Filfthy (42 page)

“You are, baby,” Rick adds, rubbing circles into her bony back. “You’re the best thing in the world. Shit, baby, you
are
my world.”

I refuse to stand here and watch him do this to her. She’s too young to see what’s going on, and she’s too addicted to care.

But I care. I fucking care. And I blame myself for this.

I’ve had a truck since the day I turned sixteen. I could’ve come around more. Sure, it’s a three-hour drive, but I could’ve made the effort to be around more, to be a better influence and to spend more time with her.

This is all my fault. I’ve failed her as an older brother. But I’m going to fix it now.

“Come on, Misty.” I yank her by the arm and pull her to the door a final time. My grip on her wrist feels like it might break her, but I’m not letting go. She’s coming with me, and there’s not a damn thing she can do about it.

“Royal, let go!” Misty squirms and fidgets, pulling against me like a puppy fighting its leash. “I don’t wanna go with you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

Misty thrashes her arms and kicks my shins, her head flying from side to side and causing her hair to stick to her tear-streaked face.

“Calm the fuck down,” I say through gritted teeth. “Don’t fight me now.”

“Stop! You’re hurting me, Royal,” she cries. “Don’t do this. Don’t do this, please . . .”

Her nails scratch the flesh on my arms, drawing blood. Within seconds, I’m covered in claw marks.

“Let her go, Royal,” Rick yells.

I glance over and he’s standing there, arms crossed, wearing his classic smug smirk with his phone out. He doesn’t try to come to her rescue, he just stands there like he’s watching fucking Jerry Springer.

“The hell are you doing?” I ask.

“Making damn sure you don’t go doing anything stupid,” he says.

I release Misty, and she falls to the floor in a pile of tattered clothes and disheveled hair.

“What the hell does that mean?” I storm across the room, and he shoves his phone in his back pocket, lifting his hands and shrugging.

“You go to the cops about any of this,” he says. “I’ll make damn sure you’re the one who goes away for a long, long time.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I spit my words at him.

He pulls his phone out, replaying the audio recording he took of my sister screaming for me to stop and that I’m hurting her.

“Fuck you, Rick.” I’m burning. Head to toe. My insides on fire. “Fuck. You.”

He laughs, motioning for my sister to come to him. They plop down on the sofa together, and she curls her legs up, tucking herself against him like a lap dog.

I can’t believe this is happening.

“Best be on your way, son.” Rick nods to the screen door, then he slips his arm around my sister, resting his hand on the side of her ass like he fucking owns her.

Fuck it.

I can’t force her to go with me.

And I sure as hell don’t want to be locked up for something I didn’t do.

God, I can’t even imagine what the Rosewoods would think if I was accused of doing something like that to my little sister. Just the thought makes me ill.

“Fine. I’m leaving.” My hand rests on the door. “But you should know, Misty, that that man does not love you. He’s using you. He’s manipulating you. But me? I’m family. I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

With that, I’m gone.

There’s nothing left for me to do but hope she comes around. Hope she sees the light. And hope she doesn’t die of some overdose before she has a chance to make something of herself.

* * *

I
’m halfway back
to Rixton Falls, nerves still firing and body still shaking with rage, when red, white, and blue flashing lights fill my rearview mirror. A quick glance at my speedometer tells me I’m barely going a few MPH over the speed limit.

Pulling over, I slip my wallet from my back pocket and retrieve my license. My arms are covered in smeared blood and claw-like scratches.

Fuck.

With nothing but jeans and a t-shirt on, there’s no way to hide these.

The blinding yellow of a bright flashlight shines in my face, and I can’t make out the deputy’s face.

“Royal Lockhart?” a woman’s voice asks. The light lowers, and I see her. Bare face. Hardened stare. Zero sympathy. The nameplate above the badge on her chest reads DEPUTY MARTINEZ.

“Yes?”

“Sir, step out of the vehicle and place your hands where I can see them.”

I can practically feel the color draining from my face, and when I try to swallow, nothing happens. My throat is tight. My chest weighted.

This isn’t a normal traffic stop.

Climbing out with slow, deliberate moves, I raise my hands in the air. Another squad car is parked behind Deputy Martinez’s vehicle, and a third one flies up in a cloud of dust.

What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening?

“Royal Lockhart, you are under arrest for sexual assault of a minor.” There’s an underlayment of disgust in her voice, and the pounding of my heart in my ears makes her sound far away even though she’s standing behind me. The ratcheting and clinking of her handcuffs sends a knot to my stomach. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney . . .”

I swallow air like I’m drowning, and when the metal cuffs are tightened around my wrists, I close my eyes.

This is all a bad dream.

No, it’s a nightmare.

Deputy Martinez leads me to the back of her car and presses her hand on the top of my head when she pushes me in. I land on my knees, and with my hands behind my back, I right my position.

The cuffs dig into the bones of my wrist. I stare straight ahead at the tailgate of my truck. Both doors to the cab are open and two deputies are combing through it like they’re going to find something.

They walk back with a white evidence bag filled with who knows what. All I had in there were a couple of sweatshirts, some packs of gum, a half-empty Gatorade bottle, and an extra pair of sneakers.

Deputy Martinez climbs into the front seat a while later, bringing the radio to her lips. “We got him. On our way back.”

The backseat is nothing but metal on metal. Metal seat. Metal bars.

I’m a fucking caged animal.

With each bump in the road, I bounce in the back, my head smacking the grid on the window. Martinez says nothing, but I’m not sure what I was expecting. It’s not like cops have to express their appreciation for your cooperation.

I draw in four long, deep breaths and shut my eyes again, resisting the urge to scream at this woman that I’m innocent.

I did nothing wrong besides try to save my sister from that fucking predator she thinks she loves.

Robert would tell me to keep my mouth shut until he gets here, so that’s what I’ll do.

I’ll call him first chance I get, and he’ll fix all this.

And later tonight, we’ll be heading back to Rixton Falls. And I can see Demi. And I can forget this ever happened.

God. Demi. I miss her so much right now.

With eyes closed tight, I concentrate on how good it’s going to feel to see her again. To put this behind me and to lose myself in her beautiful blues and to taste her on my tongue and smell her on my skin.

I love her more than I’ve ever loved anything in my entire life.

Demi Rosewood
is
my life.

Just have to get through tonight.

And then I’ll see her tomorrow.

D
emi

“
D
emi
. Demi, say something.” Royal’s hand on mine brings me out of my catatonic trance.

He’s the victim, but I’m sitting here, emotionally gutted, trying to wrap my head around everything he just told me.

He drove. He drove for miles, spilling his story. Sharing every painful detail. And now we’re parked outside his apartment. His car’s beside mine, as if he’s silently telling me he understands if I want to leave him.

I turn to Royal, eyes filled to the brim with nothing but heartache and salty tears, and lunge for him. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, my entire body shakes, and I bury my head in his neck.

The image of Royal, at nineteen, scared, falsely accused, mistakenly hopeful . . . sends a deep, searing pain across my chest.

“You . . . you believe me?” His voice is a broken whisper against my ear.

I try to speak, but nothing comes out. My words are trapped, lodged in my restricted throat, so I nod vehemently.

Peeling myself away, I drag my fingers beneath my eyes and clean up the wet streaks and dab at my nose. Our eyes meet, and all those hardened, dark feelings I’d carried toward him soften, melting.

“Why did you ever think I wouldn’t believe you?” There’s a punishing tone in my voice, but I still love this man to the end of the earth and back.

“
Nobody
believed me back then,” he says. “Your dad . . .”

He stops, swallowing hard and glancing away.

“Your dad was my only phone call,” he says. “He came to the station late that night, calmed me down. Everything was fine until he was shown the police report. And the recording. The ripped clothes. The physical marks. The rape kit report that showed she had been sexually assaulted hours earlier. The statement from the neighbor who was apparently on his front porch when I left, which was
after
he’d heard my sister’s cries. Your dad read my sister’s statement and Rick’s, which claimed I fucking
raped
my sister and that Rick had to peel me off of her and kick me out of his house. They’d obviously taken the time to corroborate after I left . . .”

My trembling hand flies to my lips.

“My word wasn’t good enough for your dad,” Royal says. “He said the case against me was too strong, the evidence too damning. He wanted to believe me. But he couldn’t. Said he had to protect his family. Told me to work with a court-appointed defense attorney and to never set foot around you or the rest of the Rosewoods ever again. I’d never felt like a bigger piece of shit in my life.”

“And you didn’t even do anything.”

“Exactly.”

I thread my fingers in his, squeezing tight.

“I don’t hold anything against your dad,” Royal says. “The evidence against me was there, and he was just looking out for his daughter. Can’t say I’d have done anything different if I were him, but goddamn, it was the worst day of my fucking life, Demi.”

I lean into him and press my face against his chest, inhaling the scent of his shirt and resting the palm of my hand against his warm cheek.

“Misty and Rick,” he says. “They fucked me over.”

“Did you try to tell the police what really happened?”

“Of course. They didn’t believe me. They treated me like I was guilty the second they cuffed me, and every time I gave my side of the story, they’d look at me with squinted eyes, like I was just another asshole claiming he didn’t do it.”

“What’d your attorney say?”

“He said what your father said. The evidence against me was too strong. He said if we took it to trial, there was no way I’d walk out a free man. They had signs of assault, my DNA under her fingernails, an accusation, and two witnesses. Plus the neighbor’s statement, which gave them an unbiased witness. Didn’t stand a chance. I was looking at seven years behind bars and fifteen years as a registered sex offender. That’s why I took the plea deal. I served two and a half years of a five year sentence for lesser charges, and I have to register as an offender for ten.”

“Jesus, Royal.”

“Yeah. So. That’s what I’ve been reliving on a nightly basis for the last seven years.”

“So that’s why you were so uncomfortable around Misty earlier.”

“Uncomfortable? Yeah. To say the least.”

“She knows the truth right? Can’t you get her to go to the police and admit she lied? What about Rick?”

“Rick died a few weeks ago. And Misty won’t ever admit she did anything wrong. Told me the other day that she’s ‘over’ what happened, and that I should be too.”

“Wow . . .”

I stare at this man, this beautiful man with this beautiful soul, and so much inherent, natural born goodness behind his stormy gaze that it’s unreal. The heart that beats in his chest is bigger and better than anyone else’s out there.

He doesn’t deserve that shameful title.

It’s not what he is.

R
oyal

G
od
, it’s hot in here. It’s a fucking sauna. And I’m suffocating.

Stepping out of my car, I welcome the frigid air and unzip my coat. Jamming my hands in my pockets, I lean against the side of the hood and stare at the empty Laundromat before me.

The click and closing of the passenger door brings Demi to me, and she slips her arms into the inside of my jacket, hooking herself around my lower back and placing her forehead beneath my chin, where she fits perfectly.

“I was so fucking scared, Demi,” I say with a bittersweet huff. “Out of all the shit that went down, being kept away from you was the worst part.”

She hugs me tighter.

“And when I got out? Watching you happy with another man? Fucking killed me. It was like losing you all over again. You were moving on, and I was stuck reliving the best days of my life. You were better off without me, and I had nothing but a bunch of faded memories.”

Demi lifts her gaze to mine, her forehead wrinkling.

“I never moved on. Not once, Royal,” she says.

A dusting of snowflakes falls from the sky, and she shivers, pressing her body harder against mine to stay warm. I’m a fucking inferno, and she’s an ice princess, and somehow this just works.

Lifting her chin and lowering my mouth to hers, I crush her sweet lips with an owning kiss.

“I love you so fucking much.” My words fit softly between our kisses, and my fingers lace through the dark hair at the nape of her neck.

“I love you too.”

I kiss her again and again, my lips decorating every inch of her neck with hot grazes that evaporate into the chilly night.

“Where do we go from here?” I ask.

Her lashes flutter, weighted with tiny snowflakes as she looks up to the dark window of my apartment.

“For now, let’s go inside.” Her hand slinks behind the back of my neck, and she balances on the balls of her feet to press her mouth against mine.

I slip my jacket over her shoulders and we head inside. By the time we’re climbing the narrow stairs to my apartment, her hands are working my belt buckle, and my hands are in her hair. I’m almost convinced she’s going to drop and suck me off right here in the hallway.

She rises, kissing me again and sliding her hand down the front of my pants. We stumble backward to my apartment door, and I damn near kick it down when the key gets jammed in the lock.

Slamming the door behind us, I scoop her in my arms and deposit her in the middle of my unmade bed.

Her smile fades in and out, like she’s unsure if this should be a silly little romp or her way of showing me how hard she still loves me and proving how much she believes my truth.

Hovering over her, I pull her shirt up, my cock throbbing and aching each time she squirms beneath me.

“I love you.” There’s a breathless urgency in her words and a sweet plea in her blue eyes. “I love you so, so much.”

My tongue catalogs the dips and curves from her caved belly to the lace cups of her bra. Moving it aside, I take her pink buds in my mouth, one by one. Every square inch of this woman, inside and out, is addictive. Every square inch of her was made for me.

“I love you so fucking much it hurts.” I breathe my words against her satin skin.

Her hands hook beneath my arms, pulling me close against her as her hips circle beneath mine. Our lips smash, greedy, insatiable.

And when I look in her eyes, I know she’s mine.

Forever this time.

Nothing can tear us apart. I won’t allow it.