“For what?” I ask, my heart skipping a beat in my chest.
“For being such an unforgiveable bastard,” he says, his hands falling to my hips and squeezing. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve any of it.”
I swallow hard, not sure what to say. That wasn’t what I was expecting. Tears are still running down my face, but my words come out strong. “You’re right. I never asked to be pulled in the middle of your fight. But if you want my forgiveness, it’ll take more than words. You’re going to have to earn it, Devlin. Show me I can trust you.”
His gaze darts to the trap door in the floor as footsteps begin up the steps before it slides back to me. His fingers tighten. “I can do that. I… I think… I care about you,” he says, wincing at his own words.
Holy shit. Is His Royal Highness Devlin Darling getting tongue tied? Forme?
Maybe Nonna’s disgusting coffee trick worked.
I lean forward and press my forehead to his, sliding a hand to the back of his neck. “Me, too.”
Devlin leans in and kisses me once, hard and quick, before pulling away and standing. “Okay,” he says. “There’s something I have to do first.”
I wonder if it’s something to do with Dolly, and jealousy twists in my heart even though I am her friend. Because no matter what I am to him, I can never be what she was.
Before I can dwell on it, Officer Gunn’s head appears. He jumps up into the room with surprising speed when he sees Royal on the floor. He kneels beside him and checks his pulse, and then he calls over a radio for backup.
Then he turns to Devlin. “Where’s your father?”
Devlin shakes his head. “It wasn’t him,” he says, kicking the knife away and holding up both hands. “It was me. I did it.”
thirty-four
Devlin
Crystal’s different. I’d tried to figure it out, but it all came down to the challenge. It wasn’t that it was a challenge to get her. She didn’t play hard to get. I’d fucked her with barely any effort. It only took one night of showing up for her, and there she was, putty in my hands. Maybe not enough people had shown up for her in her life.
But that isn’t my business.
Or maybe now it is. Maybe now I know more than how to get her in bed. That wasn’t hard, but then, I hadn’t expected it to be. What I really didn’t expect was that even after I fucked her, she kept on challenging me. She challenged my authority. My place in this school. She challenged me as a person. And no one’s ever done that before.
Somehow, she figured out how to get me before I figured out how to get more than her body.
And now, all I can do is prove to her that I can be the man she deserves. I just don’t know how I can be that and the man my family wants me to be at the same time. I have to choose, somehow, between my future and my past, between everything I’ve ever known and counted on, and an unexpected, terrifying unknown.
I know what I should choose. But I also know I can’t let a person who helped me take the fall for doing the right thing go down alone. Dad’s the best man I know. If going to jail to protect him makes me half the man he is, I’ll do it. Even if it means turning my back on a future I’d only just dared to imagine. Even if it means walking away from her.
thirty-five
Crystal
“How is he?” Mom asks, sweeping into the waiting room, looking as out of place as a tropical bird that’s escaped the zoo and landed itself in this godforsaken town in the middle of Arkansas. Her yellow cocktail dress shows off her olive skin, and her lipstick if freshly applied.
“Oh, my, what happened to your face? You look positively hideous.”
“Where have you been?” I demand, my voice angrier than I meant. “We’ve been here for hours.”
“I was having cocktails with the neighbor,” Mom says, pouting like a child. “It would have been rude to have my phone out.”
“Come ‘ere,” King says, scooting over to leave a seat between us. “Sit down. Royal’s stable but unconscious right now. Dad’s in there with him.”
“Well, thank God,” Mom says, folding herself into the vacated chair. “I thought I’d be stuck in this backwards town longer. At least I’ve discovered a new cocktail. I can’t wait to share it with the ladies when I get home.”
Rage swells inside me, but Nonna takes my clenched hand and unfolds my fingers, smoothing my hand between hers. My other hand stays fisted around the icepack I’ve been holding on my bruise. My nose is red and swollen slightly, but compared to Royal, it’s nothing. No broken bones, no concussion.
“Are you drunk?” I ask Mom, narrowing my eyes at her.