“The Darlings may have run this town for the last 200 years,” King says. “But there’s a new rule in Faulkner now. Welcome to the Dolce reign.”
“While they’re all living in rentals and fighting with their insurance companies, our dad will take over,” Baron says. “No more obstruction on his building site. No more assholes trying to keep us from owning this place or setting up shop. Preston’s and Devlin’s dads are already facing trials. Now it’s just a matter of time.”
“This isn’t right,” I say, my head spinning. Why was I so stupid as to come on this outing? They might hurt someone. They might get hurt. There’s a reason I spent the first sixteen years of my life hiding my head in the sand. I can’t face the thought of losing one of them, but more than that, I don’t want to know what they’re capable of. They were right—I don’t have the stomach for this. I don’t want to watch my beloved brothers laugh and celebrate burning someone’s house, a house full of history and memories from childhood. I don’t want to hear the callous, casual way they dismiss the possibility that someone might die, as if it’s not even worth worrying about. As if they’re monsters who wouldn’t worry about taking a life to get what they want.
Maybe I didn’t want to know the truth about my family because it’s an ugly truth. Somewhere deep inside, I always knew, though. That’s why I hid from it. I didn’t want to see it because then I’d have to admit that my brothers aren’t just boys doing what boys do. Every one of my brothers is capable of things, has probably done things, I can’t even imagine—and don’t want to.
Baron, with his calculating, brilliant mind, the kind of mind that might see nuclear division and create the atom bomb. Duke is the Joker, a boy with an unhinged kind of hedonism who takes what he wants with no regard for anyone else. Royal, with his brooding anger, who knows it’s wrong but does it anyway. Does having a conscience make him better or worse than the others?
And then there’s strong King, our leader, trying to save us all from ourselves without noticing he hasn’t saved himself, that he’s become a man obsessed with his ambition to be the hero, to be the best, to take the world for us no matter what it costs.
Or… Maybe it’s not his ambition at all. Because there are two more people in our family. One who had enough and checked out a long time ago, even before she had a chance to wash her hands of us. Who lives in her own little Margaritaville in her mind. And though I can’t hold her blameless in that decision—she chose to bring us into this world—I can’t hold her completely at fault either.
Then there’s Daddy. The man I put on a pedestal all my life, who bought my love easily with lies as sweet as his candy, who put a laptop in my hands and a credit card under my nose, who said, “Go buy yourself a nice pair of shoes, the newest iPhone, the designer dress you’ll wear once. Don’t worry about how much it costs, sweetheart. Only the best for my baby girl. I’ll always take care of you.”
And what has he done to take care of me?
He’s taken care of his own ambition. He sheltered me, but I no longer know if it was for my own benefit. Did he only want to hide his own actions? Or was there something more sinister? I remember what Devlin said about arranged marriages, that surely the mafia still had them. Is that why he was so obsessed with keeping me pure and innocent? Not for my safety, but so he could auction me off to some stranger, the bidder who could offer him not the most money, but the most status?
After all, aren’t we all pawns in a game he orchestrated to feed his ego and his insatiable hunger for revenge against a slight to his pride? My brothers are doing this not to help themselves, but for him. They’ve already made the football team. They’ve gotten the parking spot. They’ve even gotten the Darlings to stop fighting them, thanks to me. They’re exactly where they want to be at school. This has gone beyond us. Why would my brothers care about taking down an old family, a bunch of adults? Burning their houses, ruining their name in a town? This isn’t for us. This is for Dad, who sits at home sipping a scotch and watching the ball drop while we do his dirty work. He’s the gamemaster.
“You don’t have to do this,” I blurt out as we pull up to a house and the charge of excitement builds again.
“Suck it, Preston,” Duke whoops, hopping out of the car without listening to what I have to say.
“You have no reason to ruin anyone’s house, let alone their lives,” I say, rushing ahead even though they’re not paying attention to me anymore. They’re caught in the madness of mayhem, the seductive danger of their plan. “What did Preston’s dad ever do to you? For that matter, what did Preston? You broke his arm. You took his spot on the team. You ruined his future. Isn’t that enough?”
This time, Royal stays in the car, keeps it running. There are lights on upstairs in some of the bedrooms. I remember Preston’s sister, all skin and bones, clinging to Chase’s arm. Is she in there? Is he? Will they get out?
“You have to stop,” I yell, lunging for the door.
Royal taps the lock, trapping me inside. “You wanted the truth,” he says, his voice cold. “You said you could handle it. We’re only on the second house. We’ve got a half dozen more. And miles to go before we sleep, miles to go before we sleep.” He chuckles, the coldness of it sending a chill down my spine.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say. “Why are you hurting people for Dad? You don’t even like Dad. You’ve always known the truth about him, haven’t you? You’re the one who doesn’t buy into this, Royal. Why are you going along with it?”
The other three come barreling into the car, Baron pushing me back across the seat and sandwiching me between him and Duke. Trapping me.
Royal takes off, peeling away from the house, but not before I hear screams as the door flies open. I have only a single glimpse of a woman’s figure silhouetted in the doorframe before we’re gone.
“Did you see that lady jump like a bomb went off when we busted the window?” Duke asks, laughing as he falls back against the seat, his muscles vibrating with adrenaline beside mine.
“Two down,” King says. “Five to go.”
Five. Maybe I can convince them to stop before they do them all.
“You’re going to get arrested,” I try. “When every single Darling house gets targeted, they’ll know it was us.”
“No family gets that powerful without making enemies along the way,” King says.
“There’s no reason for it,” I plead. “You’ve already won. Let Dad fight his own battles.”
“Weren’t you the one going on about family earlier?” Duke asks. “We stick together, sis. We’re Dolces.”
“Yeah we are!” Baron says, reaching across me to slap hands with Duke as we arrive at the next one. There’s a gate to the neighborhood, and at first I’m relieved, thinking maybe this house will be spared. But Royal punches in the code with his gloved hand, and we pull through.
“They’ll have your car on camera,” I say, trying desperately to deter them. “If they know this one is you, they’ll figure out they were all you.”
“Don’t worry so much, little sis,” Duke says, squeezing my knee. “Dad’s made friends in town.”