“I worry about him,” I admit at last.
“The drinking?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “And the fire.”
“The fire?” she asks. “Like when he burned your neighbor’s house?”
“When he burns anything,” I say. “Or anyone. One of these days…”
“There will be someone in the house?” she asks. “You’re afraid he’ll kill someone?”
“Or himself.”
“Some people like playing with fire,” she says slowly, nodding.
“And people who like playing with fire get burned,” I say, tightening my arms around her. I curse myself for reminding her of home, for taking away her smile like the bastard I am. But just because I will never find peace, that doesn’t mean she can’t. She submitted to me, accepted my claim. In return, I’ll make sure she gets what the wants, too, that she finds her own happiness, even if I never find mine.
twelve
Harper Apple
As the plane angles down toward the Little Rock airport, I can’t shake the Wonderland feeling that’s clung to me all week. Girls like me don’t fly on airplanes, never mind first class. Girls like me don’t get whisked off to colleges or on whirlwind vacations that include sight-seeing in New York City and cozying up at a private cottage on Cape Cod. They don’t dip their toes in the ocean. They don’t go on shopping trips to designer boutiques with personal stylists. They don’t step inside Chanel stores, let alone leave with anything.
And yet, in some world, Royal’s world, a girl like me just did all those things. But I’m not sure if that girl is actually me. All my life, I’ve wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of Faulkner, but now I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. I’m so incredibly grateful for what Royal just did for me, and it’s not that it isn’t enough. It’s that I don’t know if I’m still a girl like me.
I’m being handed my dream on a silver platter, but something in me makes me draw back, makes me hesitate. Maybe all I really wanted was the option, a way out of the trap of my life. Now that I can come and go as I please, do I still want to leave Faulkner?
This town is fucked up, and I don’t know if I’m the kind of girl who walks away from a mess, even if it’s not one of her making. Faulkner is my home. Can I turn my back on it now, when it’s falling apart, and leave it to its fate in Mr. Dolce’s hands? Can I move to New York and live my own life and never think of it again, never wonder about those I’ve left behind? It seems selfish to flit off and live my best life, knowing people here are still suffering.
I think about it all the way back to Royal’s house, where I left my car. When we turn into his neighborhood, I find myself humming “Back to life, back to reality.” In what feels like another lifetime, I remember Colt singing that song as we pulled up to the school after spending the afternoon at his house. That was the day Royal almost killed him. The day he claimed me at the river, told me I was his.
I barely knew him then.
Now I know every secret this terrible, brutal boy contains, and somehow, I still love him.
“Thank you,” I say, turning to him as he shuts off the car. “I don’t know how to thank you enough. This whole week felt like a fairytale.”
“You can thank me on your back later, Cherry Pie,” he says, pulling me across the console and kissing me roughly on the mouth. “I’m not sure I can make it more than a day without fucking you now that I’ve had you to myself every day.”
“Somehow I think you’ll manage,” I say, smiling through our kiss.
“I think you’ll manage to be here tomorrow,” he says, gripping my shirt when I try to pull back. “Unless you want me to fuck some Thorncrown bitch while I’m thinking about you.”
“Fuck you, Royal,” I say, jerking back.
“That’s the plan,” he says with that asshole smirk that infuriates me so much I want to scream.
“If I mean that little to you, that you’d go fuck someone else if I won’t come over, then go right ahead,” I say. “See what happens.”
I climb out of the Rover and slam the door as hard as I can. Royal’s laughing when he gets out, transferring the two suitcases of clothes into my car. When he tries to pull me in for a goodbye kiss, I shove him away. “Touch me and I’ll break your nose again,” I threaten, holding up my fists.
“Do it,” he says, grinning down at me and backing me into my door. “I’ll use the blood as lube and fuck you up against your car again.”
He grabs my head between both hands and kisses me hard, so hard I feel the bruises already forming on my lips. I twist against him, but he kisses me harder, forcing his tongue into my mouth. Struggling against him, I bite down hard, tasting his blood before letting go. I pull back with a smile on my face.
Royal grabs my hair and drags me back against the car, thrusting his tongue back into my mouth, slicking mine with salty blood. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are heated, his breath ragged.
“If my father wasn’t home, I’d throw you down on the garage floor and fuck you until you screamed for me,” he growls.