“Do you know it wasn’t?” Royal asks, watching me in the rearview. “Is there someone else it could have been?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I don’t know anything about any of this shit.”
He and Duke exchange a look, and I want to scream in frustration because I’m missing something, and I fucking hate not knowing what it is. I have a secret that could destroy Royal, but he has so many more, and he never shared any of them with me. We’ve been together for months. I got arrested for them, proved my loyalty to him in that basement. I go to his games, fuck him every way he wants, hang out with his friends. I’ve done everything, and he’s had my back for it, but he’s never trusted me.
If he’s not Mr. D, how does he know I can’t be trusted?
“It was Preston,” Duke says. “He’s still pissed about what we did to his house.”
“Lindsey’s our best shot,” Baron says. “She’s his sister, and she’ll break in five minutes.”
They’re right. Lindsey’s weak. Maybe all the Darling women are. Maybe that’s why the Darling men pick them. I remember her mom shrieking as they carried her out. I remember what Baron said about the others—two in a mental institution, one dead by suicide. This has to end.
And not just for the Darlings. It has to end for everyone. These boys need help. They’re out of control, and they’re not just destroying the Darlings. They’re destroying themselves. I remember Baron’s unaffected tone when he described what they’d done, how desensitized he is by the whole thing, so he doesn’t even see that it’s wrong. Maybe he really is a sociopath, and he doesn’t know it’s wrong. But Duke does. His constant binge drinking tells me that—he thinks he can numb it all away, and he does a good job of it. And then there’s Royal, with his empty, dead eyes that I almost never see anymore.
He needs help more than anyone.
It’s been four months since he beat up Colt, four months since he’s had to see a Darling around school. The Darlings kidnapped him, and I totally get wanting revenge. I understand the need for vengeance as much as the next person, but at some point, you have to move on and let go of the fantasy. At some point, you have to let something else matter more. At some point, Royal’s revenge became just another one of his self-destructive tendencies. He’s not just hurting the Darlings. He’s hurting the Dolces—himself and his brothers.
“And if Preston doesn’t come out, or he’s not even in Faulkner anymore, you ruined his sister’s life for nothing?” I ask, keeping my voice steady even though I want to knock some sense into all three of them.
“Then it was Colt,” Royal says. “I hear he’s home from the hospital with a pretty new face. If he’s stupid enough to fuck with us, he deserves to turn around and go right back in.”
No. Fuck no. And fuck all this. I’ve had enough.
I’ve done a lot of things this year I’m not proud of. I’ve wondered if I’m even a good person, if Royal’s darkness and the rottenness of their rich world has made me into a person I don’t like very much. After all, it’s my own ambition, my drive to stay at their elite school, that’s behind every bad thing I’ve done.
But this is where I draw the line.
It’s one thing to hang out with thugs with criminal ties or to ruin a house. It’s bad enough to fuck the man who nearly killed my friend or to hear what they’ve done in the past. This isn’t their past. This is now.
And it ends now.
“Don’t look so freaked,” Duke says, turning around in the seat and winking at me. “We won’t kill her. We’ll just have some fun with her until her brother comes crawling out of his hole to try and be a hero.”
“So you’re going to rape some innocent girl because her brother damaged your car?”
“You make it sound so barbaric,” Duke says with mockery in his voice.
“It is.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Baron says. “But this is the language the Darlings understand. Sure, it’s a little primitive, but it works.”
“People have been doing this shit since Viking days, baby,” Duke says. “We’re all just marauders, aren’t we?”
No.
No, we’re not. I wanted to get in with the Dolces, to be their friend and accepted into their boys’ club. But I’m not participating in this. It didn’t feel right to wreck their house, but to wreck a person… That’s way beyond a line I’m willing to cross. Especially when that person has done zero wrong and doesn’t deserve this in any way. Just because she happens to be born into a family they hate, that shouldn’t make her a target. I don’t know her feelings about being a Darling, but I can’t help but remember Colt’s story about what they did to his sister. Fuck if I’m going to let that happen again.
Royal pulls up outside my house and parks. “Get out.”
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Not your business,” he snaps. “This doesn’t concern you.”
Fuck. I shouldn’t have protested out loud. I should have played along, found out when and where they’re going to take her. Now they know I’m not down for this, and they won’t say anything in front of me. They might even suspect the truth—that I’m planning to warn her.
My mind races through possibilities. I don’t know the Darling’s neighborhood gate code, and her house was basically demolished the last time I saw it. I don’t know if they rebuilt and moved back in. Wherever she is, she’ll be staying with her mom—assuming her mom survived, since I never heard otherwise—hopefully somewhere safe. I could try to track her down outside FHS, but I’m not sure what car she drives or when she leaves school. She’s probably already gone home for today, not to mention that my bike is at school, so I don’t have transportation right now. I don’t have her number or the number for any of her friends, since obviously we were in different crowds.