I will say that about Lance Jacobs. He took his family’s empire to a whole other level. I’m wondering if it’s the lack of morals that got him there. If that’s the case, I don’t want anything to do with that kind of money. Even if I find the treasure, I still want to be a good person.
“Dakota?”
It’s Lucas. I lie down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. I’m feeling particularly raw right now. Exposed. Like I just showed my weakest link to my sworn enemy, and he did just exactly what they do in books—they eat you alive because of it.
“Can you let me in?”
I still don’t say anything. Lucas has his moments where he’s a decent guy, but he’s still associated with that asshole. I should say those assholes. I saw the way Wyatt looked at me too.
I realized there was a difference between me and other kids when I went to school. The rest of the time, I could pretend I was just like everyone else, but not there. Not with their fancy lunch boxes and clothes and seemingly always knowing the right thing to say. My young mind thought it was because they all had moms and I didn’t. That might have been some of it, but as I grew older, I realized it was much more than that.
We were fucking poor.
The door opens, and I swing my gaze toward it as a body comes into view. Lucas gives me a small smile. “Funny thing about this house. No locks on the glass doors.”
“I would’ve thought my silence said enough.”
Lucas sits at the edge of the bed, and I move my feet, curling them up toward me as I bring myself to a sitting position.
He just stares at me, and I grow tired. “I’m about to start homework, so if you wouldn’t mind—”
“Fucking off?” he asks.
I smile tightly. “You got it.”
“The thing is, I don’t want to fuck off, Dakota.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “You look like you need a friend, and well, I’m here.” He cringes. “Jesus. Is this the Dr. Phil show? Is he even on TV anymore?”
I give him a dead stare.
“I’m just saying,” he says almost in exasperation. “None of us knew how bad it was. If we had, we would’ve—”
“We would’ve what?” I snap. “I’m not your responsibility. I’m not anyone’s responsibility. I don’t need to be taken care of, and I certainly don’t want to be treated like a porcelain doll.”
“I think you just scared us down there, that’s all.”
“Scared you?” I laugh. It’s caustic and bitter, and I know it makes me sound about as desperate as I feel, which I hate. “Just leave, Lucas.”
He moves, but he doesn’t leave. He pulls himself back to the wall, leaning against it with his feet outstretched over the foot of the bed. Crossing his arms over his chest, he just lazes there, staring ahead. “I remember when I first saw you,” he says eventually. “You were dressed like a boy. I swear if it weren’t for your messy pigtails, I might have actually thought you were one.”
He grins, and I happen to peek in time to enjoy it. It’s boyish and throws Lucas into a whole different time of life. One where there’s no weight on his shoulders or worries over his head. I hadn’t realized how much he was holding in until I saw his innocence.
“We weren’t allowed to talk to you, of course, but when I asked about you, Stone told me who you were. We were at some Clary field days or something. It had something to do with treasure, I remember that. You had your hand wrapped around your daddy’s so tightly. Your eyes were big and round, staring at all the people, like you’d never seen that many in your life. Like you never even knew that many existed.” Lucas swallows and looks at me. “So, no, Dakota, I’m not going to leave. Because you need to know that people exist. That not everyone out there thinks you and your dad are crazy. We don’t all despise you. We don’t all think you’re scum or want to torment you because you grew up differently. Hell, if you stick around long enough. You might even realize that we all grew up differently.”
I suck in a breath at the raw honesty of his words. I don’t remember seeing him, but I remember the Gold Festival Clary used to put on. It was one of the only times I was allowed to go into town with Dad, so I can surmise that what he’s saying is true. I remember feeling lost in a sea of people. Honestly, crowds still get me sometimes. I bite the inside of my cheek as a happier memory churns just under the surface. “My dad was always really bad at doing my hair.”
Lucas grins, and it’s absolutely stunning in a way because he’s not trying. Stone walks around like he knows he’s gorgeous. Wyatt, too, has that whole cowboy thing going for him, but Lucas? He’s a sleeper. But when you really see him, you fall down the rabbit hole of his good looks, wanting to sink deeper and deeper.
We just sit there for quite some time, neither of us saying anything. We’re both wrapped in different worlds, an eye to the past. A few times, I peek at him to wonder what’s plaguing him. When I was little and saw people, I used to make up their life stories. With Lucas,
