It’s safe here, in the dark. It doesn’t hurt anymore.
Suddenly, I’m dizzy with the realization of how sick this all is—him forcing girls down here to blow him, those things he said that probably some sicko said to him…
“Are you kidding?” Duke asks. “Our brother’s not afraid of anything.”
I can hear the pride in his voice, and it’s sweet, how much he thinks of his big brother. But it doesn’t change how fucked up this is. Maybe it was him that locked me in here with his brothers, knowing what they might do to me.
“He’s the one who wanted to keep the Swans going after the school and the police shut them down,” Baron says. “He wanted to come down here when we all thought it was a bad idea. But he wanted to keep the meetings here.”
“Why?” I ask, too horrified to even think about it.
“Probably to show how little it affects him,” Baron says. “To show the Darlings they didn’t win.”
I’m not convinced. If anything, it shows me how much it still affects him. He can’t let it go, just like he can’t stop going to the bridge, where I’m pretty sure his sister died. Instead of avoiding everything, he revels in the pain of it like a masochist, never letting himself forget. He’s punishing himself, though I can’t begin to imagine what he thinks he did wrong in either instance.
“He’s not going to let that shit own him,” Duke says. “He rules his past.”
“Can I ask you something?” I say after a minute. “When he was kidnapped… Was he assaulted?”
“Yeah,” Baron says. “They beat the fuck out of him. Like, half his teeth are implants. He had a concussion, but he wanted to go right back out on the field.”
He sounds so proud, like that makes his brother a hero. My ribs ache at the thought of Royal needing to prove himself that badly.
“Dad had to find a doctor who would sign off for him to play,” Duke says, laughing and then hiccupping. “He was so pissed the first one wouldn’t. I think he got him fired. Then he found a good one.”
“Now they golf together,” Baron says with a chuckle. “You never know when you’ll need a medical professional. Helps to have all kinds in your pocket.”
A shiver rolls through me. I wonder how much of that fight was Royal’s, and how much was Mr. Dolce’s. This is how they took power. Paying off people to do what they want, bulldozing those who wouldn’t. Nothing stands in their way—like father, like sons. Despite Royal’s resentment, they’re all on the same side, all in it together. Royal is eighteen. He doesn’t have to obey his father or even live there. He could stop going to the Hockington if he wanted, but something keeps him going back. Is it the same thing that keeps him coming back here, some kind of penance?
I clear my throat. “I meant, like, sexually assaulted.”
“Dude, that’s fucked up,” Duke slurs. “Royal’s a man.”
“Men get raped, too.”
“Royal would never take it up the ass,” Baron says. “You really are sick, Harper.”
“Yeah,” Duke chimes in. “How could you ask that about a guy who’s fucking you? Does he seem gay to you?”
“The ignorance of that statement is honestly astounding.”
“Nothing like that happened,” Baron says flatly. “Old Man Darling brought him here, and he was beaten to within an inch of his life, had half his teeth knocked out, his skull fractured, ribs broken, shoulder dislocated… He was starved and dehydrated and all kinds of shit. But don’t even think about anything perverted like that.”
“Because none of that’s perverted,” I mutter.
“Where’s my beer?” Duke asks.
“Did they catch the guy?” I ask.
“Sort of,” Baron says. “That whole investigation was botched from the start, though. The redneck cops around here don’t know how to deal with real problems.”
Or maybe the problems weren’t as real as Baron thinks. Dixie told me that their own sister sent some letter saying it was all faked. But Royal couldn’t have faked that, could he? I mean, I guess he could have let someone beat him up and then say it was the Darlings, but damn. Those are some extreme lengths to go to just to frame someone. But then, Royal’s nothing if not extreme.
And Dixie could be wrong. Maybe there was no letter, and if there was, maybe it wasn’t from Crystal at all but from a Darling trying to get the charges dropped. And here I am, helping them.
“You found him here?” I ask, rubbing my arms, trying to get the goosebumps to go away.
“Has anyone seen my beer?” Duke asks, groping at me until I slap his hand away. His voice is slurred and sleepy, though, and I know we’re about to lose him for the night.