Page 184 of Midnight Curfew

Dallas kneels in front of the steps, gaping and probably piecing together how he could be so stupid. While he was inside the Den and his family was transporting their black market shit over to Trace’s storehouse, there was a lot happening.

He shakes his head. “No…”

Stopping at his side, I let the rain cool my body, my shirt already soaked enough that it’s plastered to my chest. “It’s called eminent domain. Money is power. Once your people know that you don’t have any wealth now, they’ll pursue their destinies elsewhere, and without any local economic growth, the government will sell me your land whether you agree or not, because I’ll pay more in taxes, generate revenue for tourism, and create jobs.” I tip my head back, letting the rain cool my face. “You’ll get a reasonable price, though.”

Flying to his feet, he swings for me. I duck, sweeping his foot and shoving him to the ground. Grady jumps down to contain him, and I squat, zoning in on those eyes. “Your house, gone,” I say. “Mariette’s, gone. The bar, the motel, the school, the houses, the people…”

I grit my teeth together. Everything fucking gone.

Did I ever want that? Not at all. I never hated the Bay, and I never wanted to own it, but my father will get it if I don’t. I could have helped them keep their land, but fuck Dallas. Fuck them all. I’ll be untouchable, and that’s what I want most.

I take his throat in my hand, stroking his jaw with my thumb.

“It’s not yours!” he growls.

I simply shrug. “One could argue our ancestors are in these graves, too.” I look around. “In any case, it’ll take years to sort out.”

The cemetery is on public property, they didn’t get a permit for the tomb, and much of what was found might be historically significant. It needs to be assessed. I could even argue they’re liable for the items they’ve sold already if I can bribe someone here to divulge what they were. What if it offered insight to St. Carmen’s history? That coupled with a hefty payout got the police to assist me tonight.

“You got careless,” I tell him. “Overly confident. That was always your problem.”

“What do you want?” he fires back.

What does he think? Him? Does he think he can bargain his way out of this and it’s all about him?

“Nothing,” I reply. “You can give me nothing.”

I rise, staring down at him.

“Except what I want to take,” I add.

There’s no turning back.

Glancing at Grady, I nod once. “The curfew can end now.”

I’ve got everything they have anyway.

27

Dallas

I don’t know how much time passes. Minutes? An hour?

But slowly, I realize the police lights are gone, cars with big engines are rushing in, and rain spills over my lips so fast I’m swallowing it.

Was he planning this the whole time? I stare at the ground, and I faintly recognize Army’s and Iron’s voices behind me, but I’m too busy retracing our moments together.

His bed. My classroom. The teacher’s lounge.

When he kissed me by the school doors before I ran out to risk myself for a condom.

A million other questions float around the periphery of my brain—how did he know what we were hiding here? Were his friends in on it? Where did he take everything?

Only one thought keeps digging deep into my chest, though. Was he planning this the whole fucking time?

Was he faking it? The kisses in the weight room. His words as he lay on the floor of the boat. His eyes tonight in the Den.

“What did you do?” I hear Army shout.