twenty-three
Harper Apple
The evening before school starts back, I hear a knock at the door. My heart lurches into my throat, and my pulse starts racing. My first thought is of the creeper in the Escalade. Mom’s home but napping off last night’s binge, and though it’s not like she’d protect me, being basically alone in the house when he comes knocking makes me jumpy. I think about not answering, but the knock comes again, hard and demanding. If I don’t answer, he’ll kick down the door, and not even my hungover mother could sleep through that.
I grab my knife and shove it into my combat boot before opening the door. Duke Dolce is standing on the stoop. I just about jump out of my skin.
“Hey, Apple,” he says, a flirty grin on his face. “Wanna go for a ride?”
He smells like beer and looks like the shadow of my betrayal. I cross my arms and don’t move from the door. “Not even a little.”
“Fine,” he says, shaking his head. “I was trying to make this fun. But we need you to go make a police report. Of course some jackass called the cops about the Rover the other day. They want any witnesses to make a statement.”
“You don’t say. Someone actually called the cops about a car bomb?”
“A shitty one,” he says. “It only blew up the engine. You weren’t even hurt.”
“You sound disappointed.”
He frowns. “Why would you say that? Royal could have been killed.”
“So, did you kidnap Lindsey? Or let her get comfortable and let down her guard before you make a move?”
“Now you’re catching on,” he says, like he’s proud that I know their scheming minds so well. “We don’t just run back and forth throwing grenades at each other. There’s finesse to these things. We’re not savages.”
“You sure about that?”
“Can we flirt in the car?” he asks. “Royal’s ready to get this over with.”
My heart stops.
Royal. Of course he’s here. Did I expect him to avoid me after the breakup like a little bitch? Royal doesn’t avoid anything painful. He’s even more masochistic than I am.
“I’m sure the cops have enough statements already,” I say. “Just tell them I wasn’t hurt, and I don’t know anything about it. I have homework, so…” I start to close the door but Duke leans into the doorway, blocking it from closing.
“It’s the last night of break, and your bag’s still at our house,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “I know you’re not doing homework.”
“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I’m cleaning the house.”
“Harper Apple,” he says, cracking a smile. “What a cute little excuse.”
He tries to see past me, but I step in front of him. I’m lying through my teeth. I just don’t want to be with them, not just because I’m not exactly excited to be in a car with Royal, but because I don’t know when Mr. D will act.
“Seriously, you’re being weird,” Duke says. “What’s the big deal? You can give the cops your statement and get your bag. You’re going to have to see Royal at school tomorrow anyway.”
“Okay,” I say grudgingly. If I keep making excuses, he’s going to get suspicious. Obviously Mr. D hasn’t exposed them yet, or I’d know about it. And if I act weird now, when it comes out, they might think back to this moment and start wondering. The safest thing to do is to act like I’m just being a bitch about the breakup.
“You know I won’t take no for an answer, anyway,” Duke says, wiggling his brows. “But you can make a scene if you want me to carry you out over your shoulder. That might be kinda hot. Might even make Royal jealous. What do you think?”
“I have no interest in making Royal jealous.”
“Too bad.” Duke he leans around me and cups his hands to his mouth. “Mrs. Apple, we’re borrowing your daughter. Don’t worry, we’ll bring her right back.”
“Shut up,” I say, pushing him away from the door and pulling it closed behind me.
“I could go in and talk to her if you’d rather,” he says, reaching for the door. “I’m very persuasive.”
“You’re not meeting my mother.”