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Get it together and stop being such an ugly fucking mess.
I can’t obey the voice in my head tonight. I can barely hear it through the blunt force of this pain.
Cotton decreases the pressure on my mouth so I can draw in shuddering breaths as silent sobs wrack my body. His grip on my arm loosens, bringing it down so he’s just holding it behind my lower back, his thumb stroking gently over the torn butterfly tattoo on my wrist. Pulling my head back against his shoulder, he supports my weight with his strong body. But he doesn’t let me turn away, into his arms. He doesn’t let me stop watching.
“Let’s switch,” Eleanor says, climbing off Rylan’s dick. It bobs up against his stomach, slick and shiny from being inside her, and I nearly choke out loud. He’s fucking her without a condom.
Everleigh climbs off Rylan’s face and kneels up on all fours, flipping her plaid skirt up to bare her ass.
“What do I do?” Eleanor pouts.
“Come here,” Eveleigh says, patting the bed in front of her. “We can make out for him.”
Rylan sits up. “But… You’re sisters.”
Eleanor giggles. “We do it all the time for the Dolce boys,” she points out. “You’re popular now, so we can do it for you too.”
“Okay…” he says, looking doubtful. While my sisters get situated, he glances at the door. Our eyes meet, and he holds my gaze while he kneels up and grips Everleigh’s hip with one hand and his cock with the other. A sob chokes out of me, and his jaw clenches as he pushes his bare cock into her from behind.
Whatever is left of my heart incinerates in that moment. All I see behind his eyes is pure, raw hatred. He’s not just a hurt boy who loves me but is angry. He hates me. He wants to hurt me in the most devastating way. The Dolce boys’ cruelty—Royal’s casual indifference, Baron’s sadistic malice, and Duke’s barbaric relish—could never break through the armor I placed around my heart. They never hurt me this way because I never loved them this way.
When I loved Royal, I loved him despite already knowing what kind of monster he was. I didn’t know what kind of monster Rylan was. I loved him in the purest way, loved the very idea of him, with a love so sweet and innocent it pierced my diamond heart. And now that love has turned deadly, the blade of it slicing through the innermost layer of my armor, the last threads holding me together.
“Please,” I choke out behind Cotton’s hand. “Please let me go.”
“Gotta see it through to the end, babe,” he says, almost apologetic as he gives me a little squeeze.
I close my eyes. I can’t watch anymore, can’t see my sisters making out while Rylan fucks them both. I try to find sympathy for them, the way I always do. I know how much the Dolces have fucked them up too. I know what it takes to be a victor in this town.
But tonight, I can’t find anything left in my decimated heart.
They know what Rylan means to me, even if our love was tarnished and bruised. They know, and they don’t care. As long as he’s popular, they’ll fuck him. Probably to stay in the good graces of the elite circle, to make sure they have someone to fight for them if the Dolces try to toss them out like they did me. I protected my sisters as best I could all these years. I never thought they’d choose popularity over me.
When it finally ends, I’m so numb I don’t even need a cold bath. Rylan climbs off the bed and pulls up his pants, all black with chains and zippers. He walks to the door, and Cotton backs up a step and releases my mouth so I can speak, as if there’s anything left to say.
Rylan stops in front of me, flicking one of his lip rings with his tongue and giving me a cool look. “Now we’re even.”
Cotton releases me, and together, they walk off down the hall.
I stand there watching my sisters grab up their clothes. Eleanor holds her shirt and underwear to her chest and races out on tiptoes, giggling when she passes me. Everleigh pauses and then shrugs. “He’s not your boyfriend anymore, and he’s popular,” she says with a self-righteous little tilt to her chin, like she thinks I’ll argue.
She follows her sister into their room, and I hear them giggling a moment later. On wooden legs, I walk to the bathroom. I stare at my tear-stained reflection in the mirror. I’m a mess. Mom will have a fit in the morning if my eyes are puffy.
I rest my elbows on the counter and lean over the sink until my nose almost touches the mirror. “Get it together, you stupid fucking cunt.”
The words are meaningless now. I’m about to push back when something clicks into the sink. I look down and see one of the little oval pills Colt gave me.
I stick out my tongue and put the pill on it, looking at it in the mirror. Then I dig into my shirt pocket and pull out the other two. He said they were strong, so strong I should only take half. I put another one on my tongue in line with the first, then the last one, forming a neat little track down the center.
Three seems more fitting than half.
Three years in this cursed town.
Three siblings I lost.
Three people in the family mom will have lost when she finds me tomorrow morning.
I try to find the shame in that, in doing this to her after she lost Dawson in this exact way, and Dad in a different way. But I’ve lived for everyone else all my life, and all I have to show for it is regret. At least I can die for myself.
