“I figured you’d pick Duke,” I say. “Wasn’t he the one who burned you and Preston?”
Colt makes a noncommittal sound and drags on his cigarette before leaning his head back and blowing a few smoke rings toward the bottom of the metal seats above.
I picture Duke holding a blowtorch to his arm, and I’m glad I didn’t eat lunch. Just thinking about the way it must have smelled makes me gag. Every time I think Duke might be somehow human, I’m reminded that he’s just as barbaric as his brother.
“Seriously, though,” I say. “They’ll be gone next year. You know they won’t stay in this town once they graduate.”
“I heard they’re getting scouted pretty heavily for college ball next year,” Colt agrees.
“And Royal’s leaving, too,” I confirm. “Which means the only Dolce left will be their dad.”
“I’m sure he’ll pay off some thugs to keep us in line after they’re gone,” Colt says. “He won’t stop until our family is in his pocket, too.”
“You think he’ll stop then?”
“Of course,” Colt says. “Once they beat us, they don’t care about destroying us. Why do you think I’m still here?”
“Then I guess you must be pretty pissed at me for getting Magnolia involved.”
“I didn’t want her to go along with their rules,” he says, giving me a funny look. “They’d rape her and shit. We didn’t figure she’d make it through the year, but we wanted to try, now that Royal’s gone. I was supposed to be protecting her. I’m the one who fucked up.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say. “I never should’ve called her to our table.”
“I was sitting right there,” he says. “I could have stopped her, but I thought it might be helpful, that I could keep an eye on her. Maggie’s our cousin, but she’s kind of everyone’s kid sister—in the good ways and the bad. The minute she knew I was watching over her, she’d have rebelled like a brat and done everything to escape my sight.”
“She does seem to have a mind of her own,” I concede.
We smoke in silence for a minute.
Colt finishes his cigarette and tosses the butt in the bare, packed red dirt with the rest of them before pulling out a joint. “She’s a good kid,” he says. “I’d worry about her even if the Dolces weren’t around. She’s too pretty for her own good.”
“Is that why you’re really out here?” I ask. “Are you mad at Dixie for releasing that video?”
He takes a drag on the joint and coughs a few times before answering. “It’s nice to see the demon twins taken down a peg,” he says when he recovers. “But I’d rather it hadn’t been my cousin with the phone in her hand.”
“Is she grounded from her phone?” I ask. “Or am I allowed to text her?”
“Why would you want to?” he asks. “She’s fourteen.”
“She’s my friend,” I say with a shrug. “Would you be mad if I texted?”
“Are you going to fuck her?”
I laugh at that. “Uh, no.”
“Then you can text her,” he says. “Thanks for asking me first, though.”
“Gotta respect the southern, overprotective older brother tradition.”
He grins and hands me the joint. “Don’t get her in any trouble.”
“No promises,” I say. “But I can promise I’ll involve you first when said trouble arises.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re plotting something?” he asks.
“I’ve got a few ideas marinating,” I admit with a grin. I take a drag and hand back the joint. “So, which of the Darlings are in Tony Dolce’s pocket?”
“None of us,” he says, giving me a funny look. “He tried to get to us through the Delacroixs, but they told him to fuck off when he wanted to buy the land over by the mall, and now they’re on his shit list, too.”