Betray Me (Willow Heights Prep Academy: The Elite Book 2) Page 2

  Maybe Devlin’s douchebaggery comes from the other side of the family.

  “Now, that’s not necessary,” Officer Gunn starts to protest to Mr. Darling. “And you know your father…” He looks both guilty and nervous, as if someone might be secretly recording his words to use in court against him.

  The corners of Mr. Darling’s mouth tighten. “We don’t mind,” he says. “You have my permission. Anything we can do to help.”

  Right. Of course the police know the Darlings. They know they have nothing to hide because they’ll help them hide it. The cops must be in their pockets. They run this town. Everyone has told me as much. Suddenly, I see how hopeless this is, and it’s all I can do not to break down in sobs in front of Devlin and his whole family. But I won’t. Not because Royal doesn’t deserve my tears, but because Devlin doesn’t deserve to see one blink of true emotion from me. I gave him everything. I won’t give him this, too. I won’t let him witness another weak moment from me.

  “No need to go searching anyone’s property,” Officer Gunn says. “But if you don’t mind, son, is there anything you can tell us that we might not already know?”

  Devlin’s eyes snap away from the horizon for the first time, and I know he wasn’t as uninterested as he looked. He’s alert, even if he was staring off, pretending not to care what was happening. He turns his attention to me. His gaze rakes down my body with obscene thoroughness, as if he’s still seeing me lying naked on his bed, offering myself up like a sacrifice.

  “I don’t know anything about it,” he says, a smirk toying with the corner of his lip. “I wasn’t here last night. I was with Crystal… All… Night.”

  Now I see it all so clearly. I sacrificed my virginity to be his alibi.

  The weight of his words sinks in slowly, and I watch King and my father stiffen.

  “Crystal?” Daddy says.

  I nod once, my face flaming with a mixture of embarrassment and pure, incinerating hatred. I stare at the ground, at my feet clad in a pair of designer heels that once meant something to me, even if only an escape, a momentary high when I punched in the credit card number and hit Pay. The pointed toe of my shoe aims like an arrow straight at a single drop of blood.

  My head swims, and I sway on my feet. Someone’s going to pay for this, alright. Maybe all of us. But we won’t be the only ones. I won’t rest until my brother is back with us, and the Darlings are broken worse than I am, crushed into a thousand tiny pieces, exposed for the filth they are. I will make them wish they’d never heard the name Dolce. If it’s the last thing I ever do, I will make them pay.

  three

  Crystal

  Royal is the better part of me. I need him more than ever right now, when it feels like the better part of me is gone, like everything good in me was a lie. What if it was all a lie, the Dolce daughter, the mafia princess, the good sister. What if that was never me at all? Maybe Royal’s goodness made me believe, but now I can see clearly. Now I can see the truth. What if I was always bad, so evil that I made another girl’s life so unbearable that she didn’t want to live anymore? What if this is my punishment?

  “Crystal, put your phone down,” Daddy says, stepping into the kitchen and closing the door behind him. “You got some explaining to do.”

  I shove my phone away and fight the urge to cover my face and hide. I’ve been sitting at the table with my brothers for fifteen minutes, waiting for Daddy to finish with the cops.

  Now, I watch as the police follow the Darlings across their lawn. Relief washes over me. I know they’re not going to find anything, that Mr. Darling isn’t stupid enough to invite them to search his house without a warrant if there’s anything even slightly suspicious in there. Still, it gives me a bit more confidence in the police force around here. They’re covering all the bases.

  And if I’m being completely honest and unbiased, I don’t think Mr. Darling is involved. Sure, he seemed tense around my dad, but Daddy can be intimidating. He’s tall and dark like my brothers, and he’s got a commanding presence that has me sinking lower in my chair and wanting to disappear.

  “What’d the cops say?” King asks, watching them enter the Darlings’ house next door.

  “They don’t think a crime’s been committed,” Daddy says. “But they’re going to follow up on any leads we gave them.”

  “Royal wouldn’t run off like that,” King says, shaking his head. “Not without telling me.”

  Daddy sits down at the table and turns to me. “Now what’s this I hear about you and that Darling boy? You been sleeping with the enemy?”

  “No,” I say quickly. “I wasn’t—I haven’t been… It was a mistake.”

  “A mistake?” he asks, his glower growing more fearsome by the minute.

  “Do you like him?” King asks incredulously. “Devlin Darling? I thought the plan was to replace them, not hook up. What were you thinking?”

  “I wasn’t,” I say, tears threatening behind my eyes. I should have known better than to give in to what I wanted. I should have known that I couldn’t stop being a Dolce daughter for even a single moment. That my actions, my choices, would be scrutinized and discussed at the table like it’s family business. I should have known that no one would ask how I’m feeling, or what I want now. The only person who would have asked that is gone.

  The men in this room are family, and I love them, but they only see how this affects the family. The don’t care that it’s my body and my decision. They don’t agree that it’s my decision. All they see is how this will look, how it reflects on the Dolces. Dolce daughters don’t spread their legs for random boys. Especially not Darling boys.

  Though I can guarantee no one ever sits Duke down and has a talk with him when he hooks up with a different girl every night. No one ever stages an intervention when Royal wants to come dragging home at four in the morning with a black eye every other week.

  “Do you like him?” King presses.

  “No.” I draw a long breath through my nose, staving off the tears that want to fall. “I don’t like him. It just happened. Once. Last night. It’s never happened before. I swear.”

  “Last night,” King says, narrowing his eyes at our twin brothers. “And where were you when all this was happening?”

  “It was a party,” Duke protests. “We weren’t watching every second.”

  “You should have been watching,” Daddy thunders, slamming a fist down on the table so hard I nearly jump out of my chair.

  “She’s our sister,” King says. “You couldn’t stop thinking with your dick for one minute and check on her?”

  “We were with Dolly,” Baron says, as if that explains everything.

  Daddy’s face goes even redder, and his voice lowers to a dangerous pitch. “The mayor’s daughter?”

  “Before you flip out on us, we got her on our side,” Duke says, holding up a hand. “She told the Darlings to fuck off this morning, and we drove her home and kissed her goodbye like gentlemen. I even got her number. I’m really going to call her, too.”

  “Okay,” Daddy says, lowering his head and rubbing between his eyebrows with his thumb. “That better stay the case. I warned you not to get involved with her. Since you went ahead and did it, anyway, you’re going to have to face the consequences of that decision for the next few months.”

  Oh, yeah. Daddy’s pissed. He knows how fast Duke goes through girls, and if he’s making him stay with one for a few months, he knows exactly how severe a punishment that is.

  I wait for mine, pressing my hands together and squeezing them with my knees to keep them from shaking. Daddy looks at me for a long minute, a calculating look in his eye that makes me feel less than human, like a commodity. I can see the mafia face that terrifies people into bending to his will. The wait is worse than any sentence can be.

  “Did you take a shower after being with that boy?” he asks at last.

  “What?” I ask, my face warning under the intense stares of all those boys. Those boys who do this all
the time, who have done what Devlin did to me to so many girls I know they’ve lost track. I suddenly feel dirtier than I did when Devlin told me I was just a pawn in his game. They all know what I did, what he did to me. They’ll never look at me the same. I’ll never be their sweet little sister again. Now I’m someone who’s had a cock inside her.

  “Well, you don’t like him,” King says slowly. “So, you must not have wanted to have sex with him.”

  “No,” I start, shaking my head because it wasn’t like that.

  “So, he forced you to,” Daddy says.

  “No,” I say again, shaking my head harder.

  “Well, which one is it?” King asks.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” Daddy says. “King’s going to take you to the hospital to get an exam, since I can’t trust these two boneheads to look after you. I’m going to go talk to that policeman while he’s here, and if he doesn’t make an arrest, the twins will take care of that bastard tonight. You’re going to be okay, sweetheart.”

  He reaches out and takes my hand, and I don’t see disgust and disappointment in his eyes. I see sympathy, and it’s addictive. For one second, I think about what Veronica would have done, what they want me to do. It would get me what I want. It would ruin the Darlings.

  But just considering it sickens me. Knowing I’m the kind of person who thought about it for even a second sickens me even more. I pull my hand back, hide them under the table, pressing my palms down on my thighs.

  “He didn’t rape me,” I say. “I wanted to do it, okay?”

  They all stare at me, and the sympathy disappears from their eyes. I drop my gaze and swallow hard, unable to look at them.

  “You were wasted last night,” Duke says. “We all were.”

  “It—it wasn’t last night,” I say, my face heating at having to give any detail to a room full of men when it’s none of their damn business. “It was this morning.”

  Baron reaches over and takes my elbow, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know it’s scary, but we’ll get through this, Crystal. We’ve got your back. You can do this.”

  “I don’t want to do this,” I say, yanking away and balling my hands into fists. “Don’t you get it?”

  They all stare at me again, obviously not getting it at all.

  “Why the fuck would you want to have sex with Devlin Darling?” King asks, his voice hard. I’ve heard him use that voice before, but not with me. Never with me.

  “I’m sorry I’m not your perfect little angel,” I say. “I’m sorry I’m not your little girl anymore, Daddy. But I’m not. I’m not a kid, no matter how much you all treat me that way. I’m the same age as all of you. And none of you are anywhere close to pure, so why do you expect me to be?”

  No one speaks. I sit there another minute, fighting to get myself under control. When it’s clear that no one has anything to say to me anymore, I stand. I take a deep breath and start for the door. In the doorway, I stop and turn back.

  “I’m not pressing charges. If the Darlings did something to Royal, I will personally bring them to their knees, but I’m not going to lie and say something happened when it didn’t. Because it didn’t. And if any one of you can tell me you’ve never hooked up with someone and later realized it was a mistake, you can come and lecture me some more. Otherwise, I’m done talking about it.”

  In my room, I cross to the door and step out onto the balcony as if drawn by some invisible, magnetic force. I stare across the space between our houses, my eyes fixing on a figure standing at the black railing of their balcony. For a second, neither of us moves. We’re too far apart for me to read his expression, but I swear I can feel the caress of his heated gaze on my skin.

  I turn away, step back into my room, close the balcony door, and pull the curtains all the way shut.

  four

  Devlin

  “We’ve got a problem,” I say into my phone, watching from the window as Dad walks Officer Gunn to his cruiser.

  “Is it something that can be cured by six to eight weeks of antibiotics?” Preston jokes.

  “Not now,” I snap.

  “What’s up?” Colt asks, yawning through the phone.

  “The cops are here,” I answer.

  “The cops?” Preston asks, disdain in his voice. “What do they want?”

  “They want to know where Crystal’s brother is,” I answer. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

  “Now he’s Crystal’s brother?” Preston asks. “Damn, man. Say it ain’t so.”

  “You got the hots for your dog?” Colt asks. “I mean, shit, I don’t blame you. She’s hot. I’d do her.”

  “Focus,” I growl.

  “Whatever you say, Captain,” Preston says, but I can hear laughter in the bastard’s voice. “I’ll let my dad know, and he’ll tell Gramps.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I ask, hooking a finger in the curtain and pulling it back to see out the window. This time, I’m not looking down at the policeman and Dad chatting like old friends. Officer Gunn is solid. I’m not worried about him doing anything shady. What I’m worried about is the fact that I have no fucking clue what angle the Dolces are playing this time. Fucking Crystal was supposed break them, and send them slinking back to Manhattan like they did the last time.

  I thought it would be over, that we’d win, and I could stop doing this shit. But we didn’t win. And now they’ve upped the stakes to a whole new level of fucked up, going further than we dreamed they’d go—further than we’re willing to go. I don’t know if there’s anything we can do to protect our family but fold.

  The heavy stone of dread in my gut tells me Gramps would not agree.

  five

  Crystal

  It’s Monday, but there’s no school for the Dolces today. How can I go back to school, walk those halls, face the people who have hurt me, without my strength, my comfort, my anchor? Without him, I’m untethered, unmoored, a ship lost at sea.

  The next morning, Royal has not returned. Our property, as well as every property in our neighborhood, has been scoured by policemen and volunteers and dogs. There is no sign of Royal except the single drop of blood.

  “Until we know it’s his, we still don’t know there’s been a crime,” Baron points out.

  None of us speak, no one wanting to admit his words might be true. If it’s not the Darlings, we have no leads. No hope. If there wasn’t a crime at all, that means Royal left us. He wouldn’t do that.

  Would he?

  I mean, he couldn’t have been happy we ditched him at the dance, even though he had a ride home. He was probably pissed. And I know what my brother does when he’s pissed.

  He fights.

  If he found a fighting ring around here…

  What if they were rougher than the one in New York? What if he didn’t know what he was getting into? And shit, how many times have I told him he’s going to get himself killed? One wrong hit, one person who gets carried away…

  What if he’s lying in a hospital somewhere with amnesia? In a coma?

  What if he’s the one who got carried away, and he beat someone to death, and the locals at the fight retaliated and killed him?

  The front door slams, making us all jump. I swear I smell her perfume, lavender and jasmine, light and sweet, a second before she steps into the room. “There you are, darlings,” Mom crows, throwing her arms around King first.

  “Mom,” I say, surprised at the lump in my throat. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, your father tells me Royal’s gone and got himself into some mess again,” she says. “I should have known he couldn’t keep you kids out of trouble by himself. Why, a month into the attempt and he’s lost one of you.”

  She laughs, and suddenly, the sentimental fantasy that Mommy is here to make it all better evaporates at the rude reminder of what my mother is really like.

  “It’s not funny,” I grit out. “He could be dead.”

  “Oh, d
on’t be dramatic,” says the woman who kept her visit a secret so she could surprise us by walking through the door. She probably wants us to fall all over ourselves with joy. Because of course this, like everything, is all about her.

  She turns her cheek to collect kisses from my brothers as they embrace her, then steps over to pull me in for a hug and an air-kiss, as if there are hidden cameras on us at all times.

  Welcome to being a Dolce Doll, I think. The Darlings might use that term to denote their fangirls, but our family embraces it like that’s what we are. Especially my mother. I can feel the bonds of my name tightening around me like corset strings cutting off my breath. But I smile and return her air kiss, my programming roaring back to life at full force. Never lose face. Never lose control. Never cry or show real emotion. Emotion is a currency, always calculated, shown in exact proportions at the correct times to get what one wants.

  “Now, what are you four doing home in the middle of a Monday?” she asks, giving two quick snaps of her fingers behind her as the housekeeper struggles through the door, heaving her oversized Louis Vuitton luggage inside. She’s breathing hard, as she must be over seventy years old.

  “Where should I put these, ma’am?”

  “Oh, just leave them there for now,” Mom says. “I’ll have one of the men bring them up. Now, I’ll need a gin and tonic, and my purse. Where’s the rest of the staff?”

  “Mom, it’s just her,” I say.

  “I’ll take your bags up,” Duke says, snagging them before turning to our mother. “Which room should I put them in?”

  We all wait, holding our breath, for the answer to that question. Are she and Daddy getting back together? Is this stay permanent, or just until Royal shows up?

  “Just set them in the guest room,” she says. “And Crystal, make me a drink. We’re going to have to get some more help here for you kids. Have you been cooking your own meals? Your father tells me the Darlings have three servants, and they’ve only got three people living there.”