Every day that passes, I want them more.
Every day that passes, I know that choosing just one of them would kill me.
I’m not going to be able to choose, am I? I think as we head outside to the garden party, and take up residence in one of the alcoves behind the hedges. Zack and Zayd fetch us all refreshments, and we stay there in the warm evening air until it gets dark and all the torches are lit.
Soft music filters over to us from the courtyard, and I experiment with what it’s like to kiss one boy after the other, a single kiss on the lips as a Valentine’s Day present. And when I say single kiss, I do mean like tongue and everything.
It’s exhilarating, to be quite honest. Makes me feel greedy, wanting them all like that. And yet, at the same time, I’m not ashamed by it either.
Not one bit.“He did, what?” I’m sitting at the harp in the music room, my fingers poised over the strings as Tristan, Zack, and Creed stand in a half-circle around me. I feel so queasy, I might have to excuse myself to the bathroom.
“He beat the shit out of them both,” Creed says, his face tight. “And I don’t mean he just hit them. When he said he liked blood, he meant it. They both ended up with broken bones. That, and he burned Valentina’s summer home to the ground. That was her grandmother’s place, with all her happy memories. Like, her parents are pieces of shit, and no amount of money will ever get back what he just destroyed in that fire.”
“He got Abigail’s place in Cruz Bay, too,” Tristan says, looking at me like he’s actually taking some of this blame on himself. “Nobody died, but Abigail was at home resting up her broken leg. She’s got burns all across the calf.”
“Jesus. Myron is that crazy?” I choke out, dropping my hands to my lap. I wanted revenge, but not like that. That’s too much, too far.
“They all are,” Zack says, exhaling. “That’s why we’re so afraid. You’re surprised by this, but we’re not. Myron isn’t an outlier, Marnye. He’s the norm.”
“What do we do about him?” I whisper, because I’m horrified. I can’t imagine just leaving someone like Myron Talbot to walk the earth uninhibited. When they said Tristan was the one keeping him in line, they meant it, didn’t they?
“Do about him?” Creed asks, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. “Honestly, nothing.”
“He considered letting him do his thing as us paying our debt toward Lizzie’s broken bet,” Tristan says, and then I feel almost guilty, like if I’d let him and Lizzie … None of this would’ve happened. Is it terrible that I still wouldn’t take it back?
“They’ll both be okay though, right?” I ask, wondering why I care so much about two girls who literally pushed and held my head underwater, and then trapped me in my room while their mistress tried to brand my flesh like a cow.
“Unfortunately,” Creed murmurs, and I give him a look as Zack sighs.
“They’ll be okay. They’re relatively minor injuries, but that’s not the point. What Myron did to them is likely what the Club is going to try to do to you.”
I stand up from my stool, but I’m not sure what to say or do.
Even if I leave Burberry Prep, that doesn’t mean I’ll be safe. It just means I’ll be away from the guys.
“Does anyone want to have another sleepover?” I ask, because I’ll admit it: I’m scared shitless.
For the rest of the year, I end up sleeping in one room or another with all five boyfriends by my side.When Spring Break rolls around, I take a brief trip with the guys up to see the Bornstead U campus. It’s literally everything I thought it would be and more. Standing there in the cool mountain air and watching the university come alive in the morning made it all seem more real somehow.
That’s going to be my life.
One day, I’m going to be a student there.
My joy only lasts so long as it takes us to get back to Cruz Bay where Dad is waiting.
Since I last saw him, everything has gone to shit.
I stop in the doorway and look at the skinny man in the wheelchair that used to be my father. It takes everything I have inside of me to put on a smile and walk in there, kneel down by his side and give him a cheek on the kiss.
Later, when he’s gone to bed and I have a moment to talk with his nurse, I learn the truth.
Charlie Reed is under hospice care now.
As in … he’s basically waiting around to die.
I spend the next few hours in the bathroom, trying to stay quiet as I alternate between throwing up and sobbing. By the time morning rolls around, I’m exhausted, but I make Dad his coffee and watch action movies with him until he decides it’s time for an afternoon nap.
