I don’t even think about how stupid the next thing I do is. I just undo the chain lock and pull open the door. Preston steps past the girl and yanks me into his arms, squeezing me so hard I can’t breathe.
“Guess it’s the right house after all,” says the girl behind him. “You must be Crystal.”
“Who are you?” Crystal asks. “Why are you here?”
“I’m Royal’s girlfriend,” the stranger says. “He needs you to come home now.”
twenty-two
Royal Dolce
“I’m going to take care of Dad.”
All three of my brothers turn to me. I pick up my beer from the wooden ledge that runs along one wall of the game room and take a drink.
“Take care of him?” King asks, his accent stronger now that he’s been back in New York for a few years, hanging with the old men on the Valenti side. He sounds like a regular gangster. He rests the end of his pool stick on the floor and narrows his eyes at me, waiting for a response.
“Yeah,” I say, sliding off the stool to take my shot. I settle a ball gently in the side pocket.
“Take care of him how?” Duke asks, swaying on his feet.
“How do you think?” I ask, losing focus in my annoyance. I miss my third shot and give his shoulder a little shove. “Line up your shot.”
Duke stumbles to the table and sways as he surveys his options. “Are we solids?”
He’s well on his way to following in Ma’s footsteps. She barely made it through the parade. Now she’s happily tuned out, numbed by enough booze and pills to make sure she doesn’t even dream. I wonder what she’d dream about if she could. Probably a life where she doesn’t even have to see us on holidays. Dad wanted heirs, and she did her duty and gave him five. We’re his problem now—and he’s ours.
“You’re going to kill Dad?” Baron asks, not moving from his barstool. “I don’t think that’s the best answer.”
“I wasn’t asking your permission,” I snap.
King watches me thoughtfully, chalking the end of his cue. “What did he do?”
“You know what he did,” I grit out, glaring back at him. Besides Dad himself, King’s the only one who knows the full truth—or he was before I told Harper.
He nods and follows Duke’s missed shot with one of his own. After sinking it, he circles the table to line up the next one.
“Because he touched Harper?” Baron asks, picking up his sucker. “That’s not really fair. Everyone’s fucked Harper, and Dad’s always part of our Darling revenges.”
“She’s not a Darling,” I growl at him.
“Is that why?” King asks, stepping back after setting me up for a great shot, if Baron doesn’t fuck the table up too bad for once. There’s no chance of that. Baron will clean the rest of the table in one turn, like he always does. That’s why he goes last.
“It’s on the list of reasons,” I admit.
“He’s not the one who told her about the Hockington,” Duke says.
“What?” King asks, his voice low and sharp.
“Shut up,” I tell my youngest brother, turning my glare on him.
He’s too drunk to notice. “Dad’s clients that needed a little push,” Duke says. “He sent Royal to wine and dine them at the best hotel in Faulkner.”
King turns to me, his Adam’s apple moving up and down as he swallows. I want to beat Duke’s ass for that, but he assumes we tell each other everything. After all, we all knew that was King’s job when he was around. Why wouldn’t they all know I took over? Even though they didn’t know about me until Harper told Mr. D, Duke wouldn’t think of that right now. He’s too wasted.
“You’ve been going to the Hockington?” King asks me quietly.
“What about it?” I ask, not dropping his gaze. “You did it.”