One looks kind of like Dutch. Maybe that’s the real reason I’m entertaining them. She is like an older version of her, since Dutch is only ten. This girl isn’t quite so pretty, but she has the same hair color, dark brown. And her eyes are a similar shape, almond and catlike, though hers are blue gray and Dutch’s are gold. But that’s okay. I don’t think of Dutch that way. At least I don’t think I do. I find myself drawn to this girl because of the resemblance. Not sure what that makes me.

They ask if I will settle a bet for them. They want to know who the best kisser is.

It’s a lie. They never had a bet. But I don’t mind. They’re pretty, especially the dark one. And kissing can be fun under the right circumstances.

Since I’m killing time anyway, we go to a grouping of trees just past the swings. Kim eyes me, worried. I avoid her probing gaze. She bites her lip and lets the swing sway back and forth as we disappear behind bare, weathered timber.

I’m sore and I try not to wince when we walk up an incline, where I drop my hoodie on the ground. I put my hands in my jeans pockets. Lean against a cottonwood. And wait for them to make the first move. Because they always make the first move.

The first contestant walks up. A pretty blonde with thick eyeliner and clear lip gloss.

“Ready?” she asks. Her heart is beating fast. It pounds in my ears.

I nod.

A shy smile spreads across her face and she leans in. Presses her mouth to mine. Then her body. I don’t miss the fact that her hips rub against my crotch during the kiss. A kiss she deepens by sliding her tongue inside my mouth. She tastes like peaches. I leave my hands in my pockets. This is their game. It’s up to them how far they want to take it.

And then it happens. It happens every time. The fall.

When someone is kissing me or groping me or, hell, even going down on me, when they lose all sense of reality, they fall into a state of absolute bliss. They lose themselves in the act. They abandon all their inhibitions.

I thought it was the same for everyone, but it’s not. Earl doesn’t do that when he kisses Sarah. Only with me. Not that we kiss. Fuck that.

I’ve watched others, too. They get excited, but they never fall completely, and I wonder if it’s the evil part of me doing it to them.

Either way, this girl has fallen. Her breaths quicken and she claws at me, wanting more. I wince when her nails rake across my stomach, but I don’t stop her. She breaks off the kiss only because one of her friends shoves her softly to get her attention.

Then the girl starts giggling. “This is a contest. We all get a turn.”

The contestant snaps out of it but doesn’t want to leave me. Her soft eyes gaze into mine. Drunk. Swimming with desire. Still not 100 percent back. Her lips are pink and plump from her excitement. Her friends give her another shove and she stumbles to the side.

Next up is the other blonde. She is bolder. More confident. She kisses me hard. Presses into me harder. The bark scratches my back, but her fingernails are worse. She’s pretending at first. Putting on her best show. Trying to impress. But soon she does the fall thing, too. She breathes in slowly, enjoying the taste of me. Captivated, her muscles go slack and her head starts to spin. She digs her fingers into my hair and kisses me deeper and I feel a warmth pool in her belly and between her legs.

Our teeth clink a couple of times, but she doesn’t stop. Her other hand clutches my ass and pulls me into her. The movement is rhythmic as she grinds against me. A soft moan falls from her lips and I’m getting pretty into the whole thing, too, when the first girl practically drags her off me. Cool air whooshes between us. Yanks me out of the moment.

She turns on her friend with teeth bared and claws extended.

Her friend giggles and points to the dark one. “It’s Celeste’s turn.”

She calms down and shakes her head as though coming to her senses.

Celeste walks up, the dark one, her steps timid. She bites her lip, then says, “I don’t know if I can beat that.”

I give her my best completely blank expression. “I bet you can.”

A soft laugh escapes her. Then she refocuses on me. “How old are you, anyway?”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

I raise a brow.

“Almost. I’ll be seventeen in two weeks. You?”

Part of me doesn’t want to tell her. She’ll be horrified. But part of me wants to know what she will do when she knows the truth. “How old do you think I am?”

She lifts a slender shoulder. “At first I thought maybe eighteen, but now I’m thinking at least nineteen. Maybe even twenty?”

“Why’s that?”

“You seem very … experienced.”

I nod. “You’re close. Today’s my birthday. I’m thirteen.”

Yep. Horror. She steps back, her face the definition of stunned. The other girls are, too.

“Are you teasing us?” one of the blondes asks.

“I wish.” And I did. I would’ve left years ago. I would’ve found a way to take Kim and leave. But Earl has made sure I can’t do that. If I leave, he’ll kill her. If I take her with me, he’ll say I kidnapped her and make sure our faces are plastered all over the planet. If I don’t do what he wants, he refuses her food, then water, until I give in to his demands. If I go to the cops and he’s arrested, she’ll end up in a foster home or a children’s home. I’ve seen a lot of kids from those homes. Some of those places are great. Some are worse than my darkest nightmares. No way will I risk it.

If I were older, though, I could figure out a way. I’d have more options. I’d be smarter. More cunning like the Road Runner.

Celeste steps back to me. “I feel like we just molested a child.”

I lower my head and look at her from underneath my lashes. “You haven’t done anything yet. You aren’t forfeiting, are you?”

I finally take one hand out of my pocket. Look at my watch. I have a little more time, so I loop a finger into the waistband of her pants and pull her toward me. She lets me. Leans into me. Parks her chin on my shoulder so I can whisper into her ear.

“Show me what you got.”

A thrill races over her skin. I feel it as strongly as she does. She accepts my challenge, but she doesn’t start with the kiss. She leans her forehead against mine. Lifts her hands to my hips. Eases them up under my shirt. Slides them over my rib cage. I pray that’s all she does.

She falls almost immediately. Her huge gray eyes gloss over. Grow hooded. Intoxicated. Her breaths mingle with mine, and before she even kisses me, she runs her tongue along the seam of my mouth. It’s hot. She’s hot. Especially when she grazes her fingernails down my ribs and lowers one hand to my crotch. Feels the length of my erection.

Heat swells inside her. Floods her abdomen and rushes down her thighs. She moves in for the kiss a microsecond before she is ripped off me. I see her stumble back, but I don’t move. The five high school kids standing around me convince me to tread carefully.

“What the fuck are you doing?” one yells to Celeste.

Her friends help her up. She is still … inebriated.

Kim is standing behind one of the boys, her eyes wide.

Three of them are wearing letter jackets with hornets on the chests. The other two are dressed to impress with expensive sneakers, jeans riding their hips, graying beaters, and thick chains that run from their belt to their hip pockets. They all look like they’re fresh out of prison. I can’t help but notice the knives they each have clipped to their belts either.