Virtue (Briarcliff Secret Society Series Book 2)

Home > Paranormal > Virtue (Briarcliff Secret Society Series Book 2) > Page 21
Virtue (Briarcliff Secret Society Series Book 2) Page 21

by Ketley Allison


  I start to ask, “What’s she—?”

  “She’s Moira’s daughter,” Chase says. “And has been helping Emma and I with our … research.”

  My eyes ping between each and every one of them, before settling on Emma. “She knows? About everything?”

  “She has been working her ass off since Emma’s been gone,” Eden snaps. “I know a helluva lot more than you, Callie.”

  It makes sense, especially since Eden’s the one who gave me the Virtues’ name in the first place, but, “Why tell me this now? Why not yesterday when we were guzzling caffeine and solidifying plans?”

  Emma answers. “Because I wasn’t sure if Eden would be all for it. This kind of fast-forwards our motives, and Eden’s nothing if not cautious.”

  Eden arches a brow. “That’s Emma’s polite way of saying I’m a paranoid freak who hates outside involvement.”

  My eye twitches. “I’m not so sure it’s the more the merrier…”

  “I could say the same thing,” Eden retorts. “I was here first.”

  “Ladies,” Chase says, coming between us. He shadows me until Emma and Eden recede in my vision, until all I see is the glossy, melted chocolate of his eyes. “Trust me. This makes it easier on us, I swear.”

  Eden pipes up behind him, “I can keep my mom talking while she sneaks a smoke. Be honest, Callie, you’re not a subtle one when it comes to unearthing evidence.”

  I sigh at her words, but don’t break my stare with Chase. He lowers his head, as if his sincerity is better seen close up.

  But, little does he know, he had me the instant he stepped into view.

  I answer softly, “I trust you.”

  “Okay.” Chase smiles, squeezes my shoulders, and drifts to the side, our covert intimacy crackling between us. “Then let’s do this.”

  We confirm our phone numbers through test texts, and the three of them continue to loiter outside while I go in, drop my stuff off in my room, and get ready for clean-up duty.

  Chase made it clear yesterday that he doesn’t have practice today, unlike the girls’ crew. Knowing that, and that his presence will be outside Thorne House the entire time I attempt the downfall of Briarcliff’s newest princess, comes as a comfort as I put all I have, all I’ve discovered, on the line, with only Dr. Luke’s word as my back-up.

  What other choice is there, though? Jack’s unfair arrest? Chase’s continued suffering? Addisyn living her life of privilege, bolstered by her newfound involvement with the Virtues, and allowing these societies’ continued reign and manipulation of Briarcliff students?

  I’m no superhero, but if I can get Piper’s lost pages, I can get them all. That’s what’s leading me. Not Dr. Luke.

  After dressing accordingly in Briarcliff-issued sweatpants and a PE Dept T-shirt, I throw my hair up and meet Moira on the ground floor. She’s outfitted in the staff uniform of maroon slacks and a white polo shirt with the school’s crest on the left side.

  She greets me with a pleasant smile, and now that I’m given context, I see Eden in that mouth—just a smidge, since Eden rarely stretches her lips as wide as this.

  I now understand why, though.

  “Hi, Moira,” I say as she hands me gloves and a broom.

  “Ready for your last week of purgatory?” she asks with a lighthearted tone, the lines around her eyes crinkling.

  “So ready,” I say, matching her smile.

  “I gotta say, I’ll miss having the extra hands. You’ve been a big help, honey.”

  I fall into step beside her as we start at the nearest room. Moira knocks, waits a minute, then swipes her keycard and motions me inside.

  Veering into the kitchen, I pick up the small trash bin and dump it into the larger trash bag Moira holds open.

  “I didn’t know you and Yael shared a daughter,” I say.

  Moira laughs. “You’re an astute one, aren’t you? Usually students don’t take the time to understand interpersonal relationships of staff members.”

  “He and I make a lot of conversation when he drives me into town,” I say. “Eden came up. I didn’t know she was your daughter, too.”

  Moira cinches the bag shut. Her smile falls. “She is.”

  She walks ahead of me to the next room, and I rush to sweep up the debris and shut the door.

  “I’m sorry,” I say after Moira knocks on the second door. “I didn’t mean to offend…”

  “I’m protective of her.” Moira keeps her attention on the closed door. “And get naturally defensive when a student mentions her. Edie doesn’t have many friends, and, I’m sorry, honey, you’re a lovely girl, but I doubt she’s warmed to you.”

  “Not even a little,” I say honestly. “But we’ve spoken a few times. And have worked on … projects … together. I’m not out to get her. I can promise you that.”

  Moira visibly relaxes. “I’m glad for it. I don’t mean any insult. I wish Edie would spend time with a girl like you, but she’s a woman of her own.”

  “I think she’s strong,” I say as I wander inside and find the next bin.

  Moira goes quiet behind me.

  “I don’t participate in gossip, but I do get sucked in when it’s mentioned.” I turn to Moira’s open bag, tipping the bin. “And Yael mentioned a little. What she’s been through…”

  Moira meets my eye over the crinkling trash bag. “I don’t contribute to gossip, either, but I know what you’ve been through, too. And how hard it’s been for you to talk about. So, maybe we should leave it at that.”

  The warning’s obvious, but I can’t stop the inquisitiveness from slipping out. “Have you heard of the Virtues?”

  Moira’s features go flat. “We’re falling behind with all this chatter. Come on, now, out you get.”

  Properly shamed, I exit the room while Moira leans forward and shuts the door.

  I don’t push the limit any further, but Moira’s frank dismissal of the Virtues does add an additional layer of guilt to what I’m about to do to her, and that her daughter’s involved in it. Not through my doing, but that’s a dumb excuse. I know for a fact that Eden’s involvement this evening is 100% due to my actions.

  “I’m sorry,” I say to Moira’s back, though she can’t know just how much I’m sorry for.

  “It’s all right, honey,” she says over her shoulder. “Let’s finish you up so you can get to your homework.”

  We work in silence on the first floor, and when we get to the second, my heartbeat kicks up. Addisyn’s room is in the middle, which she shares with another sophomore. When Moira’s distracted changing out trash bags, I send Emma a quick text.

  Me: Second floor.

  Emma acknowledges with a thumb’s up emoji, and I stuff my phone in my pants’ pocket when Moira steps from the maintenance room.

  We continue to work in the quiet, but my back is stiffer, my movements jerkier, as adrenaline leaks into my limbs. Moira doesn’t seem to notice, but she’s not meeting my eye, either.

  “The Virtues destroyed my daughter,” Moira says, and at first, it doesn’t register.

  I pause, holding a bin to my chest.

  “We didn’t know of their existence, not until we started work here when Edie was a baby,” Moira continues softly, but she snaps the trash bag open with a loud pop. “We mostly tried to ignore the whisperings, because we liked our jobs and loved the benefits and security that came with it. By the time we realized their influence, Edie was already well into researching them. Trying to be one, my impulsive child. Back then, she was bright, cheerful, heavily into swimming. But within a month of freshman year, she changed. Became withdrawn, snuck out at night, endured massive bullying at school. They called it hazing, you know.” Moira locks eyes with mine. “Testing her limits in a perverted way to see if she was worthy. And that thing is run by adults.” Moira hisses out a breath. “My daughter’s limit was met when her naked body was distributed around school. And instead of my vibrant, dedicated daughter, who loved her swim meets, I have her husk. Don’t
get me wrong, I will always, always, love my girl. But that group of so-called independent, powerful women can burn in hell.”

  I gulp. “Those pictures, she was a minor. Did you … did you go to the police?”

  Moira rustles the bag for me to come closer to dump the contents of the bin in my hands. I do, and when I step closer, notice her shaking grip.

  “Oh, honey, we did,” Moira says, the underline of her eyes going wet. “But by the time we reported, the pictures were deleted. There were none we could point to, and Edie refused to corroborate.”

  “Shit,” I murmur, my heart sinking. It made sense that the Virtues’ influence stretched to the police department, but to think they forced Eden to keep her mouth shut … I’m sick at what they could’ve said, or done to her, to keep her quiet.

  Pressure hits my chin, and I realize it’s Moira, gently tilting my head up.

  “If you’re thinking of taking up with them, don’t,” Moira says, her brown eyes piercing mine. “You are much too sweet and already too tortured to ever endure what they’d have in store.”

  My swallow hits her fingers, and she releases me, blinking.

  “Lord, I need a cigarette after this,” she mutters. “Are you okay to do a couple of rooms without me?”

  I nod, slightly too eagerly, and work to school my features. “Of course.”

  “All right, then. I trust you, honey. Hang tight.”

  After handing me her master keycard, Moira takes the closest staircase exit, and I follow her until she disappears. I’m off-balance and nauseous that I could potentially get her fired. She’s had three weeks of trusting me to do my job, and on the last few days, right when she’s gotten comfortable with me and even imparted motherly advice, I’m about to betray her.

  Then don’t. Be done with it before Moira ever gets back.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I look away from the exit and reach for it.

  Eden: I see her. I’ll try for ten minutes. Will text if sooner.

  Since we’re in a group chat, both Chase and Emma acknowledge the text, and I do too. Going in now, I type, then drop my cleaning supplies and jog to Addy’s room.

  I almost key in immediately before my instincts kick in and tell me to knock first. Stepping back, I do just that, my leg jiggling as I wait for any kind of response.

  When there’s none after thirty seconds, I key inside.

  It takes a minute to figure out which bedroom is Addisyn’s. I’m usually only a few steps inside before I empty the trash, then leave. Thankfully, the dorm room is in the same layout as my own, but on a slightly smaller scale.

  A few seconds into scoping out the pictures tacked to the wall, I realize I have the wrong room, and sprint to the one across the way.

  I’m so bad at this, I think, cringing, but don’t take the time to admonish myself completely, because there is no time.

  I fumble with the bedspread and mattress first, lifting it and finding nothing. I then move to the closet, flicking through clothes, feeling across the top and bottom shelves, opening plastic containers.

  Running to Addisyn’s desk, I pull out drawers, rifling through but not too hard, finding nothing.

  Cursing, I stop long enough to send a text:

  Ten minutes isn’t long enough. Need more time.

  I move to the center of Addisyn’s room, taking a moment to think. Then, deciding to get creative, I look behind the pictures on her wall and, when that doesn’t pan out, move to the backs of the standing photo frames on her nightstand.

  Right when I start to believe I’m a genius detective and will find the missing pages behind a photo of Addisyn and her sister, I come up blank.

  “Damn it!” I hiss, then return the photo to its proper place.

  What would Ahmar do in this situation?

  Hands on my hips, I scan the bedroom, cataloguing each shelving unit and drawer that I’ve searched.

  He’d go through it all again.

  The answer sets off a lightbulb in my head, and I search the same places one more time, like a true detective would. One sweep isn’t enough. One set of crime scene photos won’t show everything. Look at all items again, find the spots you missed, thoroughly search the ones you think provide no evidence.

  I summon as much of Ahmar and Mom’s spirit as I can when I resume my search of Addisyn’s closet, stepping in as deep as possible, my face buried in her lavender-scented clothing hanging on the bars.

  I burrow deeper, and it gets darker, until I’m all the way in the back, feeling the walls. I’m cross sectioning the area in my head, feeling for … I don’t know, a secret drawer, when my foot hits on a loose floorboard.

  “No,” I breathe out, stunned as I stare down where my foot rests. Did I just hit the motherload?

  Gawking never did anyone any good, so I bend down, using my nails to crack open the floorboard all the way, and reach in before I can second-guess what could be greeting me on the other side. A rat’s nest?

  A crinkling, papery feel hits the pads of my fingers, and I lift out the sheaf of papers, my eyes feeling bulbous as they bug out of my head.

  Is this it?

  I rush through the racks of clothes and into the light of Addisyn’s room, taking a closer look at the torn, handwritten pages.

  I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to feel bad for taking Addy’s boyfriend away, but all I feel is a win. She thinks she can do better than me, get the hotter guy, make the better grades, be Virtuous, but that will never be, because I won’t allow it. There’s only one Harrington girl who matters, and that’s me.

  Then, on another page:

  Fuck. Addy’s getting a little crazy. It’s not like I love Jack. I just love to fuck him. Same as I enjoy Chase’s dick and the taste of Mr. S’s cum. I don’t differentiate in levels of caring, but Addy’s acting like I’m stealing her husband and am about to move into a little Cape-town house by the ocean, living in Briarcliff for the rest of my life.

  FUCK. NO.

  Why would I want to marry a poor boy who thinks he’s bad and is working towards a future as a fry-cook at the lobster shack?

  I can do way better, and so can she. Can’t Addy understand I’m doing her a favor? Always following me around, wanting to be me, and the one time I do something for her, she acts like I should die for showing her what a loser her boyfriend really is.

  That’s what she said, dude. “I hope you die for this.”

  Dramatic, much?

  With each word, my cringe gets deeper, my muscles sagging with disgust and disbelief.

  “Jesus, Piper, you really were a caustic bitch,” I murmur, skimming a few more sentences. “Not that you deserved to die, but—”

  “I know, right? A total and utter cunt.”

  My head snaps up at the unexpected voice, meeting Addisyn’s cool, murderous gaze in the doorway.

  32

  The loose papers crunch in my hands. “Addisyn, I—”

  “Don’t bother,” Addisyn says, wandering farther into her room.

  Her tone is calm, her demeanor collected, as she scans her space, pinpointing the sections I hadn’t yet cleaned up. The one tell of emotion is the tightness around her eyes, lidding a glare so hard, so lethal, it’s only contained by her unbreakable, thick skin.

  It’s almost as terrifying as if she came storming in, shrieking at me for going through her stuff.

  Instead of apologizing for my clear violation, I focus on what I’ve found—a worse horror. “These pages, they belonged to Piper’s diary.”

  Addisyn’s sweeping stare stops on me. “They sure did.”

  I wait for a more detailed response, but she doesn’t move. I add, “And … you ripped them out.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Okay. Obviously, I’m taking the lead on this, so I go all in. “You killed her, didn’t you?”

  Addisyn cocks her head, a night owl assessing the mouse skittering below. “What do you think?”

  “You were jealous of her,” I say, inching toward the d
oor. I have the innate sense that if I reach for my phone or call for help, she’ll pounce on me with her talons, turning wild in an instant. If I take small enough steps, maybe she won’t notice. “Because Jack slept with her. Because of her easy membership into the Virtues.”

  She makes a noncommittal sound but won’t stop tracking me.

  I clear my throat, standing straighter. “I think it’s more the latter. The Virtues have a terrible initiation process for those they deem unworthy, don’t they?”

  Addisyn stiffens. I’ve ruffled her feathers.

  “Compared to those they think deserve the title,” I continue. “See, I’ve been ankle-fucking-deep in this shit—my choice, I know—but with what I’ve heard and read, these societies really prefer the older sibling, don’t they? The … help me find the word…” I snap my finger in thought, feeling more than seeing Addisyn’s narrowed gaze. “Legacies. That’s it. The eldest kid gets immediate entry, don’t they? Piper and Chase are some examples. In fact, they tap them when they’re very young.”

  “Fuck you,” Addisyn hisses.

  “Hit a sore spot. Sorry about that.” I’m not sorry, and I doubt I look it, either. “But you, you had to go through a ton of bullshit before even being considered, despite sharing blood with your sister. What were they doing to you? Did you have naked photos spread around, too? Or, did they torture you so badly, you had to set fire to a building in retaliation?”

  “I’m not Eden, nor am I Emma, so stop using them as fucking examples,” Addisyn says.

  “Those are the few I’ve discovered, but I bet I can find out more,” I say, ignoring the thickening blood in my veins, urging me to run. “If you tell me what they did to you, maybe I won’t feel so horrified that you killed your own sister to get in.”

  “They didn’t ask me to do that,” Addisyn blurts, but clamps her mouth shut when she sees my smile. “Bitch.”

  “They helped you cover it up, though. Maybe even accelerated your entry into membership because of the dastardly thing you did. Hell, with what I know, it probably impressed them.”

 

‹ Prev