“There better not be,” he says, slowly drawing back. “Or I’ll bend you over and prove it right here and now, for all the world to see, Crystal Darling.”
The name makes me weak, and I close my eyes and draw a shuddering breath. I didn’t know how much I wanted my own name—the one that belongs to me and the one that tells the world I belong to him—until I had it.
“Call me that again, and I might let you,” I say.
“Patience, Sugar,” he says, his lips skimming over mine. “I’ll show you later.”
He circles the van and opens the door for me, and I climb in, resisting the urge to slide a hand between my thighs and relieve the ache his touch puts in me.
“Ready?” Devlin asks, swinging into his seat.
“I’m ready,” I say, smiling at him even as my heart is somersaulting. I’m not sure if I’m more nervous, excited, or terrified. Last time I saw Faulkner, it was in the rearview of a car that barely made it across the state line before it crapped out on us. Last time, I was disowned and disgraced and desperate, a girl with no options. Now I’m a woman, a wife, a mother.
I won’t have to wonder for long how my family has changed, either. We’re thirty minutes from Faulkner city limits, having just transferred everything into our new car. We already went to the courthouse to fill out the application to change our names. It’s over.
We’re almost home.
“Do you think they’ll be happy?” I ask. “Or mad?”
Devlin reaches over to take my hand and squeeze it. “They’ll be happy,” he promises. “When I saw Preston, I didn’t care about him finding us or yelling our names down the street. I was just so fucking happy to see him.”
I glance in the back to make sure the kids are sleeping and didn’t hear his potty mouth. Devlin grins when he catches me. “You’re going to be fine, Sugar,” he promises. “We’re all going to be fine.”
twenty-five
Royal Dolce
“Did you see your mom for Thanksgiving?” I ask Harper as we turn into my neighborhood.
“Do you already know the answer to that?” she asks.
“I know you didn’t take your phone with you.”
“You asshole,” she says. “Preston was right.”
“Preston?” I grit out, pulling into our driveway. I ignore the eyesore of charred rubble next door the way I always do. Someone needs to take care of that, though. If they leave it there much longer, they’re going to find Preston Darling’s body mummified in the ashes when they come to take it away.
“Yeah,” she says. “He told me to leave my phone at home because you’d be tracking it.”
“You spent Thanksgiving with the Darlings?”
“With Preston,” she says, reaching over to put her hand on my thigh.
I shove it away, shutting off the engine and turning to her. “Did you fuck him?”
“What is wrong with you, Royal?” she demands. “I’m not going to fuck your enemy.”
“Why would I believe you?” I ask, staring at her, that cold pit opening in my chest like it does every time I’m reminded that I can keep her forever, but I can’t make her loyal, can’t make her want to be with me the way I want her.
“Because I’m not lying,” she says just as flatly, refusing to drop my gaze.
“But you have no problem telling me you’re spending Thanksgiving with your ma, and then going to his house instead, when I’m out of state and you know I can’t do shit about it.”
“You can be pissed,” she says. “But I didn’t fuck him or anyone, and I’m not going to. Ever. You’re it for me Royal. Don’t you get that?”
I climb out of the car and slam the door. The day is cool but clammy with humidity, which made the chill stick to our skin at the river. “You need to go home.”
“Okay,” Harper says, climbing out and coming around the car. “That’s fair. But it’s fair for me to be pissed that you’re tracking my phone, too. How long have you been following me around?”