Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Ashleigh
M y gut clenches as I slide into my car and follow him out onto the main campus road. Something is not adding up, and I’m sick and tired of not having any answers. Tonight, one way or the other, I will have them.
Loud thumps ring my ears as my pulse pounds through my veins. I’ve never tailed someone before. Maybe I should have looked that up before coming here. But no, I wanted to do a bit more titillating research instead.
Now I’m paying for it, it seems.
Cars slide in and out from between us, turning into other buildings or side roads. For a bit, there is some protection between us. With a few cars acting as a buffer, he won’t know I’m following him. Now, I’m the one in the middle with others coming up behind me.
I release and tighten my grip on the steering wheel as it becomes obvious we’re heading toward Chi Sigma Delta. No other buildings are out this way. Only a bunch of woods and places for track, field, and other outdoor sports.
He could be wanting to play a round of tennis, but that seems unlikely. Fuck. Soon it will be obvious I’m following him. If I don’t turn off now, I’ll have to explain what I’m doing, and I don’t want to go another round with him.
Jerking my wheels to the right, I go off onto some dinky side road leading up to a lab of some sort. I’m still close enough that I can watch what he’s doing, but he probably won’t think twice about some science nerd stalking him. Unfortunately, he doesn’t turn up to the sorority house.
Where the hell is he going?
As I’m about to start my car back up to follow him, the ones behind me pull into the sorority parking lot. From the looks of it, they’re older men. I can’t make out their faces due to the sun setting and the tinting of the windows, but something isn’t right. It’s not possible that Loftry is the front for some underground sex ring, is it?
Now, more than ever, I wish Marnie was here to investigate this with me. No one else seems to understand my insatiable curiosity or my drive for the truth. In these few moments while I sit alone in my car, the weight of loneliness descends upon me like a shroud.
No one seems to understand me.
Doctor Andrew might, but his brusque nature and insensitive way of handling me leaves much to be desired. But then, is it really all that fair when all I seem to want is for Dean Anderson to be the one who understands me? Even with all my research, many things just don’t make sense.
Deep down in my gut, I know he can help me understand. He can help me figure out these feelings fluttering through me like nauseating butterflies threatening to make me just fall to my knees at his feet. He would be such an excellent teacher to this novice apprentice.
I just know it.
Unfortunately, now is not the time to wax poetic in my brain. Not when I feel like the biggest mystery of them all lies at my feet, ready to be discovered. No doubt, whatever I find will be more than enough for Dean Anderson to break this self-imposed vow of silence and take me into his office once more.
What will he use on me? The paddle again? The cane? Or would he use some of those other tools I saw online?
A nervous giggle bubbles in my gut and vibrates through my chest as I drive over to the Chi Sigma Delta house. With Doctor Andrew going somewhere else, I’m pretty sure I won’t get discovered. If I do, I can just play the role of a dumb blonde and say I got lost.
Easy peasy.
Easing into an empty spot, my pulse races as I watch the people coming in and out. So many men—several of them teachers. What the hell are teachers going into a sorority house for?
I pull out my phone and scroll through the community list, looking for anything that might explain this. Perhaps there’s an open house? It’s definitely not a rush. Besides, teachers don’t go to those, anyway.
For a moment, my heart stutters as I do my best to peer through the doors. The other explanation could be an emergency. But then there are no medical vehicles, and the men seem dressed in designer suits.
Besides, they’re not moving nearly quick enough to denote any real emergency. Soon, girls file out after them, laughing and carrying on as if they’re all going out on a date or something.
It’s forbidden to date or engage with a student in an inappropriate way. Did I somehow misread the answers to my questions? But that’s absurd.
If it’s so forbidden, then why does everything look so intimate, so familiar, so heart-wrenchingly cozy? A dull ache spreads through my brain and drizzles into my heart as I continue to watch everything, unable to look away.
Forbidden... right. There’s too much flirting going on here. There’s far too much touching, too much joking for it to be anything innocent. And unless I’ve just completely lost my mind, I know for a fact that several of those men were at the benefit.
Who’s benefiting whom indeed?
Someone else needs to know about this. I can’t be the only one sitting on such a major scoop. Huddling down as best as I can so I can’t be seen, I snap a few pictures with my phone. Something is definitely not right here, and there is only one person I can talk to, someone perfect to puzzle this out with.
The scene looks so eerily similar to what Marnie and I saw a few months or so ago when she and I first met up. Only then, the girls were flitting in and out wearing robes while the men were wearing masks. At some undefinable point, the robes just vanished.
Could it be that they knew they were being watched? Honestly, the late-night strolls in the robes is what instantly perked my interest. At first, I thought maybe it was a wannabe coven. Like the house president saw The Craft or Practical Magic one too many times and decided to make it a thing.
It might also explain why they never had a Rush or seemed to invite new girls to join their ranks. Only, what I once envisioned as late-night Ouija board sessions or games of light as a feather stiff as a board now feel childish compared to what I’m seeing. The men accompanying them don’t look like the types to cast spells.
They look like they were made for sex. Pure and simple.
Ashleigh
You won’t believe this. Teachers and other guys are all up in the Chi Sigma Delta house. You were right. There’s def something fishy going on there.
As I upload one of the pictures and send it on along with the text, I do a happy squirm in my seat. Finally, a real story I can sink my teeth into.
Marnie
The number you have reached has been disconnected. If you feel this was in error, please check the number and try again.
What?
How?
Why?
I tap Marnie’s name and check the number. As far as I can tell, it’s the same.
Hey. Trying this again. Hope everything is okay.
The number you have reached has been disconnected. If you feel this was in error, please check the number and try again.
Fuck.
A sharp rap pierces the silence of my car, setting my pulse to a racing staccato. Two men loom over, peering inside. What the fuck do they want?
“Can I help you?”
The one on the left frowns as he leans inside. “And how do we end that sentence?”
“I- I’m sorry. I don’t-“
“Let me help you out,” the other sneers, cracking his knuckles. “Sir or Master will suffice. I take it you’re new? Or are you a break me who just likes to be punished?”
A break me? That’s not something I researched. I need to add it to my mental list.
“She can’t be new,” the one practically inside my car barks out. “I would have remembered initiating a beauty like this.”
My brain whirls into overdrive as the implications slam into me, one after the other. Initiation. It’s got to be a secret society. Once again, Marnie was right. I just didn’t want to believe it. Oh, my god. And on campus, no less. This is definitely going to get me my big break. I just have to not blow it.
“It was a private initiation,” I murmur, hoping there is in fact such a thing.
“Private,” he smirks, looking over his shoulder at the other one. “We don’t do private... “The dean,” they say in unison. “Sorry. I wasn’t aware you were under his protection.”
Somehow, this grown man looks almost scared. I knew Dean Anderson was a formidable man, but to elicit this sort of reaction... Unless it’s a different dean. It has to be. No way Dean Anderson could be a part of something like this.
Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I give them both a wide smile. “Yes, the dean. Forgive me, Sirs. He’s still training me.”
“Lucky bastard,” the one furthest away grumbles. “Just like him to snag someone like her.”
As if ignoring him, the one with his head inside the car glances over to the house before looking back at me. “Are you trying to be late to the initiation? Pretty sure the dean will punish you for that.”
“I’m waiting for Stacy,” I murmur, the lie laying heavy on my tongue. “We said we’d go together.”
“He pulls out from my window and smacks the top of my car. “I’ll find Stacy and make sure she gets there. You go on ahead so you don’t make him upset.”
“Thank you, Sir. That is very kind of you.”
“Good girl. You’re learning.”
As they both head back toward the house, I grip the steering wheel and do my best not to scream. Right now, I’m not sure whether it’s out of fear, excitement, or relief. All I know is that those damned butterflies are zipping out my stomach and they have to come out somehow. It’s either that or puke.
I watch the cars as they pull away. One by one, they go in the same direction the psychiatrist went. Curiouser and curiouser, I repeat in my head as I follow them, hoping they’re going toward the initiation and not some home game I don’t know about.
But as they pass the turnoff for the fields, I know we’re going somewhere else. Somewhere I’ve never been before. Granted, it’s not as if I’ve explored every inch of Loftry, but how in the hell did I miss this?
Sweat slickens my palms as we go a bit further until the narrow road expands into a large open field with what looks like a small castle rising out of a hedge maze. What in the medieval hell is this?
Ducking out from my car, I keep my head down as I follow the others inside. The men no longer have their faces showing. Instead, masks cover them, concealing their identity.
Well shit. How am I going to be able to break this story now? How will I know the key players? The movers and shakers?
Unfortunately, I don’t have much time to think about that. I need to find a way to hide out before I’m discovered. One by one, the girls slip into a side room with a few heading back out in a robe and mask. Thank god. This will be easier than I imagined.
Hurrying into the space, my stomach drops as I watch them strip down to just their bra and underwear and put their clothes into a small cubby. Seems as if this robe will be the only thing keeping me covered. Though I’m not a stranger to changing in front of other women, it’s something entirely different to stay so unclothed where others will see me.
Thank god I wore a nice underwear set. How absolutely embarrassing would it be to have to walk about in raggedy granny panties? Robe or not, I wouldn’t want anyone to see me so disheveled.
The others flit about in their robes with not a hint of unease in their eyes. How long have they been doing this? Some are girls I recognize from class, but many are strangers to me. What’s shocking are the ones who look old enough to have already graduated.
What the fuck is going on?