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Destiny is in a grave behind a church across town, nothing but cold bones now, a skeleton with a skull more battered than mine.
Crystal’s sleeping in a bed in my childhood home with her own children and my brother, who I wouldn’t fight for her, even though she should have and probably could have been mine, if I’d been willing to risk our relationship the way he was, if I’d thought she was worth losing a brother over.
I lost him anyway, and her, and Destiny, and Gloria, who’s at Maverick’s with her sinful, pink mouth that begs so pretty and her hot, wet cunt that sucks at my fingers like it’s as hungry for me as I am for her.
All I have left of her is a pair of panties that have lost the scent of her after too many nights held to my nose while I jerked off, and the nagging feeling that I’m missing more of her than I know. At least I can celebrate this day again, after thinking for three years that I’d never want to do anything but sit at home drinking myself into oblivion in a darkened house with Dad on New Years.
Now I’m here, where none of that matters. Nothing matters except the burning heat in my limbs, the burning ache in my groin, the need clawing up inside me like a hundred cravings all rolled into one. Nothing else exists. There’s only Dixie, and Dixie, and Dixie.
I push her away, breathing hard. The fire’s died down, and half the people who were here when we started are nowhere to be found, probably off fucking the Lady Alice out of their systems in cars parked haphazardly in empty driveways and on the sides of deserted highways because they couldn’t make it home without release.
“What’s wrong?” Dixie asks, blinking up at me with wide, stoned eyes.
“Where’s Maggie?” I ask, swinging around. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, what time it is, how long I was lost in the girl and the drug and the music still thumping on the rented dance floor. I turn that way and see my little cousin still dancing in her chunky boots, her black dress hugging her curves, along with a pair of arms that have no business being around her.
I storm over, ignoring Dixie’s call, ignoring when she tells me she’s just dancing and to let it go.
I grab Duke’s shoulder, wrenching him away from Magnolia.
“Hey,” she cries. “What the hell, Colt?”
“You’re dancing with this asshole?” I ask. “Did you conveniently forget what he did to our family like everyone else? Or are you just stupid?”
“Whoa,” Duke protests, his words slurred and his movements clumsy. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“She’s my family,” I snap. “I can talk to her however I want. And you need to back the fuck off.”
Duke stares at me, looking so high out of his mind I’m not sure he even knows who he was grinding his dick on.
“You’re such a hypocrite,” Magnolia seethes, shoving me. “You ruin fun!”
“And he’ll ruin your life,” I snap. “Which one’s worse?”
“I won’t have a life if you get your way,” she grouses. “Why don’t you just lock me in a convent?”
“You throw one party, and you act like you’re better than me?” Duke demands. “You really think you’re all that now, don’t you?”
“My family is off limits to you,” I say flatly.
“You’re no better than me,” he slurs. “Just because I stuck by my family, that doesn’t make me the villain. You did the same thing, asshole.”
“I didn’t do shit.”
“Yeah, because you’re so fucking perfect, with your cool tattoos and your cool cigarettes and not giving a fuck what anyone thinks. I admit it, we’re not perfect. We’re all fucked up. But you think your family is full of angels? Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”
“You’re fucked up out of your mind,” I say. “I’m putting Maggie to bed. Don’t drive anywhere. Or do. I don’t care. One less Dolce plaguing this town.”
“See, you’re not such a nice guy as you pretend,” he says. “You think because you just talk shit and don’t do anything, that you’re not as bad. But words hurt people too, Colt.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I ask. “I saw what my girlfriend did to yours.”
“Lo was never my girlfriend,” he says. “And you’re a cowardly little bitch just like yours. Real men fight with fists, not words.”
I just laugh at that. “I tried that, and it didn’t work out so well. Words have so much more power over you, don’t they, Dukey boy?”
“Fuck you,” he says. “You belong with Dixie. You’re just like her. Neither of you do shit, but somehow, you cause the most damage, and then you play innocent because you don’t have blood on your hands. But I bet your conscience is as dirty as mine when you lay down to sleep at night. I hope it keeps you up, thinking about me.”
“It doesn’t,” I growl.
