“She’s right,” Royal says. “Let’s get rid of all of it.”
“It’ll go up like a meth lab when the heat hits the tanks,” Duke says, his eyes glazing over with a look that can only be described as pure lust.
“Then let’s get out of here before that happens,” I say.
“I’ll light the match,” Duke says, heading for a stainless steal drum at the far end of the room.
“What about him?” I ask, nodding at Mr. Dolce.
Our attention turns to his limp body for a minute, a silence in which we all come to our own conclusions.
Then Duke lights the match. He holds it, swaying slightly on his feet as he stares at it. Then, he drops it into the basin.
I gulp as a flare of flames shoots up. Duke stands there, transfixed as he gazes at the dancing flames. When I stepped into the kitchen, the smell was like the taste of cocaine—bitter and chemical and harsh. Now, the burning smell is even worse. I cover my mouth and nose with my sleeve.
“Duke,” King barks. “Come on.”
“Huh?” Duke says, tearing his eyes away.
Royal strides over and grabs him, dragging him over to us and herding us toward the door. “Let’s go.”
“Your dad?” I remind him.
He glances back, then shakes his head, his lips tight. “Leave him.”
I open my mouth to protest, to tell them we have all this evidence, that we could put him in prison for life. But I’m not naïve enough to believe it. He’s paid off everyone, and he has enough money to get out of this. There’s no other way to get rid of him permanently and make sure he never comes back.
A wrecking ball is not the only way to destroy a house—but sometimes it’s the best way.
Everyone pauses for a second, the room silent except for a rumble of thunder outside and the crackle of the flames.
Then, one by one, we file out of the kitchen.
Crystal hesitates in the door, the last person to leave. She looks back for another long moment and then turns, letting the door fall closed behind her. We stare at each other for a second, and I think maybe she’s not so bad after all. At least, I’ll give her a chance to prove herself.
Royal slips an arm around my shoulders as we walk out of the restaurant, then out of the mall into the cold night. The fog from all our breath rises, disappearing into the blackness overhead. Tiny, sharp raindrops bounce off our shoulders, but despite the ugly weather, a sense of peace settles over me.
“Who are all these people?” Royal asks, nodding to the small crowd.
“They’re… My friends,” I say. “We were all looking for you. We were scared you’d hurt yourself or that your dad would.”
Royal frowns down at me. “Why?”
“Because they’re your friends, too,” I say.
“I don’t even know half these people,” he says. “And the ones I do…”
“You hurt,” I finish. “When you were working for your dad.”
“Not just then,” he says quietly.
“Well, I think they understand,” I say. “Or at least they’re willing to give you another chance.”
We climb into my car and sit there as the others climb into theirs. I don’t know where Baron went, but he must be on foot or still in the mall. I decide I’m okay with that. If he gets blown up, he deserves it.
“I didn’t want you involved in that,” he says quietly. “This part of my life isn’t pretty, Harper.”
“Shocking as this may be, I don’t expect everything in life to be pretty,” I say with a little grin.