Chapter Twenty-six
Brynn
I am utterly exhausted when we arrive back at the apartment.
Shane is sitting on the seat next to me, and I know we’re here because the vehicle has stopped, Shane unbuckles my seatbelt, then he tells me to move toward the edge of the seat so he can reach behind me.
He unties the blindfold, and I wince at the sudden brightness of the cabin.
The guys are still wearing their masks—or I guess I should say they’ve put them back on, because while I was blindfolded I heard them talking to each other clearly, not in the slightly muffled way their voices sound when they’re masked.
The one I figured out is Silvan opens the car door and climbs out first. Shane keeps a light hand on my arm, but he lets go and tells me to climb out on my own.
Finally, we all head inside. I’m not exactly sure how I’ll even get back in the apartment given Stacie hasn’t given me a new key, but when we get to the door, Silvan puts a big hand on the knob and gently turns it, and when it’s locked—and no one comes to the door, I suppose—he takes out a little toolkit and begins picking the lock.
I’m surprised he knows how to do that. I don’t know why. I guess my takeaway from what I’ve heard about Silvan is that he’s probably the wealthiest of all of them, so why would a guy like that need to know how to pick a lock?
I don’t know, but he does. The door swings open and Silvan gestures for me to go in, but the guys wait outside.
“Thanks,” I murmur softly, then I frown because what the hell am I thanking them for? Kidnapping me? Only drugging me and literally paralyzing me once instead of the multiple times they likely intended?
This is so fucked up, but I’m too tired to think about it.
I close the door and lock it, looking down the hall to my right before I pass through the living room to make sure Stacie’s bedroom door is still closed and she’s still sleeping.
She is.
I feel depressed when I get back to my bedroom and I can’t gaze lovingly at Toast. It feels reassuring just to know she’s there sometimes.
If I had my car, I would drive to his apartment right now while I know he’s sleeping and steal her right back.
Ironically, some of my things were also at the Rho Kappa house when it burned down, so even if we knew where my car was, I doubt the key works after being burned to a crisp.
My mom has the backup key, but I would have to talk to her in order to get it. Worse than that, I’d have to ask her for something, and honestly, I’d rather never have a car again. Boston is a pretty walkable city. I can get by on public transportation.
I curl up in a bed that no longer feels safe and wonder where I’ll sleep tomorrow.
But I guess that’s tomorrow’s problem.
___
My school day starts with a seminar for my humanities class. It’s supposed to run from 10 to noon, and since my physics class in a different building starts at noon, I always worry about having time to get there.
The hum seminar always lets out a few minutes early, though, giving me just enough time to hustle to the science building. Today, I’m even fortunate enough to be able to squeeze in a quick bathroom break on the way.
I barely get to my seat and class is starting.
Unfortunately, I sit next to Liam in this class, and since Killian made an ass of himself at the gas station, that is extremely awkward.
I must look as good as I feel today, though, because when class is over and everyone is about to leave, Liam takes his time packing his school bag and asks, “Everything all right?”
I nod, flashing him a quick manufactured smile. “Yeah, fine. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Liam’s eyebrows rise ever so slightly, and it’s only after I say the words that I hear how they sound.
Grimacing, recalling Killian flashing the condoms when he slung his arm around my shoulders, I say, “Not like that.”
Liam offers a thin smile.
Lying is never my first impulse, but sometimes it’s where I end up to quickly explain away an awkward situation. I’m not great at it, but in a casual interaction like this, you don’t usually have to be. “Actually, I… was up late brainstorming with my friends. The Zetas,” I say, and though it’s a complete fiction, it brings me a little peace.
In a different version of my life, that could have been how I spent last night.
I got invited to join them after rush week and I moved into the big, beautiful Zeta mansion. I never went to the Rho Kappa Halloween party or met Killian or a single Blue Blood, and instead I spent my free time building my own sisterhood with a group of fun girls who probably have movie nights together and their own sense of family.
Like the Blue Bloods, but not scary, and much less murder.
Probably.
I don’t know what sorority girls get up to.
But I smile at my imaginary life, the one I didn’t qualify for.
It would have been nice.
“Oh yeah?” Liam asks, and I remember I was talking to him. “What are you guys brainstorming about?”
I shift my gaze back to his. “They’re hosting a fundraiser this weekend. I think it starts tomorrow night, actually. There’s an auction and the proceeds are benefiting the Rho Kappa guys since I’m sure you heard…”
His expression shifts in tone from picturing me hanging out with the hottest sorority on campus to moderated solemnity. “Oh, yeah. I heard about the fire.”
I nod with matching solemnity. “So the Zetas wanted to help out, and I have a couple of friends that are Zetas, so… I offered to help out, too.”
There’s a partial truth in there, at least.
“Well, that’s awesome of you,” he says, finally standing since I am.
The awkwardness returns when he praises me for my little fiction, but I’m on my way out of here, so I won’t have to live with it for very long.
“When is the auction? Is it at the sorority house? I’d love to come and show my support.”
“Do you have an iPhone?” I ask. “I can air drop you the flyer.”
“Or you can just text it to me,” he says, a touch playfully.
“I don’t have your phone number.”
“I can think of a way to remedy that.”
He still sounds playful, but my heart sinks a bit.
Noticing my hesitation, he says, “Unless your… boyfriend would have a problem with that.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say quickly, awkwardly, tucking a chunk of dark curls behind my ear as I make my way out of the classroom.
But he would have a problem with that.
I have a problem with some of the things he does, too, though, so I probably shouldn’t let that dictate my life.
I’m not interested in Liam outside of being classmates, but as I hand him my phone in the hall and watch him type his number into the new contact, I wonder if I would have been if I’d never met Killian. He was more my type before. Killian certainly wasn’t.
I’m not sure he is now, but I can’t deny missing him a little—even if he is a low-down dirty catnapper.
Thankfully, there’s no time to think about that. I have to get to my next science class, so I send Liam the flyer Vanessa sent me, and then, with a quick goodbye, I’m on my way.
___
In a strange turn of events, my lie comes true when Vanessa texts me asking if I want to drop by the Zeta house this evening to help them prep for the auction tomorrow.
I have studying to do, but I also have all weekend to do it, and since my conscience is a bit guilty from telling the lie in the first place, I tell her I’d love to.
I haven’t been to the Zeta house since rush week, and to be honest, I’d forgotten how it felt to stand in front of it. House is a misnomer; it’s a mansion.
There are two enormous columns on each side of the double entry doors, and the Greek letters representing the sorority hanging above them on the front of the house. Above the grand entry is a little fenced-in balcony overlooking the street—the only room with a balcony, I remember from my rush week tour. The presidential suite.
Visitors have to be scanned in, so I wait outside the big white doors for someone to grant me entrance. The door opens, and a pretty girl with glossy, stick-straight raven hair greets me with her biggest smile, as if we’re the best of friends.
I’ve never seen her in my life.
“Hi,” she greets warmly, grabbing my arm to pull me in.
“Oh, okay.” I try to quickly acclimate to her level of friendliness and familiarity, and flash her a big smile back.
“I’m Dawn,” she tells me.
“Brynn,” I offer back.
“Hey, Brynn. I take it you’re here to help us with the fundraiser setup?”
“I am.” I nod faintly, looking around the glamorous entryway and eyeing the chandelier hanging in the center of the foyer.
“We’re working right in here,” she says, indicating the archway to the left of the entryway. “Since we obviously had to pull this together pretty quickly, we didn’t have time to get a separate venue for the auction. We’ll turn the dining room into the main area where we’ll host the auction, and as you can see at the back of the room,” she says, gesturing that way, “it opens to the little sitting area out there so we have some more seating.”
There’s nothing little about either room. What she calls a dining room, I call a ballroom, so I can definitely see how they can host a party in here. They moved the tables to accommodate people during rush, too, so I’m familiar with the setup. “Okay. So, do you need me to start folding up tables?” I ask, since that’s what I see people doing.
“Don’t be silly.” That voice comes from behind me, so I spin back around to find Vanessa beaming at me as she comes down the stairs. “She’s with me,” she tells Dawn, flashing her a smile before grabbing my arm.
“Oh. Okay,” I say, smiling faintly. “Where are we going?”
She stops back in the foyer and looks up the winding, elegant staircase. I follow her gaze and my tummy does a tumble when I see Sloane Whitley descending, her well-manicured hand resting lightly on the railing as she walks. Her heels click against the hardwood, and her legs look even longer than usual somehow. Maybe it’s the cut of her tight white mini dress, but man, is she pretty.
Sloane is the Zeta president, and while of course she was here during rush, I did not warrant so much as an introduction. I didn’t feel bad. Most girls didn’t.
Her lips are painted the perfect shade of pinky mauve, and her teeth are straight and white when she flashes me a smile. “Hi, Brynn.”
I’m embarrassed to have a fleeting moment of she knows my name? but it’s like high school all over again, only a girl cooler than any of the ones who ever went to my school is the queen bee and she’s acknowledging me.
“Hi,” I say a bit shyly.
“Thanks for stopping by to help out.”
She casually flips her long blond hair, and it’s like a waterfall of silk. I have to really work at not coming off like a creep, but it’s hard not to stare at her.
I feel a little like I felt when Killian took his mask off for the first time.
People don’t need to be this attractive. It’s borderline inconsiderate to the mere mortals—like me—who are going to make fools of themselves about it.
Sloane is used to being gawked at, though, so if she notices my momentary lapse of composure, she doesn’t mention it. Her gaze briefly rakes over me, though, and I instantly wonder why I didn’t dress cuter to come here. I knew what the vibe at this house was like, and I did not do my part to fit in.
“Sorry,” I say, glancing down. “I look like a total bum.”
I mean, I don’t. I look like a normal student in jeans and a soft pink sweater, but I definitely missed the unspoken message that I should be picture-ready while we worked.
And really, I should have known that. I like the Zetas, but they’re very brand-aware and they post pictures and video compilations of every benefit they put on.
“No, you look great. I love your sweater,” she assures me. “I’ll change into something comfy later, too, but right now, we need to get pictures of everybody for the auction. I’m overnight printing the booklet for this weekend’s event, and I have to make sure the final files are uploaded tonight. We are kind of doing a theme for all the pictures, though. Vanessa should have told you that,” she adds, glancing at Vanessa.
Vanessa swallows. “Sorry.”
“So it’s not your fault that you’re not dressed appropriately,” Sloane concludes with a pleasant smile. “Do you want to borrow something from one of the girls? You can get ready upstairs on the residential floors. We even have showers if you want to take one. Once your hair and makeup’s done and you’re wearing a dress that fits the color scheme, we’ll get a shot of you on the picture wall,” she says, indicating a wall where a girl is presently posing in a cute aqua dress for a photograph. “We’ll also need to get the details for your description. They won’t go in the booklet, that will just be a composite of photos of all the girls participating, but we’ll need that for tomorrow.”
“Wait. Um… I’m sorry, I’m a little confused. I’m not a Zeta, why would I be in the program?”
Sloane glances at Vanessa. “She’s here to be in the auction, correct?”
“Yeah. I mean, that’s what she told me,” Vanessa says, cutting me an uncertain glance.
“The booklet layout is already set for the number of girls you told me we have. The evening has been cut up in timed sections for the number of girls you told me we have.”
Feeling bad for Vanessa’s growing discomfort—fear?—I cut back in. “I’m not saying no, I just… I just thought I was here for free manual labor. I thought Vanessa wanted me to help with setup, but if I misunderstood, it’s not a big deal. I still want to help.”
“Good,” Sloane says brightly, bringing her sharp blue-eyed gaze back to me. “I’m glad to hear it. We love a team player at Zeta.”
“Great. So, wait, why do we need pictures in the… pamphlet? I still didn’t get an answer to that one.”
“Like I said, I’m making a composite of all the girls in the date auction for the date auction page. That way attendees can look it over before the event starts—we’re having a little mocktail reception for when people first come in—and also know the name of the date they’d like to bid on so they recognize it when she’s announced. We have a lot of blondes,” she says lightly, “and not all of the bidders will be discerning, so without the page in the booklet, they may not be able to tell who’s who.”
“Date auction. I wasn’t told anything about a date auction.”
“Oh, we just call it that. It’s not that serious,” Sloane assures me, waving it off. “You wear a cute dress and parade in front of the crowd, and people bid on a ‘date’ with you, but most people don’t even hang out with the winning bidder.”
“But some people do, and they have a good time,” Vanessa says, looking almost disappointed.
Sloane rolls her eyes. “He’s not gonna bid on you, honey.”
“You never know. Anything can happen.”
“His girlfriend would have to get hit by a bus, and even then, I’m not sure you’d be next on the list.”
Vanessa pouts. “When I asked if he was coming, he didn’t say no.”
“He’s not coming,” Sloane states, patting the other girl on the arm. “And he’s not for you. You really need to give it up.”
“It would be the cutest story,” Vanessa insists. “We could tell our kids someday.”
Sloane shakes her head, grabbing my arm. “Let’s leave her in delulu-land and I’ll take you up to Addison’s room so you can get ready.”
I smile faintly, walking with Sloane up the stairs. “I take it Vanessa has an unrequited crush.”
“She has a mental condition,” Sloane says lightly, shaking her head. “He’s doing her a favor by not liking her. He’d literally ruin her life.”
Yep, I know how that goes.
“Anyway, do you have a special talent we can highlight? Addison bakes, so she’s making oatmeal raisin cookies for her winner. Another girl is offering ‘laundry services for all of next week.’ We have a weekend movie date. Another girl is making brownies. One’s offering a back rub, but she already knows her boyfriend is bidding. Date at the art museum. Ice cream date. Cooking class, we have a girl who will teach her date how to make homemade pasta.”
“I can sing,” I say almost apologetically.
“That’s perfect,” she says. “A serenade from the lovely Brynn Blakely.”
“I don’t really want to sing to a stranger, though,” she murmurs. “Sounds a bit awkward.”
“You know Ryan McDermott, right?”
That’s Killian’s friend who picked me up the day I ran into Aiden. “Yeah, we’ve met.”
She nods. “He’ll be here. I’ll tell him to bid on you if no one else does. We have backup bidders in the audience to get things started, and so no one has to worry about being embarrassed by not getting a bid, just in case the organic attendees don’t bite for whatever reason. I can tell Ryan to keep bidding on yours if some rando does so you don’t have to actually sing to anyone. I mean, unless you want to,” she teases. “Ryan is cute.”
I smile faintly, but I don’t know how to label what I have going on with Killian right now, so I don’t say anything.
“For your listing, do you want just guys to be able to bid on you, or guys and girls?”
“Since it’s not really romantic in nature, it doesn’t matter. Whoever wants to donate money is fine with me.”
“Okay,” she says with a little nod.
“Are you going to be up for auction?” I ask her.
“God, no,” she answers automatically, but I think it was an accidentally honest response. She laughs a little as if embarrassed, then looks over at me and explains, “I’m already spoken for.”
“What am I thinking? Of course you are,” I say lightly.