I roll my eyes. “Wrong. And I’ll tell you how it’s not the same. Because if y’all all raped me right now, you’d probably get away with it. I came down here alone, after midnight. My shorts are short. I was obviously trying to get in good with you. I’m trailer trash, and I should be lucky three rich guys like you are even interested, right?”
“We’re not interested,” Royal growls.
“But that’s what a jury would say. Meanwhile, if someone hurt you, it would be front page news. The horror! The outrage! The monsters would go away for life. No one would ask you why you came to your attackers’ turf, why you were on the wrong side of town. They wouldn’t say, you should know that guys who look like you attract attention, so you must have secretly wanted it. They wouldn’t say you were asking for it.”
“Oh, look, an angry feminist,” Baron says. “How original.”
“Too much truth for your little paint party?” I ask. “You’re three huge guys, you’re rich, you’re white, you’re straight. You’re even attractive and healthy and fit. You literally have every privilege there is. You haveno ideawhat it feels like to be vulnerable.”
“Harper,” Royal says quietly. “Shut up.”
I sigh and stand, brushing rust off my hands. My big mouth probably blew any shot of getting in with these guys, but whatever. I have a voice for a reason. “Look, I’m not saying you have no problems or your life is easy,” I say. “Obviously I don’t know shit about it. And I’m sorry I killed your vibe. So, I’m just going to go now.”
A pair of headlights sweeps into the parking lot, washing over me as I stand atop the train car, making me look about as tall as the fucking Statue of Liberty. My stomach drops, and a second later, a whoop sounds and blue lights flash.
As if this night hadn’t turned shitty enough already. There’s zero point in running, since they have me in their sights, but instinct is hard to deny. So is seventeen years of experience. Cops don’t come to my neighborhood to serve and protect. They come to bust our asses.
Royal grabs Duke and runs, dragging him behind the train cars as Duke stumbles along, his arm over Royal’s shoulder. Baron and I vault the back side of the train car and take off, too. It’s each man for himself when the cops show up.
Except Duke can barely walk, and Royal’s not leaving him behind. Of course not. They’re brothers. They might be willing to leave me on the train car to get myself down, but they’re not abandoning each other. They’re ride or die, all for one and one for all. It makes me hurt inside, the thought of them all being caught because of Duke’s drunk ass.
I hear the cops yelling behind us, but we don’t slow. I catch up to the guys as they stumble into the ditch, and I know they’re not going to make it.
“Get down,” I whisper-shout, grabbing Duke’s arm and yanking him down. They both stumble to their knees, and Royal shoves Duke flat.
A flashlight scans over us, almost catching me and Royal. The twins have gotten down in the filthy ditch already. Royal shoves me to the ground, his weight crushing me as his hard body presses against mine. If we weren’t about to get busted, I’d probably be getting all stupid over him right now. I can feel his heart beating hard and fast against my back as he presses me into the dead grass and dried mud.
“I know you’re there,” calls the cop’s annoyed voice.
Royal shifts his hips against mine, lowering his mouth to my ear. His lips brush my earlobe, and my heart lurches in my chest. “I think I want to fuck you right now,” Royal murmurs into my ear.
“You’re insane,” I say, squirming out from under him. This might be a game to him, but I can’t just buy my way out of an arrest.
“What’s going on?” Duke slurs.
I shush him as I hear footsteps coming closer. I get into a crouching position, ready to sprint away. But then I glance over at the guys. Duke’s eyes are unfocused, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to make noise and give us away at any second. Baron’s face is alive, none of the usual arrogance in his features. His eyes shine with a manic sort of glee, like he gets off on getting nabbed by the police. Royal doesn’t look like he’s playing anymore. His jaw is set as he holds his two brothers low, out of the beam of the flashlight.
We’ll all go down if we stay here like sitting ducks.
“Here goes fucking nothing,” I mutter.
I jump out of the ditch and run back toward the train cars, back the way I came. The cop doesn’t stick around to search the ditch. Maybe he thinks I’m running for my bike to escape or to hide in the cars. Or maybe he just sees someone running, and he gives chase. He slams into me, and I hit the ground hard, my bare knees and palms grinding across the pavement. He shoves me flat, his knee pinning my lower back as he snaps cuffs onto me.
His radio goes off, and he yanks it free to answer it, his knee rammed into my kidneys. “I got her,” he says before holstering his radio. He yanks me to my feet and hustles me around the cars to where the beer and paint are lit up by the strobing blue lights.
“Apple, is that you again?” asks a familiar, strongly accented voice.
“Hey, Officer Gunn,” I say, waving my fingers even though he can’t see them behind my back. “How’s Maisy?”
Hey, I’m a southerner, I can’t just see somebody and not ask after their family, especially since we were in the same class for the past few years at FHS.
“She’s fine,” he says. “She’s applying for art schools for next year.”
“Cool,” I say. “I meant to go down to the gallery and see her show this summer. I heard it was amazing.”
“How’s your mom and them?” he asks, sounding weary. He picked me up a few times in my graffiti days, and he was probably thinking I’d reformed.
“Just peachy, thanks for asking,” I say, giving him a feral smile.