping against my delicate skin. Slowly, from the corner of his eye, he looks at me. And smirks.

I jerk my gaze away and duck my head. Fuck. He caught me staring. He’s so fucking sexy I can’t stop myself. Not two minutes later, I take another peek. This time, he’s the one who looks away quickly.

I watch him drink from a cup that has a single drop of blood, like the drop I found on the driveway the morning after Royal disappeared.

This is for him. Not for me.

I drown my conflicting emotions in the sugar and caffeine of my drink, inhaling every drop and wishing I had more. There’s not enough sugar in the world to make me forget about Devlin Darling.

twenty-five

Crystal

It’s day 6. Is there any use in hoping?7

Midway through last period, I get a note from the office telling me to go to the gym to see Coach Snow after school. I don’t even know who that is, so my suspicions are raised. At the end of class, I head for my locker. King meets me not two steps outside the classroom door.

“Again?” I ask, rolling my eyes. King’s been following me around all day like a shadow.

“If those assholes were real men, they’d fight us like equals,” he says. “They’re three strong just like us now. But they’re pussies who went after our little sister. Until I know it’s safe for you at this school, you’re getting an escort.”

“Okay,” I say. “But don’t you have football practice today?”

“Yeah,” he says. “You can come watch.”

“Actually, I have this,” I say, handing him the note. “Know anything about it?”

He scans it and hands it back with a smile. “Yeah. That’s the cheer coach. Dad must have talked to her.”

“Lovely,” I mutter. I don’t have the energy to fight Daddy right now. If he wants me to cheer, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I kind of miss it sometimes. It’ll take my mind off Royal, at the very least. Doing something physical that requires focus will get me out of my head for a while. And after all the bitches on the squad have put me down, I wouldn’t mind showing up and blowing their small minds.

“I’ll walk you down there,” King says. “Come outside to the field when you’re done.”

We don’t run into any Darlings on the way, but I spot Baron leaning against the lockers, his books tucked against his side in one hand. He’s talking to the girl we saw outside the Darling’s estate. She’s studiously ignoring him as she digs in her locker.

“Wait a minute,” I say, our conversation from the day before clicking into place. “That’sMabel Darling?”


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