And I would become a god.
But she was gone.
I couldn’t have predicted that. After all, I thought I, as Mr. D, was her only friend and confidant.
Trust a Darling to come along and fuck it all up. They’ve always been the destructive force, sowing chaos wherever they go. Since Dad was our age, that’s their purpose. The masters of mayhem, the reapers of madness.
Devlin stole Crystal.
Mabel stole Duke.
And Preston stole Harper.
But I’ll have more chances. It was never personal with Harper. She could have been anyone. There’s a whole world full of people, and I’ll use her survival as a lesson. I’ll learn from those mistakes like I learn from all of them.
Don’t fuck with someone once they are loved. Even after what she did, I couldn’t turn the tide. Royal had caught feelings, and they didn’t go away no matter what she or I did. So I gave her back, brought him to her at that party. That was my apology to him.
I don’t owe her an apology. But maybe I owe her a debt of gratitude for all she taught me.
Next time, I’ll make sure it’s someone who won’t be missed, someone that no one loves. An outcast, a loner, someone without friends or concerned family. And I won’t involve anyone who can change that.
I’ll get it out of my system, just to see what it’s like, and then I’ll find Mabel. I won’t kill her. I won’t let her die. Like Royal, I’ll pull her out of the river and force her to live, to endure. She is mine, just like Harper is his. If he gets to keep one, I can keep one, too. If Harper isn’t a Darling, it doesn’t make a difference. Not anymore. Crystal got to keep a Darling, and everyone forgave her.
So I’ll go find Mabel, and I’ll keep her forever, too.
Sparse, fat drops of rain splatter on the windshield as I turn a corner, the Tesla’s headlights slicing the night. And there, like an answer to an unspoken prayer, is a hitchhiker.
She’s walking along the side of the road, a backpack on her back, a beanie pulled down over her hair, only a jean jacket to keep out the cold.
I flash my headlights and then pull over ahead of her. I watch her in the red glow of the taillights. She’s young, around my age. A runaway, from the looks of it. My heartbeat picks up speed as excitement churns in my belly. It’s closer to home than I’d like, but I don’t have to do it here. I can wait a few hours, maybe even cross the state line first.
I hit the button, and the window glides down when she reaches the car. She bends down and peers in, the tips of her shoulder-length blue hair catching the light. She looks familiar, though I can’t place her right away.
“I didn’t expect a car this nice to pull over,” she says, sounding nervous.
“You can wait for a creepy old trucker if you’re afraid to get in a car with a guy like me,” I say, flashing her a grin.
Her cheeks turn pink, and I know there’s no way she’s walking away from this ride. Girls like her don’t turn down hot rich guys.
I pick up the briefcase and move it to the space behind her seat. “Now or never, sweetheart,” I say. “You’re getting my leather wet.”
“Okay,” she says, opening the door and sliding in. She sets her bag between her feet and closes the door, and my excitement pulls tight like a knot inside me.
I roll up the window and hit the accelerator, and the tires purr as we slide back onto the road. “You from around here?” I ask, watching her from the corner of my eye. She smells like cigarettes and sex.
“Faulkner.”
“What part?”
“Mill Street,” she says, glancing at me. “You from there?”
I knew she looked familiar, but that’s when I realize where I’ve seen her. She’s Harper’s neighbor.
“Just passing through,” I say.
“This is really nice,” she says, touching the leather seat like she’s never seen one before. “Thanks.”
“I could use the company,” I say. “Where you headed?”