Bury Me (Willow Heights Prep Academy: The Elite Book 3)

by Selena

  He tenses, as if expecting me to get angry and pull away. Instead, I swallow hard, tightening my fingers in his, never wanting to let go. “I know,” I admit. “My dad would never allow it, though. The men in my family don’t go to therapy. Talking about your feelings is like a weakness in their eyes.”

  “I think it goes beyond talking about feelings. He was fucking kidnapped. I mean, I’m surprised there’s not some kind of court-mandated therapy after that.”

  “Well, he didn’t go to court,” I say slowly. “He didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sure someone told Dad he needed to see someone, but he’s not going to talk.”

  Devlin moves his thumb across the back of my hand in gentle strokes. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset you. I know it’s not easy for you.”

  “For me? Nothing happened to me. My brother—I can’t imagine.” I break off, shaking my head and forcing back the ache in my throat.

  “I know,” Devlin says, winding a strand of hair behind my ear. “But you’re my girl, and he’s not. So I’m more worried how it’s affecting you.”

  “What about you?” I ask, forcing myself to face this truth at last. We’ve avoided this topic up until now. I don’t want to think about him being the boy who confessed to destroying my brother’s life. “Do you have a court date?”

  “No,” Devlin says, sighing. “They ended up letting me go without a charge. They had no evidence against me.”

  “Really?” I ask, pushing up on an elbow. “I didn’t know that.”

  “I would have told you, but when I asked to talk to you when I got home, you dumped me.”

  I wince at the callous way he says that—because it’s true. “I’m sorry, Devlin,” I whisper. “You know I didn’t want to.”

  He squeezes me against him. “I know, Sugar.”

  “So, they only had your confession as evidence for the arrest?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “The fact that I got that text and then took you to the school looking for him convinced them I didn’t know where he was.”

  “When did you find out?” I ask, my heart suddenly thudding in my chest. It’s another question I’ve been scared to ask, but one I know I need the answer to.

  “Where he was?” Devlin asks. “I got it when we were here that evening, but I saw the text about the body first. When you were talking to your dad at the construction site, I saw the other text that said he was at the school.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me right then?”

  “I didn’t want to scare you,” he said. “I should never have run down to the site. It was stupid to upset you like that, and I didn’t want to upset you again if we didn’t find anything up at the school.”

  “So you tried to keep me out,” I said. “You should have known I’d just follow.”

  “I should have,” Devlin says with a small, sad smile. “And I shouldn’t have wanted to protect someone else. You come first, Crystal. From now until always.”

  My heart melts, and a swell of emotion rises in my chest. I’m deliriously happy, and yet my heart breaks for every moment we won’t get, every kiss we won’t share. These beautiful, stolen moments are all we get.

  “Devlin,” I whisper, pressing my heart to his, so he can feel it racing just for him. “Don’t talk like that.”

  He smooths my hair back and kisses my forehead. “I was protecting something that doesn’t matter. The Swans don’t matter. You matter. Only you.”

  “You know your family won’t let us be together any more than mine will.”

  “You’re wrong,” Devlin says. “My dad would never want me to repeat his mistake.”

  “Your family is not just your dad,” I point out.

  He nods. “My granddad doesn’t listen to anyone who doesn’t tell him what he wants to hear. But we’ll make it, Crystal. We will.”

  We lay there in silence for a minute, clinging to each other while the hand of time moves silently, inexorably, towards the end of us. The future and the past are inching closer and closer, ready to collide, to trap us between two impossible choices and crush us under their slow, agonizing weight.

  I try not to think about the fact that his life is planned out the same way his dad’s was. What if Grampa Darling forces him to marry Dolly? What will he do to Dolly if she refuses? To Devlin? Could I stand in the way, refusing to let it happen, if I knew one or both of them would be hurt?

  “What if they won’t let us be together?” I ask, anguish gripping me at the thought.

  “Don’t worry,” Devlin says, cradling me in his arms, his voice brimming with the conviction of a desperate man. “Things will be different for us, Crystal. I promise.”

  “How?” I ask, my throat thick. “What if this is all we get—clandestine evenings when no one is around? Is that enough for you?”

  “It won’t be all,” he says fiercely. “I promise you, Crystal. We’ll find a way to be together. If I have to go against my family, be disowned, and leave my name behind, then that’s what I’ll do.”

  I swallow hard, searching his eyes. “You’d do that?”

  “For you I would,” he whispers, cupping my soft cheek in his rough palm. “Would you?”

  fifteen

  Crystal

  How can I choose between my family and my lover? Between everyone I’ve ever known and loved, the brothers who have protected me, cared for me, fought with me, teased me, picked me up when I fell, and a boy who tormented, teased, and callously hurt me? How can I choose between my own twin, a boy who has been by my side since we swam together in the darkness of our mother’s womb, and one I just met? And how can it be this hard to choose?

  When I walk into lunch the next Monday, my eyes are drawn to the Darling’s table, the way they always are. I immediately spot some drama going on, and nosy bitch that I am, I want to stop and watch, see why three of the Dolls are openly sobbing and clinging to each other. A dart of panic goes through me, and my gaze skips over the group until it lands on Devlin.

  He’s okay.

  He smiles, and my heart skips for a new reason. But I tear my eyes away and glance over to my table. Royal is already there, watching me. I hurry over, pretending not to notice Devlin’s smile, or that Colt is standing in front of the table where the girls are crying.

  “Did you see what’s happening at the Darling table?” Dixie asks, nearly bouncing out of her seat in her excitement.

  “Calm down there, Dixie,” I say. “You’re about to pop out a boob.”

  “Dude, you’re such a buzz-kill,” Duke says, tearing his gaze from my friend’s bouncing chest and aiming a pout at me.

  “Sorry, not sorry,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You’re not supposed to hit on my friends, remember?”

  “Hey, I’m not hitting on her,” he says. “That doesn’t mean I can’t look at her tits.”

  “Um, yeah,” I say. “It does. She has a face.”

  “Yeah, but why would I look at that when her tits are bouncing like they need a dick between them?”

  “I don’t think that would stop the bouncing,” Baron says.

  “Only one way to find out,” Duke says with a grin.

  King and Dolly join us, scooting in at their usual places.

  “That deal’s off, anyway,” Royal snaps at me.

  Oh, right. They didn’t fuck my friends because I didn’t fuck anyone. Now that I’m with Devlin, I guess my friends are fair game. They’re already dating Dolly, anyway.

  “Anything good happening today?” Dolly asks the table.

  I shrug. “Looks like Colt’s dumping the cheer squad.”

  “Oh my god,” Dixie squeals. “Do you think he’ll ask me out?”

  “Are you stupid enough to go?” Royal asks.

  “Stop being rude to my friends,” I say, glaring at him. “Dixie didn’t do shit to you.”

  Royal glares daggers back at me. “When you stop being the Darlings’ cum dumpster, I’ll be nice to your friends again.”

  My face flushes, but I can’t tell if
it’s embarrassment that he’d talk to me that way—in front of my friends, no less—or anger.

  “Whoa,” King says, putting an arm around Royal. I can tell it’s not the friendly type of hold. It’s his silent way of communicating when other people are around and he can’t say, “Get yourself together or I’ll pretend to be supportive while really crushing your ribs with my bare hands.” I’ve never been more glad to have him for an older brother.

  “No offense, but I think you could really use someone to talk to,” Dolly says in her sugary Southern twang. She unsnaps her suitcase-sized pink sequin purse and pulls out a Dr. Pepper. “My whole family went when my dad got remarried. I’d be happy to pass along my doctor’s number. He’s real sweet.”

  “I don’t need a fucking therapist,” Royal says, slamming his fist down on the table.

  I jump, and so does Dixie, who shrinks closer to me like I can protect her.

  “What do you need?” I ask my brother quietly.

  Royal just stares at me, breathing hard, his dark eyes full of such turmoil that I don’t think even he can answer that question. He needs a new family. A father who doesn’t use him like a pawn, a mother who isn’t so busy pretending her life is perfect that she doesn’t even notice, and a sister who doesn’t run off and fall in love with his mortal enemy. He needs us to understand.

  But how can I understand when he won’t talk to me? I can’t. All I can do is be there for him, support him, and love him. And I haven’t been doing any of that. I’ve been selfishly concerned with my own needs, with my own heart.

  “I need you to start acting like my sister again,” Royal says at last. “We’re not the bad guys here, Crystal.”

  I stare at him, my fingers shaking. I don’t know how to say this without hurting him. “What if we are?”

  “Then you’re on the wrong side,” he says slowly.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t take sides,” I say. “Maybe we should all be on the same team.”

  “But we’re not,” he says.

  “The Darlings aren’t the problem,” I say, squeezing my hands around my knees to hold myself steady.

  “What are you saying, Crystal?” King asks, his brows lowering and his expression turning ominous.

  “I’m saying, maybe it’s time to put all this behind us,” I say. “The Darlings might listen if you just talk to them. I think they’re ready to make peace.”

  “And how do you know this?” King asks.

  I tick the reasons off on my fingers, trying to sound more rational than I feel. I’m terrified of his reaction. Royal is unpredictable and moody, but King is steady. He’ll listen to reason. “They’re not fighting you anymore,” I say. “Devlin refused to fight Royal. And you made the team. You’re on. Why keep attacking them? You got what you wanted. Plus, they’re not bothering me anymore.”

  “That asshole still hasn’t given us our parking spot,” Duke says.

  It’s all I can do not to slap my palm against my forehead. “Are you really that petty?” I ask instead. “It’s a fucking parking spot. Who even cares? Park in the one beside it!”

  “It’s not the parking spot,” King says quietly. “It’s what it represents.”

  “That part’s true,” Dolly says. “The Darlings have always had that spot. It’s tradition. Their great grandfather got that spot when his family paid to have the lot paved.”

  “And it belongs to the top donor,” Baron says. “We’re the top donors. They need to accept that and give us our spot back.”

  “It’s not over until they turn over their spot and admit there’s a new rule in town,” Duke says.

  “Or until there are none of them left to admit it,” Royal says. “Then everyone will know the Dolce reign has begun.”

  *

  When I step out of my last class of the day, Dixie is waiting.

  “Did you hear what happened?” she asks, her eyes dancing with excitement. It’s nice to see her so enthusiastic about something again, like she was when I met her. After Colt betrayed her, she was so glum, but she seems to have bounced back. Even though she’s still boy crazy, she’s seemed more confident since our dance routine. Being brave looks good on her.

  “I heard bits and pieces,” I tell her as we head for our lockers.

  “They dumped all the Darling Dolls,” she says. “Took all their necklaces and everything.”

  I spot a couple girls from the cheer squad crying at a locker.

  “You’d think they lost their boyfriends,” I say, a twinge of guilt going through me. “Not some asshole who only drops into their DMs to see if they’re down to fuck.”

  “Being a Darling Doll is better than having a boyfriend,” Dixie says, rolling her eyes. “It means you can date anyone you want.”

  “Except a Darling,” I point out. “They don’t date, right? They just hook up.”

  “Well, you got Devlin,” she says. “Which means it could happen for someone else.”

  “Dixie…”

  “What?” she asks, a defiant tilt to her head. “You were the Dog, and you got Devlin. I could get Colt.”

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t,” I say. “It’s just… Is he treating you okay?”

  “Like Devlin treated you?” she asks. “Listen, I know I won’t be the Dog for long. I’m not dumb. Someone more interesting, more challenging will come along. I’ve got to take what I can get and hope it’s enough to make him fall for me like Devlin fell for you.”

  “Just… Don’t let him walk all over you, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  We arrive at my locker, and I try to ignore Becca and Kaylee, who are standing nearby, casting ugly glares in our direction.

  “She’ll get one for sure,” Becca says. “I hear she’s, like, actually dating Devlin Darling.”

  “But she was the Dog,” Kaylee says, tossing her blonde hair back and making a face at me.

  I roll my eyes and turn to my locker.

  “No one can go from Dog to Doll,” Becca says. “It’s impossible.”

  “They said that didn’t count,” Carmen says, completing the bitchy trio. “That she wasn’t really the Dog.”

  “But her best friend is still the Dog,” Becca says.

  “Yeah,” Kaylee says. “Why would anyone be friends with that smelly old mutt?”

  They giggle in that mean way girls do, and I watch Dixie’s face redden.

  “Ignore them,” I mutter to her. “They’re trying to get to us.”

  “It’s just gross,” Carmen says. “I can’t believe they did that skanky dance in front of all our dads. And some people should seriously know better than to shove themselves into clothes that don’t fit.”

  “I don’t get it,” Becca says. “What makes her so special?”

  “It’s just because she’s new,” Kaylee says. “He’ll get bored with her, and then he’ll give the necklaces back.”

  “I don’t know,” Becca whispers. “Maybe we should try to find out.”

  I turn, closing my locker and smiling serenely at them. “You want to know how I landed Devlin Darling?”

  “No,” Kaylee says with a sneer.

  Becca glances at her friend, looking annoyed, then turns to me. “Well? How did you?” she asks, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial, excited whisper, like she expects me to tell her some big secret.

  “Well, you can start by not being a bunch of catty bitches,” I say.

  “How do we do that?” Becca asks.

  I laugh before I realize she’s not joking. “Look, I told you before, if you want to come to the other side, I don’t hold grudges,” I say. “You can start by apologizing to Dixie, who has more balls than the three of you combined.”

  “Like we’d risk being your friend,” Kaylee says. “You’ll probably be the Dog again by tomorrow. I don’t want a reputation for picking up strays.”

  “Yeah,” Carmen says. “Like they say. Sleep with the dogs, you wake up with fleas.”

  “Maybe if you lose her,” Becca say
s, cutting her eyes toward Dixie. “Since you weren’t a Dog after all.”

  “You still don’t get it, do you?” I say. “You’re so busy jumping when the Darlings tell you to jump that you don’t see how silly all this is. The Darlings said I wasn’t the Dog, so now you’re just going to go along with them, pretending it never happened?”

  “Well… Yeah,” Becca says.

  I shake my head and turn to Dixie. “Let’s go.”

  “Lacey said they’re going to pick more Dolls tomorrow,” Dixie says as we head for the doors. “They’re each going to pick one. Do you think Colt will pick me?”

  “I don’t know, honestly,” I say. “I don’t think you should let them label you and tell you what you are. But I know you have a different opinion on that.”

  “Don’t you want Devlin to pick you?” she asks, widening her eyes at me.

  “No,” I say. “I told him I don’t like any of it. He’ll give his to Dolly. She’s the original Doll, and he cares about her. And I guess whoever Colt and Preston pick will be their girlfriends, basically. I know they don’t date, but once they each pick a favorite, that’s how everyone’s going to see it.”

  “It could be me,” Dixie says.

  I sigh, shaking my head. Just because I don’t share her obsession with the labeling, that doesn’t mean it’s not important to her. “Maybe,” I concede. “I haven’t seen him hanging out with any girl in particular. Maybe they’ll just keep them for a while and give them to the girls they ask out when they’re ready to date someone. I mean, I don’t know why guys would give random girls jewelry, anyway.”

  “Then I’ll never get one,” Dixie says glumly. “Colt would never actually date me. I mean, I could maybe be a hookup girl for him, but he’d never be my boyfriend. I wish you hadn’t told Devlin to get rid of them.”

  “Sorry,” I say. “I thought it was demeaning. Maybe I should have left it alone.”

  I remember the girls crying over it, and suddenly, I’m not so sure I did the right thing. It seemed so dehumanizing to me. But these girls liked being labeled. It made them special. And now I took that away from them.