by Caitlyn Dare
"Come on, let's go home and see if your girl is still there."
My heart aches at his words. Even if she is, it's not like I'm going to get to spend any time with her. She'll be with him, playing her part, and I'll be forced to the sidelines, just biding my time.
"Easton," Channing says as I reluctantly stand, ready to head toward the lot.
"Yeah."
"Not a word about this to Sasha. I can't get her hopes up again.”
I nod sadly. He's right; we need to start trying to protect the girls in any way we can. Neither of them deserves any of this bullshit.
"Whatever you need, man," I say, slapping him on the shoulder as he stands, and together we head for his car.
Everyone's cars are already in the driveway when we pull up, all of them having finished classes earlier than us today, and as we make our way through to the kitchen, the sound of their voices from the den carries down to us.
"I guess we'll be expected to join the party," I mutter quietly as we each grab a drink.
"Just play your part, bide your time. It's all we can do."
"And just how many people am I going to be expected to kill in that time?" I ask, bringing up a question I really don't want the answer to.
I've shoved the events of that night so far down in a little padlocked box inside that it's almost like it never happened.
Apart from I know it did. The memories are all too real.
I'd wanted to tell Mia when I went to her place. I’d wanted to confess. But then I looked into her soft eyes, saw the excitement within them about my being there, and I couldn't do it.
I hate that she already thinks I'm one of them, despite knowing I don't want to be. If I told her that, would she even have let me stay?
I'm a monster for doing what I did.
I'm no different than him.
"Those orders come from above, Bex. Whether Cade is here or not. There are some things that, no matter what we manage to achieve, will always stay the same."
Whether Cade is here or not.
"Are you trying to get rid of him?" I hiss.
"Don't," he warns a second before Ashton strolls into the kitchen behind us.
"Ladies, how's it hanging?" he drawls. "Got some banging fucking pussy in the den. Come check it out."
My mouth goes dry at his suggestion as images I don't need from previous experiences with girls in the den play on my mind.
"We'll be right there. Just grabbing some food."
"Good plan, man. You're gonna need it. They're fucking wild."
Ashton grabs his junk through his sweats and backs out of the room.
"He's a douchebag," I mutter under my breath, making Channing bark out a laugh.
"Putting it mildly. He's a motherfucking leech. Shouldn't even be here. Here, eat up. Like he said, you're probably going to need it."
"You're right. I have my suspicions that I’m not going to want to stay down long."
The music and voices get louder as we move toward the den. Channing slips inside as if it's just another day in hell for him, while I come to a stop in the doorway, my eyes briefly running over everything that's happening before me, searching her out.
I want to say that I relax when I find her, but that would be a lie because she's tucked into Cade's side. Her hand is high up on his thigh, while he has her skirt bunched up and her ass in his palm.
My stomach churns, watching him touch what's mine, and I know immediately that I made the right call with the food. There's nothing in my stomach right now, and I already feel like retching.
"Easton, come in. What do you fancy? Blonde, brunette, redhead?" He points with his chin toward the girls, and I reluctantly follow his instruction.
Ashton and Brandon are, unsurprisingly, knuckle deep in two of the six girls that are littered around the room. The girls moan loudly—fakely—as they play with them.
But it's when my eyes land back on Alex that they nearly fall out of my head.
"What have you given him?" I growl, ripping my eyes away from him and the two girls on the couch on the other side of the room.
"Me?" Cade asks as if he's totally innocent. "I haven’t given him anything. All his own doing."
I take a step toward him as one of the girls, the one who's sitting on his face, falls over the edge. Her hands lift, cupping her naked breasts, tugging at her nipples like she doesn’t have an entire roomful watching her while the other sucks Alex off.
"Leave him," Cade growls, making me stop my advance. "He's just enjoying himself. You really should do the same. Shelly and Grace over there are experts at making things seem that much better. Right, girls?"
Cade nods at them and they immediately start stalking toward me.
At least these two are still fucking dressed.
Mia isn't looking at me right now—she hasn't since the moment I appeared—but as the girls approach, I feel her eyes shift to me.
"Hey, big boy. You ready to play?" one of them purrs, making my lips curl in disgust.
I'm sure they're both very beautiful underneath the layers upon layers of makeup.
"I'm good right now. I really need to go shower before…" I trail off, knowing that nothing is going to happen here.
"Aw, that's okay, sweetie. You smell pretty fresh to me," the other says, leaning in and pressing her nose to my neck.
"If you'll excuse me…" I take a huge step back from them. "Maybe make use of each other if you're that desperate. Give Kingsley a nice little show."
I have no idea if they accept my challenge, and I really don't give a fuck as I march toward the door.
"Easton," Cade barks. I stop, but I don't look around. I can't. I can't see him with his hands on my girl right now.
I'm barely holding on as it is.
"You're an ungrateful sonofabitch, you know that?" he barks. "All of this is for you. You must be going crazy, not getting your dick wet now."
Shaking my head, I storm away and to the stairs.
One question rings out in my mind as I leave the disaster happening in that room behind.
If it weren't for Mia, would I have been like Alex and just caved in to temptation?
I want to say no, but there would have been nothing stopping me. It's not like I haven't had issues saying no in the past. That thought is one of the reasons I don't turn toward my own room when I get to the top of the stairs, but Sasha's.
I knock and wait for her to call out.
"Hey," I say softly, slipping into the room and closing the door behind me.
She's laid on her bed, already in pajamas, her eyes blown and her little tin sitting beside her along with discarded textbooks.
"Is it still going on down there?" she asks, although I think she already knows the answer because she doesn't allow me time to respond. "I tried to get her away, but he wasn't having any of it."
I nod at her, because I have no doubt she's telling the truth.
"Channing joining in?" she asks sadly.
"H-he… he um… he's in the room, but that was as much as I saw."
"He'll cave," she says with a confidence I'm sure she doesn't want. "He always does. Got to impress the king," she mutters, attempting to mimic his deep voice.
"He doesn't want them, Sash," I say, walking into her room and dropping down on the end of the bed.
"Maybe not, but he still has them."
"I hate to break it to you, but I've seen you with a few guys that haven't been Channing as well."
"Can’t' beat 'em, join 'em." She blows out a long breath. "It was just to hurt him. To see if me being with others affected him as badly as seeing him with the girls did me."
"It does," I state, knowing that if he feels for Sasha even an ounce of what I do for Mia, then it rips him apart every single fucking time.
"Can I?" I nod to her tin.
"Bex," she warns.
"This isn’t my first rodeo, Sash. I know what I'm doing." I think back to my darkest days in Sterling Bay, and I wonder just how true those
words are.
But right now, it's either this, or I go downstairs, rip Mia away from that cunt and make sure that he never leaves the motherfucking room again. But I already know one of those can't happen, so…
I take the tin from Sasha's outstretched hand and pop it open.
"Thanks," I mutter, picking two out and throwing them back.
Let the oblivion begin.
18
Mia
The next day, Cade acts like nothing is wrong, but I note the way he suffocates me with attention. He was waiting for me outside my dorm this morning with a smirk on his face. A dark smile full of promises. He held my hand a little too tightly and insisted on walking me right to each class and making a show of kissing me goodbye.
It’s like he’s unravelling. Becoming more possessive and angrier.
“You can let her eat, man,” Channing says, and Cade practically growls at him.
We’re sitting in their private dining room, having lunch. Cade has me pulled close into his side, his arm draped over my shoulder as he eats his taco salad.
Bexley glances over but quickly averts his eyes. He’s pissed. It radiates off him like a forcefield, but I don’t blame him. I blew him off yesterday and gave him little to no explanation why.
God, this sucks.
I pick at my food, but my appetite is nonexistent.
“You should eat something,” Sasha says as if she can hear my thoughts.
“We could always go for another picnic,” Cade whispers against my ear, except he doesn’t whisper at all. He says it loud enough to make sure everyone hears.
“Picnic?” Ashton snorts. “I bet the only thing on the menu was pussy sandwich.”
“Pig,” Sasha mutters over the guys’ laughter. But Bexley isn’t laughing. He looks murderous. I risk meeting his eyes, silently pleading with him not to make a scene, but he drops his glare, my stomach falling right along with it.
“We had some fun.” Cade smirks at me, and I want nothing more than to stab my fork through his eye. “Right, babe?”
Just then his cell vibrates, and he drops his arm from my shoulder and digs it out of his pocket.
“I need to take this,” he says, leaving the table. I let out a small breath. I’ve gotten good at holding my breath whenever he’s around. Walking on eggshells and waiting for whatever bomb he’s about to drop next.
I try to catch Bexley’s eye again, to reassure him that nothing has changed between us, but he won’t look at me.
A minute later, Cade slides back into his chair. “We’ve got a job tonight,” he says to no one in particular.
“What kind of job?” Bexley sits straighter, and I notice the way he grips his silverware.
“Don’t worry, Easton. You’re off the hook tonight. This doesn’t concern you.”
“Like fuck it doesn’t.” He slams his hand down on the table. “I’m as much Electi as you are.”
Bexley’s outburst startles me.
“Well, not tonight, you’re not. Q was clear about who they want involved, and your name didn’t come up. Guess you’ve got a way to go to prove yourself.” Smugness drips from Cade’s voice.
Bexley leans forward a little, gritting his teeth. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“Easton, leave it,” Channing says, while Tim, Brandon, Ashton, and Alex watch the two of them stare each other down.
“You should listen to Rexford.”
The air crackles with tension, but eventually Bexley concedes. Pushing back from the table, he shoots up. “I’m going to class. Alex?” He glances at his friend.
“I… uh, I’m still eating.”
“Whatever.” Bexley stalks off out of the room.
“Watch him,” Cade says to Channing. “He seems to listen to you.”
“You want me to babysit him?”
“Just keep an eye on him. We can’t have him making waves.”
“Too late for that, if you ask me.” Ashton pins me with a dark stare, but I don’t cower, glaring right back.
“Relax, Ash. Easton knows he needs to play nice.” The way Cade says the words, so cockily, so full of conviction, makes me wonder what he’s up to.
“You should hang out with Sasha tonight,” he says to me, letting his hand drift up my thigh. Thankfully, I have shorts on, so he can’t get very far.
“Actually, I was thinking of going to see my parents.”
He stiffens—only for a second, but I catch it.
“What?” I ask him.
“Nothing.” He gives me a thin smile. “I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you. While you’re there, you should talk to your mom about the Coglio. There isn’t long left, and you’ll need a dress.”
My heart drops. He’s right. It’s next weekend.
“Maybe I’ll do that,” I force out.
The guys go back to their regular conversation. I watch Alex laugh and joke with them, and I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
“Hey, you okay?” Sasha asks me, and I manage a small nod. As crazy as it is, I am okay.
But I shouldn’t be.
And that’s what worries me.
Bexley wasn’t in economics. I spent the entire hour deliberating whether to text him but in the end, decided against it.
Sasha meets me outside class. “All set?”
“Yeah. Listen, thanks for doing this.” She offered to give me a ride to my parents’ house. I wasn’t lying when I told Cade I want to see them.
I just wasn’t entirely honest about why I’m going home.
“Anytime. I’m going home for a few days, anyway. I think I need some space.”
“From Channing?”
“From everything.” She lets out a heavy sigh.
“I know that feeling.” I sink back against the soft leather seat, watching the scenery roll by. It’s hard to believe that less than two months ago, I was just a girl about to start college. Everything is different now.
I’m different.
And my freedom from this place seems to move further out of reach with every passing day.
We ride in comfortable silence until Sasha turns onto my street. “Nice place,” she says, and I roll my eyes.
“You live in a mansion.”
“Just because something’s pretty doesn’t mean it’s good inside,” she says with an air of sadness.
The more I get to know Sasha, the more I can’t imagine growing up as an Electi heir but knowing you were born the wrong sex to ever inherit the power that comes with the title.
“Will you be okay getting back?” she asks me, and I nod.
“My dad will give me a ride.”
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Stay safe.”
Her words hit deep, but I force a smile. “You too.”
My dad’s car is missing from the driveway, but I’m not here to see him.
Traipsing up the driveway, I test the door, only to find it locked. Digging out my keys, I slip inside. “Mom,” I call. “It’s me.”
She isn’t home. As I expected, she’ll either be out for happy hour drinks or at the spa with her friends.
I drop my bag on the floor and chuck my keys on the sideboard, moving deeper into the house. This was the house I grew up in. The house where I learned to walk and fall down, the house where I was loved and nurtured. But it all feels tainted now. The memories I have of learning and growing all feel like some grooming experiment.
I never wanted to be a prosapia. I always knew I’d have to enter the Eligere… but I didn’t know.
How could I?
It’s hard not to feel bitter about that. It’s hard not to resent my parents for just handing me over to Cade like some prize cow.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I didn’t come here for a trip down memory lane.
I pull out my cell phone and quickly text Mom.
Mia: Hi Mom, I came home but you’re not here. I can’t stay too long; will you be home soon?
A couple of m
inutes pass, but she texts back.
Mom: Sweetheart, why didn’t you call first? You know I hang out with the girls today. I’ll be home in a couple of hours. Please, stay. I’d love to see you.
Mia: I’ll try. Have fun xo
Letting out a steady breath, I pocket my cell phone and make my way to the back of the house to Dad’s office. He doesn’t keep it locked. He doesn’t need to. He trusts his family implicitly.
Maybe he shouldn’t.
The thought flashes through my head, but I shake it off. Unlike the archives floor at the Town Hall, everything looks exactly the same in here.
There’s a big desk pushed into one corner, with Dad’s computer sitting proudly atop of it. The bookcase on the opposite wall houses an array of old books and filing boxes, labelled with things like ‘house finances,’ ‘work,’ and one that catches my eye. It isn’t labelled with anything except the Quinctus crest.
A trickle of something goes through me as I approach the shelf. It’s sitting right there, nestled along the rest of the filing boxes.
Hiding in plain sight.
I don’t know what I expect to find inside, but my fingers tremble as I pluck the box off the shelf and sit down on the chair beside the bookcase. Pressing the catch, I lift the lid and peer inside the box. It all looks innocent enough. Paperwork with Mayor Cargill’s official seal. I scan the faded text, quickly realizing it’s my father’s letter of employment. No wonder it looks so old and worn—he’s worked for Phillip Cargill for as long as I can remember. I pull out the stack of paper and flick through the rest, but I don’t understand most of it. There’s nothing here. Feeling frustrated, I straighten them into a pile and start to place them back inside when a slip of paper flutters out.
Gently edging it out, I scan the handwritten scrawl.
It’s a list of names. Names I don’t recognize, all except one.
Gregory Kingsley.
My spine tingles as I clutch the note, wondering what it can possibly mean. Cade’s father was Quinctus. It makes sense my dad would have crossed paths with him, since he and Phillip both worked together.