by Hart, Rebel
“Rise and shine, beautiful. It’s past lunchtime.”
I paused. “What?”
Hannah pulled the comforter off me and the smell of coffee and hot honey perked me right up. I groaned as I sat upright in bed, twisting so my back leaned against the wall. She smiled at me as she handed me the mug of coffee. It even had my name on it.
I cleared my throat. “Cute.”
She smiled. “You think? Mom got them for me. You can write on them with markers and erase them later. I kind of wanted to draw a dick on mine.”
“Mature.”
“Hey, get that coffee in you so you’re on my level. I’m already into my third cup, and you’re right. This hot honey stuff is amazing. We’re definitely going to need more.”
I closed my eyes and took my first long pull of that glorious drink. If we had to buy more bottles, then so be it. I was practically addicted to the stuff at this point. And I was glad I finally had someone on my bandwagon. Mom didn’t like spicy things and Dad wasn’t a honey fan. He didn’t like anything that was overly sweet in the first place. Unless, of course, he was talking about the cheesy way my mom went about romance.
I rolled my eyes at the thought.
“So guess what I heard this morning?”
I took another long pull. “I’m surprised you were up this morning.”
She snickered. “By morning, I mean an hour ago.”
“That sounds better.”
“Apparently, there’s going to be another party tonight.”
I paused. “Another one?”
“Yep. Just for the top three levels, though. Not the entire dorm, like last night.”
I blinked. “Yay?”
“Oh, come on. You know you had fun last night. And I saw you watching out for that hunk of meat the entire time.”
“I wasn’t watching out for him. I was watching out for myself. There were way too many people stacked on this floor last night.”
“Trust me, I know a wandering set of eyes when I see them. And you were definitely hunting him down.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I need more coffee for this.”
Hannah snickered. “Anyway, this one is to celebrate. Last night was, like, a campus-wide ‘yay semester’ party. This one is just for this dorm to celebrate the craziness. No random people coming in and out. Just for us, you know? There shouldn't be a lot of people piled in like last night. You’ll enjoy this one better.”
“And if I don’t enjoy it at all?”
“Quit being a party pooper and drink your coffee. I know how you are when you’re tired.”
“Then hush so I can drink.”
Hannah giggled at me as I drained my drink. And, like the wonderful friend she had become, she got me another mug. She stirred the hot honey in before it filled my nostrils, and the only thing I thought about was how to get out of this party. Where I could go on campus in order to have an excuse to get away from it all.
The sound of bikes outside pulled me from my trance.
Hannah rushed to the window. “Nuh. Uh.”
I furrowed my brow. “Are they back out there?”
She grinned. “Why don’t you come take a look for yourself?”
The sound of a roaring engine split the air again and I slipped off my bed. With my coffee held tightly in my hands, I walked over to the window and peeked out, hoping and praying the sound wasn’t them. I didn’t like how those guys made me feel. Just sitting across from campus. Not quite on it, and not quite in it. Hovering, like the creepy guys they were.
But once my eyes fell on the guy who’d helped me with my stuff, a shiver slid down my spine.
And not a cold one, either.
“Where’s that one going?”
I followed Hannah’s pointing finger and saw where the revving engine was coming from. One of the bikers with a rusted-up bike was riding it onto campus. Over the curb, down the sidewalk, and straight for the dorm. My eyebrows rose as he disappeared underneath the awning of the building. I sipped my coffee and lifted my eyes, gazing back over the street.
Just before the sound of roaring engines kicked up again.
“Where do you think they’re going?”
Hannah’s voice pulled me from my trance and I backed away from the window.
“Don’t know. Don’t care.”
She snickered. “Oh, come on. You know you care a little bit.”
I shrugged. “I care about coffee. Does that count?”
“Well, from the looks of it, we might be seeing more of them this semester.”
I frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
She giggled. “I’m not complaining one bit. I mean, they’re pretty hot.”
“If you’re into that kind of thing.”
“You mean bikes and leather and muscles? Hell yeah, I’m into that kind of thing.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“You talking in your sleep last night told me otherwise.”
I paused. “What?”
She laughed. “Yep. Your dreams tell me a different story.”
“What are you talking about?”
Hannah started mocking me. “Oh, Troy. Yes. That’s it, Troy. I need more things carried up here.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t even know the man’s name. I never got it. Jerk.”
She sighed. “Ah well, worth a shot to get you to blush even more than you already were.”
My hand flew to my face. “What?”
She threw her head back in laughter. “Works every time.”
I groaned as I turned my back to her. I walked over to my desk, preparing myself for the busy afternoon. I sat down and turned on my laptop, pulling up my schedule as I reached for a book. And as I sat it open in my lap, I started plotting out my course around campus for my upcoming weeks as well as finishing up my summer reading for English.
“What are you doing?” Hannah asked.
I licked my lips. “Reading. I didn’t quite finish my English stuff this summer.”
She ripped the book off my lap. “I don’t think so.”
“Hey!”
She tossed it to the side. “You and I are going to get ready for this party. You’re going to put on something that isn’t jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, you’re going to have fun, and you’re going to join us in that hallway tonight.”
I gritted my teeth. “It’s two in the afternoon. We’ve got plenty of time.”
“You’ve got ten minutes. I’m going to go on the prowl to find out more information about this thing tonight. And when I get back, we’re going to clean you up. I mean, a good cleaning, too. We’re going to trim up your hair, maybe give you some bangs--”
I pointed at her. “You’re not cutting my hair.”
“Then we’ll go to a salon. When’s the last time you had it cut?”
“No one’s cutting my hair!”
“Then I need to try out some makeup looks on you.”
I sighed hotly. “No.”
“We’re getting you ready for this party and you’re going to look stunning. What you’re not going to do is spend your last few days of freedom doing something you should’ve done over the summer. You didn’t finish? Tough shit. Time to have some fun before our lives get sucked away with school. Got it?”
I watched with tired eyes as she flounced out of the room. How Hannah always walked with grace and poise was beyond me. Her blunt-cut blond hair swished along her shoulders as she disappeared into the hallway, leaving me to my own devices. I got up and retrieved my book from the floor and dusted it off before I sat back down at my desk.
I cracked the book back open to the last few pages. I only had thirty more pages to finish, and then I’d be able to plot my route around campus. I knew Hannah would be gone longer than ten minutes, too. Which meant I had plenty of time to get this done. But as I read, I kept focusing on my jeans. The ones I had fallen asleep in. I kept focusing on my mismatched socks and the long-sleeved shirt I had on.
What’
s wrong with this outfit?
It grew hard to concentrate. I mean, I’d never been a self-conscious person. But was it not enough for me to go to a party like this simply by myself? That didn’t sit right with me. I didn’t like wearing skirts and dresses and makeup and jewelry like Hannah did. Was that not okay? My head spun with all sorts of things she might make me do for this party. So much so that I barely got through the last pages of my required reading for the semester.
And just as I set my book off to the side, my door flew open.
“Hi! Sorry. Hiding from someone.”
I whipped my head over toward the door and saw someone barreling in. A guy dressed in all black, with black boots and a scuffed black leather jacket and…
The guy on the rusty motorcycle?
“Uh, hi,” I said.
He waved before he closed my door. “This okay? Hope it’s okay. Just need a few minutes.”
He walked over and helped himself to Hannah’s desk chair.
“So what’s your name?”
I blinked. “Get out.”
He snickered. “Interesting name. I’m Benji.”
“Hi, Benji. Get out.”
“Just a couple more minutes. I’m sure I’ll be good by then.”
“I give you none of those. Now, out.”
He snickered. “You’re a hard one, aren’t you?”
“What does that mean?”
“Usually, women don’t complain when I barge into their room.”
My voice flattened. “You're not my type.”
He nodded. “Good to know.”
But he still didn’t move.
I studied him as he sat there, listening intently to the hallway. He was tall, with long, lanky legs and arms. In fact, the kid was pretty lanky all over, with messy dark brown hair and imposing eyes.
“Making enemies before the semester even starts?” I asked.
He grinned. “Fuck yeah. It’s better than what you’re doing, sitting in here by yourself.”
“Do you even know what I’m doing?”
His eyes fell to my desk. “Studying? Or plotting out your course around campus?”
Well. “What if I told you neither?”
He snickered. “I wouldn't believe you one bit. You’re one of those girls. I can already tell.”
“One of those girls? What does that mean?”
He shrugged. “The kind of girls that have already cracked open their books and smelled them.”
“What’s wrong with something like that? Maybe people like the way a fresh book smells.”
He chuckled. “Exactly. You’re one of those girls.”
“And I’d like to know exactly what that means, and why it’s such a bad thing.”
He stood up. “Oh, you know. The goody two shoes. Always getting As. Figures she’d disappoint Daddy with a B. A Daddy’s girl, you know? Gotta cross her T’s and dot her I’s. Hell, I bet you dot I’s with a little heart, don’t you sweetheart?”
I stood up quickly. “Get out.”
“Hold on, I’m almost done.”
I strode toward him. “I said get out of my dorm room. Now.”
I heard the doorknob turning and the guy in front of me lunged. For the door, that is. He slammed his shoulder against it, holding it closed as the person on the other end fought against it. Holy mackerel, I was trapped with a crazy man. A lanky, disheveled, crazy man with a bike.
“I’m serious. I want you out,” I said.
I heard Hannah’s voice. “Hey! Let me in! The hell are you doing?”
The guy in the leather coat paused. “Who’s that?”
I glared at him. “My roommate. Let her in and see yourself out.”
The guy opened the door and Hannah’s face fell. I looked over at her and she peered at me, not wanting to fully take her eyes off the guy. I knew she recognized him. That leather coat and those black jeans. She furrowed her brow slowly before coming into the room, then gripped him by his coat.
“Hey. Wai--what are you--?”
Hannah looked at me. “Any point to him?”
I shook my head. “He said he’s hiding from someone. He let himself in and hasn’t left yet.”
The boy growled. “Let go of me.”
Hannah shrugged. “Suit yourself. Go hide somewhere else.”
She shoved him out the door and he stumbled into the wall across the hallway. He whipped around with wide, shocked eyes, and I wiggled my fingertips at him. Hannah giggled as she slammed the door closed, then flipped the lock for good measure.
“See? That’s what happens when you study unnecessarily and don’t pay attention to a damn thing I ask you to do.”
I blinked. “Really? You’re doing that right now?”
She grinned. “Really, really. Now that we’re done with that loser, ready for the details of this party?”
“I’m not going to any party if it’s not good enough to go as myself.”
“Girl, I’m not dressing you up in my clothes. You’re going in yours. You just have such reserved clothing. I mean, look at you! It’s August, and you’re wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Aren’t you hot?”
“Not really. I stay cold all the time like Mom.”
“Well, we’re going to at least find you a cute little short-sleeved shirt in your dresser that you can put on. Maybe something that shows off your assets a bit.”
I blinked. “I don’t have those like you do, Hannah.”
“Oh, come on. I’d kill for your legs.”
“And I’d kill for your curves.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on. We don’t have that loser distracting you and making you feel weird anymore. So let’s find you an outfit for tonight.”
I pointed to my laptop. “I really should be--”
Hannah took my hand. “No. I won’t let you go another semester without making a friend.”
“You’re my friend.”
“Someone other than me. Dani, you can’t go an entire college career and not make any friends. That isn’t healthy. College is enjoyed with people. Yes, studies are important, but so are connections. I’m sure even your parents would back that up.”
Actually, they already had.
“Fine, okay. We’ll do this. Under one condition.”
Hannah smiled. “Name it.”
I pointed at her. “No. Makeup.”
She sighed. “Not even lip gloss?”
“Nope.”
“Or a bit of mascara?”
“Nope.”
“Or some blush!?”
“Not a bit of it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. But that means I get more liberties with your outfit. And jewelry. Come on. Let’s get you dolled up for the evening.”
6
Max
I sat at the wrought iron gate of the sprawling property and sighed. I hated coming to this place. It always forecast terrible, awful things to come. The spic-and-span white house always threw people off. Good people lived in white houses. But the blood red shutters told a much different story. It boasted of the blood on the hands of the man that lived here. It boasted of the lives this man had taken when he was the president of our crew. Dread filled my gut. It always did just before I pressed the red button on the intercom. The kind of red that matched the shutters, complemented the wrought iron gates, and always reminded me of exactly whose presence I was about to be graced with.
But, every single time, I pressed that button.
Because we needed jobs, and we needed to get paid.
“Yes?”
“It’s Max. Let me up.”
“Of course, sir. Right away.”
The Australian accent filled my ears as the intercom turned off. And when the wrought iron gates started moving in front of me, I revved my engine, letting Ashton know I was coming. I sped up the driveway, taking in the smell of the apple trees that lined the concrete pathway on either side. It was the only refreshing thing about this property. Picking a sweet, fresh apple off one of those
trees was one of the small treasures of life. Its crisp, sweet juice was ready for my tongue as I rode off into the sunset.
After meetings with this man, of course.
Ashton would probably have my head if he knew I was actually picking fruit from his apple trees.
I pulled up to the bottom of the porch steps and killed the engine of my bike. With the kickstand down and my leg swung over, I started up the steps to the white wraparound porch. Such an innocent design to this house. And yet, it had held so many tortures over the years. I knew there was a basement to this property, but I didn’t dare go into it. Or ask to see it. Lord only knew the kinds of things Ashton kept down in that place. Especially out here. In the middle of nowhere.
No one could hear you scream in that basement.
The cherry mahogany door greeted me. But I didn’t have a chance to use the wrought iron knocker on it. The second I stood in front of it, the door eased itself open. It creaked to life, sending another cold chill down my spine. And as the man attached to that Australian accent ushered me into the massive foyer, I slid my hands into my leather jacket pockets.
I had easy access to my brass knuckles, just in case.
“Mr. Ryddle will be down soon,” the man said.
I nodded. “Thank you.”
Ashton insisted the man not have a name. Every time I tried to introduce myself, or get his name, Ashton butted in. As if his personal staff wasn’t allowed to have an identity behind these walls. It made me sick. Sure, Ashton paid his staff well. Hell, he paid all of us well. But that payment came at a price.
For his staff, it was their identity.
For us? It was our souls.
“Max.”
I slowly looked up toward the top of the steps, watching as he walked down them, his hand lingering on the shining, wooden banister. His footsteps were even and silent. His eyes burrowed into me as an emotionless smile slipped across his cheeks.
“Dad,” I said.
“Walk with me. I have a contract for you and your boys.”
He motioned for me to follow him and I looked over at the man in the suit. The Australian. The man with no name, and probably no soul, either. He had his hands locked behind him and stared straight ahead. Right by the door, in case anyone else showed up. I wondered if he ever moved from that position. If he ever flinched when my father dragged a hopeless soul through those doors. I wondered about all the atrocities he had seen at my father’s hands. Ashton’s.