Speak No Evil: A Secret Society Student Teacher College Romance (The Society Book 3)

by Ivy Fox

  Fated even.

  Almost as if the universe agrees that I shouldn’t let her off the hook for her meddling. Putting Emma Harper in Colt’s path won’t be difficult. In fact, it will be all too enjoyable for me to watch them butt heads while the true nature of my game begins to unfold.

  Ironic how in a room destined for us to learn about ethics, I’m about to make sure they both lose theirs.

  Evil men reap what they sow, Colt.

  And your day of reckoning has finally arrived.

  Chapter 1

  Colt

  Halloween night – one month ago

  I keep my steps silent, my eyes glued to the nape of her neck as Kennedy slowly walks further down the dark corridor. She’s so consumed in her task, she completely forgets to check her flank, letting me follow her every step while being none the wiser of my presence.

  What are you up to, Ken?

  Making sure I always keep a good safe distance between us, I continue to lurk behind one of my dearest friends, wondering what the hell she’s up to now. Because in all the years I’ve known her, Kennedy Ryland is always up to something. My forehead crinkles in curiosity as she continues on with her pursuit in a Kill Bill jumpsuit no less. All that is missing from her costume is a samurai sword, and I wouldn’t put it past her if she has one hidden away somewhere. Good thing she’s unarmed, because hell has no fury than a pissed off Ken. And by the way I can hear her grind her teeth, she’s definitely fuming with rage. Whatever she came back here to find has slipped through her grasp.

  No, not something—more like someone.

  When Ken finally reaches the servant’s quarters at the back of the house, and sees that no one is there, she throws her arms up in the air with a disgruntled huff, kicking the wall for good measure.

  “Shit!” she mumbles, aggravated.

  Whatever she was up to, it’s obvious she failed miserably at it and Ken hates losing. She always has. Seeing as she’s about to turn around and head back to the party, I can’t pass up the opportunity to confront her here, where she’s alone and less likely to be able to dodge my questions. I grab her by the waist and clasp my hand over her mouth, stifling the little shriek she lets out.

  “Boo,” I whisper teasingly in her ear.

  She elbows me hard in the gut, resulting in her release, as I chuckle with her knee jerk reaction of hitting first and asking questions second.

  “Damn you, Colt! You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  I can’t help but continue laughing at the deep-rooted scowl she’s trying to level me with.

  “It looked like you were about to have a coronary long before I came along. Just what are you doing back here all by your lonesome?” I cock a mocking brow.

  “What are you talking about? I was just checking if all the rooms had enough beverages. Linc did appoint me as this party’s hostess, right? I’m just doing my part, that’s all. Geez, paranoid much?” she retorts, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Sure you were.” I chuckle, closing the small gap between us, my fixed gaze never leaving her annoyed blue eyes.

  But for every step I take in Kennedy’s direction, she takes two steps backward, until finally her back is flush up against the wall.

  “Where’s your fiancé?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him yet.” She shrugs feigning boredom.

  “You don’t look like you’re too bothered that he hasn’t shown up to your party.”

  “It’s not my party. It’s Lincoln’s.”

  “We both know it’s your party, Ken. Everyone does. That’s why people came.”

  She mauls her lower lip, not happy with my observation. Truth is that ever since Aunt Sierra and Uncle Crawford died so abruptly last spring, no one is in a rush to get chummy with my cousin. Unless of course he’s writing them a big fat check, then everyone can’t get enough of Asheville’s golden boy.

  Fucking leeches.

  “You didn’t answer my question. You don’t look like you care if your fiancé comes to this party one way or the other. Why is that, Ken?” I ask, leaning in and pressing my forearm above her head, trapping her completely.

  “Of course, I care. Stop being so obtuse,” she reprimands with a roll of her eyes, before trying to shove me away.

  But I don’t move an inch. Ever since Ken accepted Tommyboy’s proposal earlier this year, she’s tried her best to evade my questions at every turn. Finn would never come right out and tell her that Tommyboy is a douche. Easton respects her decision even if he thinks it’s a bad one. And Linc… well, Linc has no say in the matter, and he never will. Me, on the other hand, don’t give a fuck about letting her or Tommyboy know that I’m opposed to this fucked-up arrangement. And Ken knows that I’ve never been one to keep my mouth shut.

  “Why are you even with that guy?” I ask point-blank.

  “Not this again. Seriously, Colt, this conversation is getting stale.”

  “Well, tough shit, because I’m going to keep asking you until you give me a real answer.”

  “I have given you one. It’s not my fault you refuse to accept it.”

  “If you’re going to feed me that bullshit of how in love you are with Tommyboy, I’m going to hurl. We both know you don’t love him.”

  “You sound pretty sure of yourself. I’m marrying him, aren’t I?!” She hikes a defiant brow.

  “I stand by what I said. Just because you’re willing to put his damn diamond ring on your finger doesn’t mean you love the prick.”

  I know she doesn’t. We all do.

  She turns her face away to the side, but I grab her chin to make her look at me.

  “End it, Ken. Tommyboy is not the one who you should end up with.”

  “Oh yeah? Then who is?”

  My cold heart bleeds, as we both know the answer to that very question but are too cowardly to say it out loud.

  “You have other choices,” I whisper, instead of giving her the name she yearns to hear.

  “Sure I do.”

  When she lowers her eyes to our feet in defeat, it damn right kills me. Ken is a fucking fighter. She is fearless and without remorse. But when it comes to her heart, she’s just a lost girl who wants what she can never have.

  “Look at me, Ken. You do have other choices. If you’re so gung ho on getting hitched, I’ll marry you, if you want?”

  Her eyes go wide, her jaw agape as we both stare at each other digesting the absurdity that just left my mouth.

  Did I just fucking propose to Kennedy Ryland?

  Fuck me!

  But the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. I always assumed I’d never get married anyway. Thanks to my parents, I don’t believe in the institution. But if it would give Ken an out from the current predicament she somehow has gotten herself into, then why the fuck not? My alternative is ten times better than walking down the aisle to marry Thomas Maxwell Junior. Even though Ken won’t tell me the real reason why she said yes to Tommyboy’s proposal in the first place, I know in my gut it’s not what she wants. And if I listen to my intuition I’d bet good money that the culprit behind her decision is her asshole of a power-hungry father. So if he’s the one who is pressuring her to marry into the Maxwell family, I’m sure he’ll change his tune if a Richfield heir is willing to take his daughter off his hands. He might have no love for my family at the moment, but we all know that wasn’t always the case. I’m sure if I knocked on his door and gave him another opportunity to be a part of the Richfield legacy, he wouldn’t think twice, no matter how bitter he is about the past.

  “Well, say something!” I exclaim when a few minutes have passed by and Ken still has that shocked expression on her face.

  “What do you want me to say? It’s obvious you’ve lost your goddamn mind,” she chastises, slapping my chest.

  “Why not me? I’m better than Tommyboy,” I reply, feigning hurt.

  “If you say so,” she mumbles under her breath, unconvinced.

  “Don’t even den
y it. I am definitely a better catch and you know it. Besides, if you’re willing to marry that douche, who you don’t love by the way, then why not marry me?”

  “Geez. Now that you put it that way… I’d be a fool not to marry you, huh?”

  My smile is only halfway up when I realize she’s being fucking sarcastic.

  “I’ll talk to your father tomorrow and set it all up,” I explain assertively.

  “Colt Turner, you will do no such thing! Jesus. Are you high?”

  “Like I’d ever poison my body.” I scoff.

  “Okay, then you must be drunk because you are not making any sense right now.”

  “I’m sober as a judge, Ken.”

  “Then you hit your head somewhere because you have completely lost it!”

  “Ken—”

  “No.”

  “Come on, just think about it.”

  “I said no!” She deadpans, jabbing a finger into my chest.

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “Colt… just stop, okay?”

  “I could be good for you,” I whisper, using all my charm, thinking this might be a better approach to use against her stubbornness. But before I can caress her cheek with the back of my hand, she just slaps it away.

  “No, you couldn’t.”

  “I could, Ken. If you just gave me the chance, I could. I loved you once when I was a kid, I’m sure I could do it again if I put my mind to it.”

  She claps her hands over my lips, shaking her head profusely.

  “Don’t you dare say another word, Colt Turner. You’ve said too much as it is. And besides, you never loved me. We both know what you had was an infatuation over the girl who didn’t come to your beck and call every time you snapped your fingers. You didn’t care about me that way then, and you don’t now. So just stop it.”

  I wish I could tell Ken she’s wrong, but deep in my faulty assembled heart I know she’s right. The minute I saw what type of misery could come out of truly loving someone, I swore to never put myself in that type of predicament. It only took witnessing my cousin’s suffering to realize I had never loved anyone in my life. Not her. Not anyone. Nor will I ever. Not if I have anything to say about it.

  “Would you leave Tommyboy if he asked?” The question has already left my lips before I can take it back, surprising me just as much as her.

  Kennedy’s gaze falls to the floor again, as if trying to hide the hurt caused with that one question.

  “He won’t ask,” she mumbles solemnly, her expression reflecting the same pain I’ve seen on Lincoln’s face time and time again.

  “But would you?”

  She raises her head to look me in the eye, sadness dwelling in them.

  “Yes. I would,” she admits, her sorrow piercing through my cold heart.

  “He’ll never ask, Ken. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Why?” she asks on a somber cry. “Why won’t he, Colt?”

  I thin my lips, feeling helpless to take her pain away. Even if I told her why, the answer to that question would only hurt her more and it wouldn’t change anything. Linc will never be able to love her like she wants him to. Ken needs to move on. I just wish she wasn’t trying to do that with fucking Tommyboy, of all people. I’m grasping for the right words to say, unable to deal with the misery hanging densely in the air between us, when a throat clears, alerting Kennedy and I that we’re no longer alone in the dark hall.

  “Everything okay?” Easton questions with a disapproving tone, as I step away from Ken.

  “Of course,” Kennedy replies upbeat, trying hard to hide the broken girl that was here just a few seconds ago.

  “You sure about that?” he repeats unconvinced, crossing his arms over his chest, staring directly at me.

  I throw him an annoyed glower, yet the dark prince isn’t one bit intimidated by it.

  “Don’t be silly. Everything is fine.”

  If only that were true.

  And by the way her voice just jumped up about two octaves, Easton isn’t buying it either. As Ken does her best to ease the tension, I look behind Easton’s shoulder and see a figure down the hall in an angel costume waiting for his return. It must be Pastor Davis’ niece who is shifting uncomfortably from left to right. Seems Easton brought his society homework to tonight’s party. I keep my mouth shut while Ken walks over to the girl, linking her arm with hers, heading back to the party.

  “Care to explain what the fuck that was all about?” Easton interrogates after he’s made sure both girls are out of hearing range.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me, asshole. I’m not having your shit today,” he shouts, poking me hard in the chest. “I thought you were done with that shit.”

  I almost sigh out in relief at the conclusion Easton leapt to so quickly. With the death glare he’s leveling me with, it’s clear he thinks I still harbor feelings for our best friend. If only I could. Maybe then she’d take my proposal seriously and end it with Tommyboy. But if our little rendezvous taught me anything, it’s that only one man could do the job, and unfortunately for Ken, he never will.

  “It’s none of your business, East,” I reply harshly, feeding into his unfounded suspicion.

  “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

  “Too late for that. Just worry about what you got going on, and leave Ken to me.”

  “This cannot happen again, you feel me?” he warns me, getting all up in my face.

  “Fuck off.”

  “Jesus, Colt. I know you’re stubborn as fuck, but you’ve never been stupid. What if Tommyboy had seen you two? Or her brother? You know those assholes are both here tonight, right?”

  “Like I give two fucks about either one of them.” I scoff, running my fingers through my hair, unbothered by his scenario.

  “Oh, yeah? Then what if it had been Lincoln who caught you two instead of me?”

  Go for the jugular East, why don’t ya?

  “If she wanted him, she’d be with him. But she’s not, now is she? She’s fucking engaged to Maxwell’s sperm accident.” I play off, hoping he believes the lie.

  “You know what? I take it back. You are fucking stupid as shit! Did it ever occur to you that the reason she isn’t with Linc is because he’s the one putting on the brakes?”

  I bow my head, knowing how right he is.

  “Don’t be an asshole, brother. You know she’s all he cares about. Sooner or later Linc will get his head out of his ass and tell Ken as much. And when he does, she won’t pick anyone but him. She loves him.”

  “You think I don’t know that shit?!” I yell, pushing myself away from the wall, but Easton holds me still by placing his hands on my shoulders, trying to soothe my rage.

  “I think sometimes you try to forget it.”

  If only I could. Jesus, I wish I could.

  I wish Linc could just follow his heart instead of being forced to live with the unending torment of his feelings. I wish Ken didn’t feel she had no other way to move on with her life than to marry a man who will make her the butt of every crude joke. I wish for a lot of things, but am powerless to make any of them true.

  “When did things get so fucked up?”

  “Haven’t they always been?” He shrugs sadly.

  “Fuck it. Go and get back to your girl. I gotta go and find something to take the edge off.”

  “You do that,” he retorts, feeling as if he’s done his job here.

  Little does he know that things are more fucked up in our lives than he realizes.

  I leave Easton and go look for anyone that might take my mind off shit I can’t solve. Right now any warm body or mouth will do to just switch off. But as I walk through the halls filled with happy drunk college students, resentment of their carefree happiness begins to settle within me.

  We’ll never have that again.

  Just being in this house of lies and secrets suffocates me.

  I need to get out of h
ere for my own sanity.

  And with that thought in mind, I get in my Bugatti, putting as many miles as I can between me and the Hamilton’s estate—the house that stole our youth from us.

  And could quite possibly still rob us of our freedom.

  Chapter 2

  Emma

  Halloween night – one month ago

  As I walk closer to the vending machine on the far end of the long corridor, the overhead light keeps blinking on and off, giving the hallway a sinister feel to the narrow space. I guess any empty dark corridor in a library that has been standing for close to a hundred years can look awfully spine-chilling if you let your imagination run wild. With its creaky floorboards and the unnatural wind blowing up against the fragile single-paned windows, making the building’s ancient walls vibrate profusely, any active mind might be inclined to conjure up a ghost or two to explain such eerie surroundings—especially on a Halloween night like this one.

  I, however, am not prone to such misgivings and foolish supernatural suspicions. My logical mind latches onto real, harsh facts to justify everything in my life, even something as mundane as questioning the reason behind Charlotte Public Library having all the traits and foreboding characteristics of a haunted house.

  The boards under my four-inch heels squeak with the weight of my steps, the old wood flooring in desperate need of some TLC. Unfortunately, using public funds to upkeep the old library is the last thing the City Council believes its money should go to. The howling cry heard coming from outside is just the wind promising the arrival of winter to a town’s inhabitants, who have been spoiled with warm weather for far too long to remember what wind even sounds like. All perfectly logical explanations as to why this secluded part of the library feels as if an ominous force will attack at any moment.