Corrupt

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Corrupt Page 13

by Penelope Douglas


  I stared ahead, knowing what they were waiting for.

  I tossed the match, the small ember bursting into a four-foot flame against the wall, and I let out a breath, feeling the heat against my body.

  All of the guys then tossed their matches, the small house turning into an inferno of yellow and red. Heat flooded my veins, and I smiled.

  “Woohoo,” Will praised in a low howl, filming every inch of the living room going up in flames.

  Slowly, we all turned and walked out of the house, Damon carrying the duffel that Will had carried in, his hands too busy recording the spectacle now.

  Should he be doing that? You didn’t really want evidence floating about when you broke the law, after all.

  “Make the call.”

  I looked up to see Michael tossing Kai a phone as we all pounded down the stairs.

  Kai took the phone and walked off, while I quickly glanced around, keep my head down to make sure there were no witnesses.

  The neighborhood still looked dead.

  I watched Kai as he walked about twenty feet away and lifted up his mask, talking into the phone.

  “Do you know what you’re doing yet?” Michael asked Will.

  He turned off the phone, stopping the recording, and stuck it in his pocket. “Not yet,” he answered as Damon walked past him and stuffed the duffel into the back of Michael’s car.

  “Alright, we’ll do Kai, then Damon,” Michael told him. “Figure it out by then.”

  Figure it out?

  And then it hit me. Kai, Damon, then Will. Which meant Michael was done.

  I turned, staring up at the house, the flames already visible through the second floor windows.

  “So each of you pull a prank on Devil’s Night, and this was yours,” I stated, finally figuring out what he was talking about. “Why?”

  His eyes locked with mine through his mask, and I wondered why he never took it off. The others had peeled theirs away now that the stunt was done.

  “I don’t like drugs or drug houses,” he admitted. “Drugs are a crutch for people too ignorant to self-destruct on their own.”

  I pinched my eyebrows together. “What do you mean? Why would anyone want to self-destruct in the first place?”

  He held my gaze, and I thought he was going to answer the question, but then he walked around me, toward the car.

  I shook my head, disappointed that I didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to say.

  “Let’s go!” he bellowed, and everyone piled back into the car. I spared one last glance at the house, seeing it light up the night sky, and I smiled, hoping Kai had been on the phone calling the fire department.

  He climbed in the driver’s seat, and I opened the door behind him, ready to climb in my seat, but I was yanked back, and the door whipped close right in front of my face.

  My breath caught in my throat, and the next thing I knew my back was slamming into the car.

  “Why did he bring you along?”

  Damon scowled down at me, and I searched his face, confusion wracking my brain.

  “What?” I gasped out.

  “And why did he take you into the catacombs today?”

  What was his problem?

  “Why don’t you ask him?” I threw back. “Maybe he’s bored.”

  His eyelids thinned, glaring at me. “What did you two talk about today?”

  What the hell?

  “Do you interrogate every person Michael talks to?” I charged.

  He shot into my face, growling out his whisper. “I’ve never seen him give a hand-held tour of a fuck party before. Or bring someone along on Devil’s Night. This is ours, so why are you here?”

  I remained silent, gluing my teeth together. I had no idea what to say or even think. I was under the impression Damon, Will, and Kai were on board with this when Michael picked me up earlier.

  Were Will and Kai angry as well?

  “Don’t think you’re special,” he sneered. “Lots of women get him. No one keeps him.”

  I held his eyes, making sure not to let him see me falter.

  “Rika,” Michael called. “Get over here.”

  Damon kept his eyes locked on me for another moment and then backed away, letting me leave. I sucked in a breath, realizing my heart was pounding like a bass drum. I dived around the back of the car to meet Michael on the passenger side.

  He opened the door and climbed in, tossing his mask to Will and then turning his eyes on me.

  He wasn’t driving?

  “Come here.” He held out his hand.

  I inched closer and then gasped as he pulled me into the car, onto his lap, draping my legs across his.

  What? I hooked a quick arm around his neck for support, my ass planted on his thighs.

  “What are you doing? I asked, shocked.

  “We need the room in the back,” he said, pulling the door closed.

  “Why?”

  He let out an aggravated sigh. “Your fucking mouth never stops, does it?”

  I heard Kai snort, and I shot my eyes up, seeing him grinning as he turned the ignition.

  Why had they switched seats? I could just as easily have sat in Kai’s lap.

  Not that I was complaining.

  I let Michael pull me in, my back against his chest, and I blinked long and slow, soaking up whatever was rushing underneath my skin.

  His hand rested on my thigh while his other texted on his phone, his thumb jutting out a mile a minute.

  “Let’s go,” he told Kai. “Hurry up.”

  My jaw ached with a smile as Kai took off. I didn’t know what the hell was next, but all of a sudden, I was having a lot of fun.

  Present

  ANTHROPOLOGY OF YOUTH CULTURE.

  I walked into my first class of this course, already jaded that I’d set myself up for failure. Either I’d relate to it too much or not enough.

  Sure, I’d seen plenty of youth culture in my short years. The Horsemen in high school and the hierarchy they dictated. The mob mentality of the hazing events on the basketball team and whatever went on down in the catacombs.

  The way the guys schemed as much as the girls, and the way we’d all been mirrors of our parents in some way. The few leaders and the many followers, and the only way you could be strong was if you weren’t alone.

  And then there was Devil’s Night. The way much of our town looked the other way and let the youths have that one evening of mischief.

  Youth culture in Thunder Bay was a snake pit. Tread lightly with no sudden movements or someone would strike. Unless you were a one of the Horsemen, of course.

  But that didn’t mean I really knew anything of youth culture, either. My hometown population was largely wealthy and well-connected. That wasn’t the average. How much of a threat would you be without money, connections, and daddy? Was the playing field more level without those perks?

  That’s what I was trying to find out. Without my family name and their money, without my connections and their protection, what was I capable of?

  That’s why I’d left Brown and Trevor and the culture I’d grown accustomed to. To find out if I was a follower or a leader. And I doubted I’d stop until I’d proven it was the latter.

  I walked down the carpeted stairs into the auditorium, scanning the tan seats for a place to sit. Which was difficult.

  The classroom was built for at least a hundred students in staggered seating like that of a movie theater, and it was packed. When I’d registered for this class, I was told it was only offered once every two years, so it looked like a lot of people scooped it up when they could.

  My eyes fell on a few empty seats scattered about, and then I stopped, seeing a brunette with long, silky hair dressed in a thin, beige cardigan. Stepping further down the steps, I glanced at her profile and stopped, recognizing her.

  I hesitated, clutching the strap to my messenger bag. I didn’t particularly want to sit with her.

  But I looked around, seeing places filling u
p, and there were a few empty spots in her row, so I didn’t have to be right next to her, I guess.

  I walked down the row, sliding past the legs of the other students and slid into a chair, keeping an empty space between me and the guy to my right and also between me and the brunette on my left.

  She glanced over and offered a small smile.

  I smiled back. “Hey, you were with Michael the other night, right?” I broached. “At the elevator. We didn’t get a chance to meet.”

  I held out my hand, and she narrowed her eyes, looking confused.

  But then she relaxed, nodding and taking my hand. “Oh, that’s right. The younger brother’s girlfriend.”

  I breathed out a laugh, not bothering to correct her. She didn’t need my life history.

  “Rika,” I told her. “Actually, it’s Erika, but everyone calls me Rika.”

  “Ree-ka?” she repeated, shaking my hand. “Hey, I’m Alex Palmer.”

  I nodded, releasing her hand and facing the front of the class again.

  Professor Cain walked in, with his graying hair, brown suit, and glasses, and immediately began unpacking his bag, taking out papers and setting up his projector. I dropped my bag on the floor, digging out my iPad and propping it up, so I could lay out the keyboard to take notes.

  I tried to keep my eyes forward, but I couldn’t help but take Alex in out of the corner of my eye. She was really beautiful. Her green eyes were exotic and piercing, and she wore skinny jeans and a tank top under her open cardigan. Her body was flawless, sexy, and her tan skin glowed.

  I pushed my hair behind my ear, looking down at my own clothes. Black leggings with knee-high brown-leather boots and an oversized white shirt with a burgundy scarf loosely tied around my neck.

  I let out a breath. It didn’t matter. Even if I had dressed sexier, I’d still wouldn’t look like her.

  “Move,” a deep voice ordered.

  I snapped my head up, my chest immediately caving seeing Damon Torrance standing over me.

  What the hell?

  He glared down at Alex, his black hair gelled and his T-shirt just as dark as his hair and eyes.

  I heard her shuffle, and I twisted my head, seeing her pick up her things and move a few chairs down.

  My mouth hung open, and I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  But he ignored me, brushing my legs as he pushed passed me and sat down on my left, in Alex’s seat.

  “Hey, Rika,” another voice called, and I turned back to my right, seeing Will Grayson take the empty seat on my other side. “How’ve you been?”

  Both settled back in their chairs, and I felt them like walls at my side. I hadn’t spoken to them in three years, and I stared ahead, not knowing what the fuck was going on right now.

  Déjà vu. They were here. They knew I was here. The hair on my arms stood on end, and it was like no time had passed. Three years ago was today.

  I squeezed my fists, noticing the professor coming to stand in front of the class.

  “Hello, everyone,” he greeted, threading his tie though his fingers. “Welcome to Anthropology in Youth Culture. I am Professor Cain, and…”

  I shifted my eyes, the professor’s voice trailing off as I felt Damon’s arm lay across the back of my seat.

  Cain continued to speak, but dread sat like a brick in my stomach. “What are you guys doing?” I asked them, keeping my voice low. “Why are you here?”

  “Going to class,” Will chirped.

  “You go to school here?” I asked, staring at him disbelievingly before turning to Damon.

  His eyes, so cold but so hot at the same time, were on me, as if the teacher and class weren’t even here.

  “Well, we did kind of lose time,” Will mused, keeping his voice low. “I must say I was a little heartbroken not getting a letter from you the entire time we were away. The last night we were free, we all had a lot of fun, didn’t we?”

  No. No we didn’t have a lot of fun. I breathed hard through my nose and hurriedly folded down my iPad and reached over for my bag, getting ready to leave.

  But Will grabbed my wrist, pulling me back up. “Stay,” he suggested in a light tone, but I could tell it was a command. “We could use a friend in class.”

  I yanked my wrist away, the skin burning where he’d gripped it. I pushed my desktop to the side, grabbed my shit, and shot out of my chair.

  But then Damon grabbed the back of my shirt, and my heart skipped a beat as he pulled my ass back down into the seat, whispering, “Get up again, and I’ll kill your mother.”

  I rounded my eyes, my breath turning shallow as fear scorched my skin. What?

  A guy in the row in front of us turned his head, probably having caught that, and pinched his eyebrows together in worry.

  “What the fuck are you looking at?” Damon scowled.

  The guy’s expression turned scared, and he quickly twisted back around.

  Oh, my God. I dropped my stuff and just sat there, trying to figure out what to do. Was he joking? Why would he say something like that?

  But then I stilled, remembering that my mother wasn’t home. She was away. I’d tried calling her several times this past weekend, but then, a couple of days ago, I finally got a text from her saying she was joining Mrs. Crist on their yacht for a cruise for the next month. She was on her way to Europe right now, and our housekeeper took the opportunity to go visit family out of town. The house was completely empty.

  I let out a small breath of relief, relaxing. He couldn’t get his hands on her even if he wanted to. Not right now anyway. He was just fucking with me.

  His arm snaked around my neck again and pulled me back into my seat. I stiffened as he brought me in close.

  “You were never part of our group.” His angry whisper fell on my ear. “You were just pussy being groomed.”

  And then his other hand slid to the inside of my thigh, squeezing it.

  I whimpered in shock and grabbed his hand, ripping it off me. He reached for me again, but I bared my teeth, slapping him away.

  “What the hell is going on back there?”

  I stopped, hearing the teacher’s voice. Facing forward, I glared ahead, feeling eyes on us, but I refused to answer.

  “Sorry, sir.” I saw Damon smooth down his black T-shirt as he slouched in his seat. “Gave it to her nice and good this morning, but she still can’t keep her hands off me.”

  Laughter broke out around the class, and I heard Will’s quiet, self-satisfied chuckle next to me.

  Embarrassment warmed my face, but it was nothing to the anger building under my skin.

  What the hell did they want? This didn’t make any sense. This was mine. This school, this class, this new chance to be happy…I’d be damned if I let them chase me off.

  The teacher shot us a look of annoyance and then went back to his lecture about technology and its impact on youth. Will and Damon settled back into their seats, keeping quiet.

  But I couldn’t concentrate.

  I just needed to make it through class. I just needed to get out of here and get back to my apartment and…

  And what?

  Who would I complain to? Michael?

  Michael. He lived at Delcour, only one floor above me. The guys would be there. Frequently, probably.

  Shit.

  After years in jail, I would’ve thought they’d be long gone after that much loss of freedom.

  But here they were. I guess this was more fun for them?

  I dropped my gaze, seeing the tattoos scaling down Will’s left arm. He hadn’t had those when I last saw him. Giving Damon a sideways glance, I saw that his arms were still bare. I didn’t know why I wondered if the guys had changed or not, but one thing was for sure. They were still very much the same.

  Minutes passed, and eventually Damon moved his arm around the back of my chair again. I remained frozen as I focused ahead and tried to listen to the lecture that was turning into more of a rant.

  “The problem
with your generation,” the professor preached, sticking his hands into his pockets, “is a bloated sense of entitlement. You feel owed everything, and you want it now. Why suffer the sweet agony of watching a television series just to find out the big reveal you’ve waited years to discover when you can just wait for the entire series to appear on Netflix and watch all fifty episodes in three days, right?”

  “Exactly!” a guy on the other side of the room blurted out. “Work smarter, not harder.”

  Everyone laughed at the guy’s dig.

  Bloated sense of entitlement? What?

  “I’ve been dreaming about those lips,” Damon said low in my ear, bringing me back. “You know how to suck cock yet, Rika?”

  I recoiled, my stomach rolling. But he pulled me back in.

  He’s just messing with you. Ignore it.

  “But working hard builds character,” the teacher continued to argue with the student. “You aren’t born with respect and reverence. You learn patience and value through struggle.”

  I forced myself to listen, but then my breath caught in my throat when Damon’s hand gripped my hair at my scalp and held me tight and still.

  “Because when I shove myself down your throat,” he whispered over my cheek, “you better know how to take it and love it.”

  I jerked my head away from him, growling under my breath. Sick fuck.

  “Nothing worth having comes easy,” a girl went on, backing up the professor’s argument.

  “Exactly,” he agreed, pointing out his finger in excitement.

  Jesus. I rubbed my hands over my face, unable to keep up. There was something I wanted to say, but I couldn’t remember what it was.

  Dammit, what was the professor talking about?

  I sighed and shook my head.

  “Yes?” I heard the professor call out.

  When no one said anything, and Will and Damon had gone still, I slowly raised my eyes, seeing Cain looking directly at me.

  “Me?” I asked. I hadn’t said anything.

  “You seem frustrated. Would you like to contribute to the discussion other than distract the class with your boyfriends?”

  My heart sunk. Will laughed under his breath next me, but Damon remained quiet on my other side.

 

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