by Dukey, Ker
“The driveway gates are locked, but the walkway gate is ajar.” He winks, lighting up his cell phone and holding it under his chin. “You scared?” he mocks.
Leaving the car parked under a canopy of trees across the street, I jog over to him and squeeze through the space left by the gate.
The grounds expand like black sand instead of grass under the cloak of night. About a quarter mile from where we entered is a tall, church-like building veiled in darkness, all except a lit candle flickering from the open entrance door.
“It’s so cloak and dagger,” God says, almost laughing.
This isn’t a joke to me. He doesn’t need The Elite and can take it or leave it, but I need them.
The huge, wooden door creaks under the strain and echoes through the stone corridors that greet us inside. The stone floors carry our movements, making our presence known as we descend farther inside.
We come to a circular room lit with more candles. A silhouette shadow of a male creeps up the wall like a phantom, making me search the room for the owner.
A broad figure steps out from a pillar, wide and tall, short black hair, and hard steel eyes making us out through the threshold of the space between us.
“Hey.” He lifts his chin in our direction. I recognize him from Lillian’s waiting area. He sees her too.
Before I have time to dwell on it, more footsteps sound from the doorway and two more males join us. I recognize one of them from campus and the other from the club last night.
There’s a weighted anticipation in the air, sending a warm thrill of nervous energy coursing through my veins.
“So, do we wait here or…?” one of the guys asks while looking around the room and folding his arms over his chest. They’re both athletically built like God and me.
“I’ve been through the entire place. This is the only room lit up, and I found this,” the broad guy with the goatee says, holding up a scroll type thing and pointing to a pew against the wall.
“It was on there.” He nods his head.
“What does it say?” God asks, pulling out his cell phone turning on the flashlight, using it to search the darker parts of the room.
The place is empty. Leaves and debris litter the floor, and some graffiti has been written on the stonewalls.
“It says we have to wait for all seven of us to be here.”
An awkward silence fills the room for a few seconds, until another two males join us, looking windblown and nervous. Shaggy hair hangs in one guy’s green eyes. They’re freaky, like fucking jewels. The other is well put-together, his hair standing up on end from his scalp.
“Hey,” they say, coming into the room.
God moves his finger to each person in the room, counting us, then grins. “That’s seven.”
The big dude stands before us and unravels the scroll. It’s a little gimmicky, but most fraternities have stupid initiations, so this is tame compared to the horror stories that come out of most campuses—and this was no sorority.
Clearing his throat, the big dude reads out, “If you stand in this room, you are witness to the chosen seven candidates. The Elite Seven.” He looks up to survey his audience before continuing. “Pride. Wrath. Lust. Sloth. Gluttony. Greed. Envy.”
“Do we get to choose? Because I can see me being prideful.” God winks at me.
I nudge him with a, “Shhh,” under my breath and continue to listen to what’s being said.
“The Elite is made up of the best our school has to offer, and you have the honor of proving yourself worthy.”
The guy to my left clasps his hands together and rubs them.
“Your oath to the society will be given in action. You will perform assignments to show your obedience and dedication to The Elite. In return, you will be welcomed into a society rich, not just in wealth, but in status, influence, opportunity. You’ve been chosen as the crème le de crème of St. Augustine, and you will be joining the ranks of the most powerful and influential members of society.”
The man flexes his jaw, and there’s a spark in his eyes as he looks over us again. He’s excited, just like I am. We need this.
“Above all things, we pride ourselves on candidates that will prosper long after school ends. The Elite is for life. It will become part of you. Keeping the society’s secret is of utmost importance, and any indiscretion will be punishable by the full force of the society.”
Taking a breath, he straightens his shoulders. “Our power is unimaginable and all that is given can be stripped away should you break your oaths.”
A tense pull in the air thickens and pulses. That’s a threat if I ever heard one.
“Your initiation begins with the bonding of seven. The men in this room are your brothers. The brotherhood of the seven is unbendable. You are no longer one person, you are seven.”
A low whistle from the green-eyed dude punctures the air, his messy hair windswept over his head.
“I always wanted brothers.” He grins, and there’s something wild and untamed within it.
Ignoring his statement, the big dude continues.
“To be chosen for The Elite is of the highest honor, and for this reason, Pride is always chosen as the conduit between the initiating members and The Elite.”
“Me,” God lifts his chin on a whisper.
“Pride leads the seven. Prove yourselves worthy of full initiation, and you’ll be welcomed into the best society the world has to offer. Your given sin reflects your abilities and personality in life, so shall it be in sin.”
Blowing out a breath of anticipated air, he puts us out of the misery of suspense.
“Mason Blackwell, Pride.” He looks up and gestures a hand to his chest. “That’s me.”
God’s posture turns rigid.
“Samuel Gunner, Wrath,” he reads out next, and the guy with the perfect hair steps forward.
“Rhett Masters…” Thud. “Lust.”
Lust. Of course I’m lust. I hold a hand up to let the others know I’m Rhett.
“They don’t call him Romeo for nothing,” God snorts.
“Rush Dempsey, Sloth.” Slouching against the back wall, one of the two who first arrived steps forward, no emotion showing on his features.
“Micah Dixon, Greed.” A shoulder shrug, followed by, “I’m insatiable, what can I say?”
“Sebastian Westbrook, Envy.” The guy with the feral air about him narrows his eyes on Pride, then laughs before wrapping an arm around my shoulders like we’re old friends.
“I do envy you. Lust, huh? Nice,” he leans in and growls in a playful manner.
“Baxter Samuel Goddard the Fifth, Gluttony.”
Gluttony for God? He does love everything in excess. I study him for a reaction, but his features are unreadable, and then Pride continues talking, distracting me.
“Good luck, and may your sins be worthy.”
I’m fucking pumped. This is everything I wanted.
“There’s a card,” Pride announces, holding up an invitation type card like the ones we’ve been receiving.
God takes the three strides to Pride, and plucks it from his hand, opening it up.
“To bond your brotherhood, you will indulge in the sins of the body, in Lust.”
He grins, waving the thing like a fan. Grabbing God’s wrist to halt his movements, Pride takes back the card and scans his eyes over it. “There’s an address. Let’s go.”
Silence fills the car as God swerves from lane to lane, watching in his rear-view mirror for Wrath and Envy to catch up. His pupils are the size of pinpricks, and his hand taps against the wheel incessantly.
“You feeling all right?”
His head snaps between me and the road as he nods, then laughs.
“Yeah, why?”
“You just seem more jittery than usual.”
He sniffs, then shakes his head. “I just wanted to get a work out in before we did the party scene.”
God is a gym freak. We both stay fit, but he took working out to a
new level and had the body to prove it. He was like carved marble.
“I’m sure you’ll get some working out in tonight.” I waggle my brows, and it gains me a knowing smile.
The house we pull up to is gated, a plantation home like God’s, only not as big.
A security guard meets us at the entry, his bulky frame taking up the entire driver’s side window. He taps his knuckles on the glass, and I lower the window.
“Tattoo or coin?” he asks.
Patting down my pockets, I rummage and pull out the coin I woke up with after the night at the club. God flicks open a tray built into the dash hidden from view. We both hold them up, and the guy takes them, inspecting their authenticity. Satisfied, he hands them back, then nods for us to go ahead.
The gates open to a short driveway leading to the impressive house. White pillars stand proud around the entire property, a grand balcony wrapping around the entire upper floor.
Parking the car, God offers me a raised brow, and I grin over at him.
“You scared?” I repeat his words back at him.
“Ask me again once we’re inside. And FYI, I’m not fucking the Pride dude. He looks like a giver.”
“Ha!” I bark out, holding my gut. “I don’t think we have to fuck each other, but good to know you’re on board with the lengths we’ll have to go to get full initiation,” I jest with a soft punch to his arm.
“What’s funny?” Envy asks, coming up behind us, but his interest turns sharply to the house in front of us. With a low wolf whistle, he takes in all it has to offer.
“God was just letting me know how willing he is to get fucked for the brotherhood.”
I wink.
“Amen to that.” Envy smirks.
The others join us, and with a little apprehension in our steps, we climb the few leading to the porch.
“Ready to sell your soul for The Elite” Pride grunts, knocking his knuckles on the door.
When it opens, we’re whisked into a world of pleasure and sin.
Soft music makes love to the air, setting the tone. Women, lots and lots of fuckable women, parade around in sexy underwear with seductive masks covering their faces.
“Leave your morals at the door, guys.” Envy licks his lips and disappears into the sea of flesh.
This is a lot easier than I thought it was going to be.
Drugs, whiskey, skin, sweat, moans of pleasure. Hands everywhere, lips in new places, and positions I’d never used in my life.
If all the initiation tasks are like the one a few nights ago, this shit is going to be a breeze and I’ll be a full member in no time.
The corridors of St. Augustine seem richer to me now. It’s odd, but I almost feel like I’m part of history—like I belong.
Shifting in class, I see everything with new eyes. I hadn’t noticed him before, but looking around my economics class, I see Pride in the far back corner, his eyes already on me, assessing. He’s intense, and I like that about him. He seems focused on The Elite, like me. I want to know his story. He leans into the kid sitting beside him, and when the kid grabs up his things and stands, Pride lifts his chin, then tilts his head, gesturing for me to take the seat next to him.
“This isn’t musical chairs.” The professor sighs as I make my way over to the vacant seat.
“Hey,” I greet him, and he taps his pen to his wrist. “Nice watch.”
Yeah, it is.
I still have to return this to God. Not that he gives a shit. If I wanted to keep it, he would just pay his jeweler for it. But I’m done with hand-outs. I’ll earn my way.
Allowing myself a few beats to run my gaze over Pride, I take note that he doesn’t wear brand clothing. His boots are military-style, built for longevity rather than fashion. He doesn’t come from money like the rest of us and that intrigues me. From what I’ve heard of The Elite, they usually only look at members from wealthy backgrounds. Prestigious names. Maybe they are switching things up.
“Meet me at the initiation place two nights from now,” Pride whispers, and then he’s on his feet, leaving the class halfway through.
He made me move seats for that?
At lunch, I’m joined by Envy and Wrath. We sit in silence at first, then, like he has bees in his pants, Envy slams his hand on the wood before climbing on top of the table to plant his ass.
“We should do something tonight. Let’s go out.”
“I’m down.” I grin, swigging my soda. “I need a high, and bonding with our brothers is what we’re supposed to be doing, right?”
“Right,” Envy booms. He’s almost vibrating. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was already high. He suddenly goes deathly still, his eyes almost darkening before my own.
Following his stare, my gaze lands on a female coming toward us. Gray eyes stare at us through a veil of brown hair, and a trim physique is showcased in a flirty summer dress. She stops at our table and hands something to Wrath. “You forgot your wallet this morning.” She doesn’t wait for his reply. Her eyes dart to mine and linger for a moment, then she’s gone.
“Who was that?” Envy asks, getting to his feet, his gaze still following her.
“My sister, so stop checking out her ass,” Wrath almost growls.
A grin tugs at my lips. That must be a nightmare for him. She’s stunning. I’d bet my life on the fact that every friend he’s ever had has made a pass at her—or wanted to, at the very least.
“She gave me that look.” Envy announces, and I cough to cover up my laugh. He must be trying to rile up Wrath. That girl didn’t even glance his way.
“If it was the look of staring at a dead man, you’re right,” Wrath warns, throwing a fry at him.
“Does she go here?” he asks, pushing his luck.
Jumping to his feet, Wrath grabs him in a playful headlock. They squabble while I finish my sandwich.
Releasing him, Wrath salutes us and begins to back away. “Where should we meet?”
“My house,” I tell him. “I’ll text the address.”
“I already know where it is,” Envy informs me.
Frowning, I gather my shit up and toss my trash. “Stalk much?” I joke, but his face falls like I slapped him. “I’m kidding. Meet me around nine,” I reassure him.
Heading inside, my feet come up short when blonde curls brush past me in a hurry, she almost gets hit in the face with the door.
“You need to slow down,” I bite out, reaching for her. She doesn’t fight my grip on her wrist, but doesn’t turn to face me either.
A sniffle sounds, then a soft croak. “Can you get off me now?”
Moving around her, I tuck a fallen lock behind her ear without thinking, and my heart drops.
Pretty eyes glisten with tears. Red streaks mar her soft, pale cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice dropping low.
I don’t understand it, but there’s real concern in my tone. Seeing her so distraught leaves an uneasy stirring in my gut.
“Nothing. I have a cold. Please just let me past,” she begs, trying to sidestep me.
I block her exit and take her by the shoulders, moving her out of the path of the exit door and over to a secluded corner.
She huffs, but allows me to guide her before she breaks away from my hold. Dabbing her eyes, a weird snort-hiccup escapes, and then she’s laughing.
“Oh my god, I’m a mess,” she giggles. It’s not natural, and I see real pain in her features. But I’m out of my comfort zone. My mother was always very private with her emotions apart from when Robbie…
“I’m sick of being me, you know? The expectation. When can I come up for air and take a breath?” She blows, pulling me back from Robbie’s ghost.
I don’t say anything, allowing her to vent.
“My father is a slave to his urges, but expects me to be some study machine and not let loose just one time, you know?” she continues, pacing back and forth a few steps.
She grabs the fabric of her blouse across her chest just above her t
its, and thumps her hand down, drawing my eyes there.
“I just want to have a good time without worrying what’s going to get back to him,” she huffs, stilling her posture and taking me in.
Her observation of me is almost obscene.
Bright eyes stroke over every inch of me, lingering on my dick for far too long before roaming back up to my lips.
The scrutiny makes me squirm. It’s unexpected and horny as fuck.
Taking me off guard and confusing the shit out of me, her body launches at me. Before I even realize what the hell is happening, soft, fat lips crush to mine, hands find their way into my hair, and soft tits press against my chest as her warm tongue slips into my mouth.
It’s rushed, rough, inexperienced, and fucking perfection.
Her sweet apple blossom scent wraps its arms around me, cocooning me in the moment. I wrap her in my embrace and back her against the wall, devouring her mouth, nibbling and caressing. My dick hardens, demanding I push against her. Suddenly, her body stiffens beneath mine, and her hands drop to my shoulders, pushing me.
I pull away, dizzy with lust. I breathe deep, ready to fuck her right here in the corridor.
Red swollen lips tremble, and wild, sex-crazed eyes dance with trepidation.
“I’m sorry. Oh my god, what am I doing?” she all but squeals. “This was…” She frowns.
“Horny as hell?” I offer.
“A mistake.” She focuses those blues on me.
“A beautiful mistake,” I counter with a swipe of my tongue across my lips.
“You better not tell a soul about this. Promise me.”
“What?”
“Promise me?” she says, more urgent.
“Who would care?” I laugh, but her eyes narrow to slits.
“I don’t want to be one of your conquests,” she growls before crossing her arms and storming off.
Who the fuck would I tell?
Moans, fake and high-pitched, greet me when I get home. The naked form of a female is laid out on the study room floor on what looks like a tarp.
What the actual fuck?
I move closer, then halt. My dad is standing above her, hovering at her head, holding his dick. He begins pissing on her as she pants and rubs it in like its nectar from the gods.