Chapter 24 Over at Eighteen #3
“The Darlings are over,” Royal said coldly. “We told them to step aside, but they refused, so they learned the hard way. The rest of you can learn the hard way or the easy way. It’s up to you.”
“What did you do to them?” Lacey asked, holding up a black dress around her chest, obviously having been interrupted in the middle of hooking up with someone.
“We did this to all their houses,” Duke crowed, spreading his arms wide, proud of the destruction he’d caused. He was a little unhinged, but the two oldest brothers were worse. “They’re done. From now on, we send the invites to the parties. We tell you when and where, and you show up.”
“You worship us now,” Baron said. “You bow and kiss our feet. You suck our dicks. And if you don’t…” He jerked his chin at the shattered windows, the smoldering carpet. “Then your houses are next.”
“You won’t get away with this,” Chase said quietly. “The Darlings built this town.”
“And now we own it,” Royal said in that same toneless, withering voice. “Their money may have built it, but ours will run it from now on. Any sympathizers will meet the same fate as them.”
“You just admitted to blowing up their houses,” Chase pointed out.
“Did we?” Baron asked, turning to his brothers. “I don’t remember that. It’s your word against ours, and everyone knows how that holds up. We already took down the Darlings, but we can keep going. So tell us, who’s going to stop us? Are you next?”
We all looked around at each other, a hundred stunned people with no phones, no cameras. No proof.
Chase looked down at Lindsey and then back at the Dolces, his expression sober. Then he shook his head.
“Now that we’ve established that, let’s get the real party started,” Duke said. “Somebody turn on some music up in here, and we’ll show you how it’s really done.”
The stripper in silver boots haltingly stepped over and turned on the stereo, and the speakers started booming.
“Dance, monkeys,” Baron yelled.
We all started swaying, half-heartedly moving and casting furtive glances at each other, wondering what the hell just happened.
My mind raced. Where were the Darlings? What did the Dolces do to them?
And what would happen if I made a run for it?
There was glass everywhere, but I was wearing shoes.
Even in heels, I probably could make it.
If they didn’t chase me, at least. But I could say I was leaving.
The twins and I had ended things on good terms, and I was friends with their sister.
They’d let me leave. I could get my phone back and call the police.
“Shots for everyone,” Duke yelled at a waitress who was tentatively picking up her tray. “Keep ‘em coming ‘til the bottles are all dry. And get someone on this pole before I pick someone.”
The stripper went back to the pole. I took a shot, edging toward the door. But the Dolces hadn’t moved. They were blocking the exit, talking amongst themselves. Royal gestured to the door, frowning as he spoke.
My throat tightened when I thought of Preston again. I wouldn’t even think about what could have happened to him. I’d just leave and go find him.
Before I could make up my mind whether to talk my way past the Dolces or try to sneak out through the door on the other end of the room, Preston and Colt appeared behind the Dolces.
My heart surged with relief, even though they both looked busted up, and Preston was holding something over his eye that looked like a wadded-up t-shirt.
“Get the fuck out of our house,” he thundered.
“This is our house now, baby,” Duke yelled. “Our town.”
“Accept it,” Royal growled. “You’re beaten. Crawl away like the pussies you are, and we’ll let you live.”
Someone stopped the music, and the room went dead silent.
Then Preston jumped at them. I raced for the door the second the Dolces weren’t blocking it, wanting nothing more than to get my phone while they brawled yet again—something they’d been doing for months, since the Dolces arrived.
Preston’s arm was still healing from another fight, but I knew I couldn’t break up this one.
Nothing could stop Preston once he let his rage loose.
I flattened my back against the wall and made it past the bodies rolling around on the floor, fists flying. I just needed my phone so I could call the police and put a stop to this.
I stepped onto the landing outside the door, the stairs leading down to the first floor, where the house manager had taken our phones.
Behind me, I suddenly heard the hiss of flame and shrieks, and an animal roar that turned my feet to stone.
I spun back, my blood frozen in terror. There, I saw the Dolces holding Preston down.
Duke gripped a lit firecracker, aiming it at Preston’s face, a plume of flame and sparks obscuring him from view.
He was screaming so loud it liquified my bones, and all I could think was that he was going to die.
I dove at them, crashing into Duke, knocking him off. We hit the floor, and the firecracker spun away, shooting sparks. More people screamed. Baron and Royal were still holding Preston down. Baron made a grab for the firecracker, snatching it up.
“Welcome to the Dolce reign,” he bellowed, holding up the lit firecracker like a torch. Then he brought it down, impaling Preston through the eye.