smiles at Clay. “All at the hands of Baby Collins and the Preppy Posse.”
“I’m shitting my pants,” Trace says.
“Shakin’ in my boots,” Dallas coos, eyeing Callum.
Macon moves in front of Clay, hovering over her, and Callum leaps, ready to grab her, but Santos grabs him instead.
“What the fuck?” Callum growls.
All hell breaks loose. Swamps grabbing Saints, holding them in locks, and I watch as Clay’s pieces fall around her, leaving the Queen unprotected.
I look to Macon, opening my mouth, but I clamp it shut again. She asked for this, didn’t she? Let her find out how false her security was with me. How much I let her get away with when it could’ve been so much worse.
“Can I show you something?” Macon asks her, not breaking a sweat. He grabs her by the back of the neck, and she screams as he drags her over to a motorbike on cinder blocks, someone already started the engine, the tires spinning wildly.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a split second. Goddammit. Goddamn her.
She just had to open her big mouth.
“Clay!” Krisjen screams, but she can’t move. Trace is holding her.
“Get off her!” Callum bellows.
I hear Amy yell, “Liv! What the hell? Do something!”
But I don’t budge.
Opening my eyes, I watch Macon push Clay to her knees and squats down next to her, pushing her fucking face and a fistful of her hair within inches of the spinning spokes, “See that?” Macon asks her.
Someone’s dried blood coats the chrome spokes, and I can’t see Clay’s face, but she doesn’t fight or speak. Shoulders squared, she won’t give him that satisfaction.
“You’re right,” he tells her. “All we have is anger. And it is not without its uses.”
He pushes her nose closer, and Krisjen cries out.
I watch, my chest rising and falling, and my stomach roiling. I force away the feelings I remember from the locker room when I let myself think for a minute that her desire was real. She deserves this.
I still haven’t gotten all the Sharpie off my body, and I will never be free of that video of Megan and me. Clay terrorized me for years. She brought this on herself.
“You won’t do it,” I hear her say.
“The question is…” He looks at her. “Do I have to? Does Liv have to deal with you when she knows your grandmother and the old sheriff had a hideaway out at Two Locks where they would meet for long afternoon hours?”
Clay remains silent, and I want to move closer to see her face. Did she know that? I know things about her family that could have shut her fucking face up years ago.
“When Garrett Ames was found with his sixteen-year-old stepdaughter in a hotel room last May and quietly paid for it all to go away?” Macon continues. “Or when your mother had a little procedure done before Christmas to take care of an unwanted pregnancy?”
I can see Clay breathing harder.
“You’re right,” he tells her. “Money is power. But do you know what’s more valuable? Secrets.” He jostles her. “Secrets are power, honey. There’s a reason we’ve survived here, keeping the wolves at bay as long as we have.” He gets in her face. “We may be your maids and your dishwashers and your pool boys, but we’re always there. For smart, you’re really good at stupid.”
Her shoulders shake, and I don’t know why, but it’s killing me inside. I’d rather suffer a million of Clay’s snake bites than see her shrink.
“Do it, then.” She remains still, offering herself up. “Be like us. Hurt me.”
Do what? What is she doing?
“Do it!” she yells at him.
“Clay, knock it off,” Callum barks.
Apparently, she doesn’t speak for all of them.
“Come on, badass,” she sneers. “Go for it.”
I step forward. “They want Bellona,” I tell him, shutting her up.
Bellona is the Seminole flag, shredded and faded, but still flying at the lighthouse a mile up the dunes. It’s on her scavenger hunt.
Macon glances at me, still fisting her hair. I know he doesn’t want to hurt her. She’s not worth the jail time.
It takes him a moment, but he exhales and releases her, a half-smile on his lips. “Of course, they do.”
It would be the ultimate ‘fuck you’ from St. Carmen.
He rises and pulls Clay to her feet, but she shoves him away, scowling. Macon shuts off the bike.
“Can they take it?” Army taunts.
Macon tsks. “Doubtful.”
“Come on, Macon…” Trace bounces up and down on the balls of his feet. “I want to stretch my legs. Let’s play.”