“You know Royal claimed her,” Colt says, his voice low and fierce.
Preston’s tone hardens. “He threw her away.”
For a minute, there’s no sound, nothing but the inaudible crackle of tension in the air.
“It doesn’t matter,” Colt says. “When they claim someone, it’s forever. There’s no way out.”
“He said I was dead to him,” I say.
I want to believe Royal’s done, that he’ll never speak to me again, that he’ll look right through me like I’m a ghost. But after he saw me outside my house, I’m not sure I believe that, no matter how hard I try. He followed me here, which means he wants something. If the torture isn’t over, what then? I’m not a Darling, a girl who can afford to check herself into a swanky resort-style mental facility to hide or blow out of town and legally change her name. There’s nowhere to hide for a girl like me.
“You think I don’t know how they operate?” Preston asks, ignoring me.
Colt glares. “He’ll take more than your eye if he finds out you messed with her.”
His eye that never sees. It clicks into place then. It’s not blind. It’s prosthetic.
“I didn’tmess withher,” Preston says, jerking his other sleeve straight. “I fucked her. Four times a week for months, and every day before that. I came inside her every delicious little hole, and I fucking loved it. What have you done this summer?”
“You know what I did,” Colt growls, his hands balling into fists.
Preston starts rolling that sleeve, his movements jerky and sharp now. “You gave them exactly what they wanted. You bent over. You play nice, but for what? They’ll kill us all, anyway.”
“Not if you play along.”
Preston scoffs. “How many nights did you spend in the hospital, getting how many surgeries, because of those assholes? How much time did you lose? Maybe it would’ve been worth it if you’d been lying there knowing what their girl’s cunt feels like from the inside, with nothing between you but cum. That they could never undo what you got to do to her.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Colt says quietly. “I can’t watch you do this shit anymore.”
“And what would you have me do?” Preston asks. “Get on my knees and suck their dicks like you? I’d rather fucking die.”
“Those aren’t the only options.”
“Aren’t they?” Preston finishes his sleeve and measures that they both stop at the thickest part of his forearm, golden tan with golden hairs glistening on them.
“You could leave,” Colt says.
“No fucking way,” Preston says, yanking the mask off his face and throwing it down on the counter. “This isourtown, not theirs. Enough people in this family have run like dogs.”
Colt sighs. “How long are you going to hold onto that delusion? Devlin didn’t run, and he’s not coming back to save us all. If he was coming back, he would have done it by now. He’s fucking dead. Accept it.”
“Bullshit,” Preston snaps. “No one takes millions of dollars from their trust fund right before they commit suicide.”
I perk up automatically because this is something I didn’t know.
“He didn’t commit suicide,” Colt says, rubbing his forehead with his thumb, like this conversation gives him a headache. From the weariness in his voice, I get the feeling they’ve had this fight before, so many times they both know all their lines. “It was an accident. A tragic, shitty accident with bad timing. That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, no matter how many guys you pay off to keep quiet. You’re not letting them live a happy life. You’re wasting our money.”
“Ididn’t pay them off,” Preston says evenly. “I’m not the only one who thinks they’re alive.”
“You control the money,” Colt says. “And enough with the conspiracy theories already. Yeah, out of the hundreds of people in our family, three of you think he’s alive. That doesn’t make it true. That makes y’all delusional.”
“He said goodbye to us,” Preston says, looking incredulously at his cousin. “Dolly saw him, goddamn it. How can you honestly believe he’s dead?”
“Because it doesn’t fucking matter,” Colt says, throwing up his hands. “Whether he’s dead or not, it doesn’t change anything. He’s not here. We’re here.”
“And I’m not leaving,” Preston says. “They may have beaten us, but we’re not dead yet. We can still fight, if you’d stop being such a pussy.”
“And you’re planning to fight them… How? By putting trackers on their cars and following them around? Fucking their girlfriends in secret? Or do you have some new plan you think is brilliant, but in the end, will amount to nothing more than a spiteful little prank?”