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“I’d care,” Duke says, folding his hands on his stomach and staring up at the sky. “If you died, I would. I’d care if anyone died. Life is all we have, and we never even think about that.”
“I think about it all the time.” I sink back onto my elbows and look up at the sky with him as lightning flickers from somewhere inside the cloud bank. “I figured it was only a matter of time until one of you took it.”
“Nah,” he says. “Royal likes to let people suffer, and I’d never go that far. At least not on purpose.” He glances at me from the corner of his eye.
“Maybe you’d do it by accident,” I agree. “But Baron wouldn’t.”
“Yeah,” he says. “But if I was around, I’d stop him.”
“I know.”
“And not just so you could suffer,” he says. “I figure we all only got a little time. You never know when you’ll be washed away in a flood or forced to jump off a bridge or blown up in a drug lab.”
“Or bleed to death and have it be ruled an ‘accident’ because the person who did it bought off a bunch of dirty cops,” I say bitterly. “Like you can accidentally castrate yourself.”
“I’m just saying, man,” he says. “You don’t want to take someone else’s time. It probably fucks up your own timeline, like maybe it gets taken off the years you got left.”
“Not sure that’s how it works, but it’d be nice if it did. Royal would have one foot in the grave. Karma’s a bitch like that.”
“We’ll all be lucky to last long enough to join the 27 Club. That’s why you gotta do that shit now. Do all the drugs, drink all the beer, fuck all the girls. What’s the point in saving shit for later when you can do it now and there might not be a later?”
I tip my beer up, finishing it in one long draught before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “How drunk are you?” I ask, chuckling.
“Not drunk enough to fuck your gay ass,” he says, moving his foot over to knock against mine. “Got any more of those beers?”
I stand and stumble to the cooler. It swims in front of me as I reach down for it, but I get the lid flipped up on my second try. I grab a beer and return to where he’s lying in the grass, one arm behind his head now, looking like a fucking king reclining on his pillows.
“Then have another,” I say, holding it out to him.
He sits up and swipes for it, but I pull it back. “Did you forget your manners, baby boy?”
He glowers up at me and works his jaw back and forth.
“Ask nicely,” I say. “Or at least thank me. Though I guess you’re in the right position for that.”
His eyes drop to the front of my black pants, and he swallows before raising his gaze to mine. “Beer me, please.”
“Or maybe I should have you bow and kiss my feet,” I say. “You did it for Harper, so I know you know how. That was pretty hot, to be honest.”
“I can get my own fucking beer,” he says, struggling to get his feet under him.
I reach out, burying my hand in the thick waves of his dark hair. “You’re already kneeling. Let me see you bow, king.”
He glowers up at me, his gaze bleary and belligerent. “I am a king.”
“You were,” I say. “Or at least you were a jester who tricked people into believing you were. You’ve had three good years on top. But time is ticking, Duke. The Darlings are back. There are three of us and only one of you. Maybe it’s time you learned how it feels to crawl in the gutter like a rat.”
“I am a rat,” he says. “I’ll rat your ass out now that you have something to lose. I can take it all away again.”
“I don’t think you will,” I say. “For the same reason I didn’t. Now bow and kiss my feet with those pretty lips, or I’ll remind you why you don’t like your current position.”
“Because I’m not fucking gay,” he snarls.
I yank his head forward, and his jaw clenches, but he doesn’t break my hold. Instead, he lowers onto his hands. I release his hair so he can go all the way down to the ground.
I don’t force Duke to do anything he doesn’t want to do. That’s why I like him sober. So he can’t excuse it the next day, even to himself.
I feel a swell of power expanding in my chest when he presses a kiss onto the toe of each of my cowboy boots, and for a moment, I’m higher than any drug can take me. Only this can give me the one thing I want so badly—needso badly—that Dixie can’t deliver.
