26. Hadrian
HADRIAN
My violin case sits tight in my grip as I head toward my new room, prison, whatever you would like to call it.
My parents call it my future, but to me, it’s the death of freedom and opportunity in the shape of an austere castle.
My suitcases and furniture were sent ahead of me, but I rejected my mother’s offer to have them unpack and decorate as well.
Some of this should be left up to me, shouldn’t it?
According to my driver’s license, I am a man. She doesn’t really agree.
Bellthorn is exactly how I remember from the few times my father brought me here as a child, hoping to indoctrinate me early.
The architecture merges fully into the mountain in parts, and extends far beyond it in others.
It could withstand most attacks or catastrophes of the outside world, at least for a time.
But I know better than to feel safe here.
Bellthorn is a prison for secrets, dark and twisted lessons that sit somewhere between religion and cult.
My disdain for this place was born out of my father’s passion and enthusiasm.
The tours and merchandise that decorated my walls chipped away at my patience.
The hatred, however, was a delicate plant, cultivated by every underhanded reminder that I belonged here.
After years of taking classes in the most prestigious musical programs in the country, performing around the world, living my dream, Dad decided he’d had enough of my happiness.
He owes this place his very blood, and that’s me.
I never imagined myself to be a sacrificial lamb, but it’s clear that’s all I am as I leave everything I’ve worked and dreamed for behind.
My parents have spent years attempting to ruin my music career and get me where they want me, and since subterfuge failed, they simply threatened to disinherit me.
Frankly, I need the money. I’m twenty-three years old, and stuck in the one place I don’t want to be, for money.
I’m far more of a whore than the Offering.
As I walk toward the wing we all share, I’m struck by a commotion.
People line the doors to the gymnasium, where large windows reveal something happening inside.
A beautiful silver-blond girl stands surrounded by the cheerleading squad.
They wear morbid black ensembles, of course, to fit in with the Bellthorn mystique.
The woman wears a beautiful white gown that makes her look somewhat like a Gothic fairy.
The high slit reveals her creamy legs, and my eyes can’t help but trace them.
“What’s going on here?” I ask one of the guys staring through the window.
“Cheerleading practice,” he says, like I’m an idiot for asking.
“So you all line up for cheerleading practice like this regularly?”
“Sable Briarwick is in there, and it seems like shit is about to go down.”
I know the name. The Briarwicks were an incredibly prestigious family before her father recently defamed them.
“What is she doing at Bellthorn?” I can’t imagine they would even accept her now with the media shitstorm that has been her parents' death and the inquiry into her father’s crimes.
“She’s the new Offering.” He slides me a glance like I’m crazy. “What are you, living under a rock, man?”
“Sort of,” I say. “Just got here.”
“Do you know what the Offering is?” He shoots me a conspiratorial smile, but of course, I know what the Offering is. She’s mine too.
“Everyone knows what the Offering is.”
There are lots of beautiful women in the world , I tell myself as the cheerleaders converge around Sable.
Hot sparks shoot through the air, and I’m seriously worried for her when one of them grabs her phone, but Sable doesn’t let go.
The girls circle her, closing in, and I push through the crowd to open the door and get inside the gym to intervene.
None of them even looks at me as the door quietly swings shut behind me.
Does she know who I am? Does she know she belongs to me, too?
I think crazy things to myself as I move toward her.
If I were a registered student more than a few hours ago, she might, but the likelihood she does now is low.
She probably knows my family if I were to name drop.
We ran in the same circles before she came here to get fucked in a circle.
The brunette, who I might have gone to middle school with, raises her free hand to slap Sable.
“I wouldn’t touch something that doesn’t belong to you,” I say, catching her off guard.
“ Something is right,” the bitch spits, her nasty voice twisting around something, but then she looks at me.
Her eyes flash in shock. “Hadrian!” She must be the girl I thought she was, but I certainly don’t know her well enough to remember her name.
“And you are?” I ask.
She turns to me with a flirty little wink. “You really don’t remember me?” she presses, and I just stare. “Arabella Aragona.”
“So why are you bothering my Offering?”
“Oh, Hadrian, we were just having some fun and getting to know each other.” She tries to put a hand on me, and I step back.
“Is that so?” I ask, eyes shifting to Sable. “Sable?”
“She was about to slap me because some guys I don’t even know want to fuck me. She’s jealous, and I don’t even want to be in the same zip code as them.”
The other girl shrieks in rage, and I can’t help but laugh.
Before anyone else can speak, Parker comes out of the coach's office. Before I can say anything to him or he can see me with the Offering, he punches the wall, the bang echoing throughout the gym. Shit, I think to myself. He’s a lot bigger than when I left as a preteen, and frankly, I don’t want to fight him.
I’m large enough that I think that about very few men.
He searches for Sable, anger worsening when he finds her. “What the fuck is going on here?” His face reddens even further as he looks at the cheerleaders who are all scurrying away at this point.
“They were going to jump me because they think they own your dick, and this guy helped me.”
Parker looks over to find which guy she’s talking about, and his expression morphs from rage to blind rage.
He comes at me immediately, hand raised into a fist, and I’m almost flattered he has such a strong response to my presence.
I clearly didn’t think about him as much as he thought about me while I was away. His fist raises as he charges me.
“Parker! What are you doing?!” she shouts, jumping on his back. I have to give her credit; that was brave, if not incredibly stupid. She shouldn’t trust a brute not to hurt her when he’s already throwing a tantrum.
“This fucking asshole…” He doesn’t even finish the sentence, but to his credit, he also doesn’t toss Sable off his back.
“What’s going on?” she demands.
“It’s a long story; all that matters is I fucking hate this guy.”
“What the fuck?” I shout. “What reason do you have to hate me, Parker?”
“You should have seen Soren after you left.”
I’m surprised that what he said actually affects me.
I was almost certain that I didn’t care about anything Parker had to say.
We were never close friends, never liked one another, and never had any shared interests.
We were simply forced to interact as children because that’s what was expected of us, just like we’re forced to share an Offering now.
If I had any self-respect at all, I would ignore temptation, but I can’t deny just how fucking hot she is, and how entertaining it would be to play with and ruin their toy.
“Soren was a big boy.”
“You never called him. Never said a fucking word. Your music was more important than a kid you claimed was your best friend, who you loved like a brother.” Parker takes an angry step forward, but Sable hangs on, and rather than drag her another foot forward, he pauses.
“If you cared so much about him, why couldn’t you at least answer when he called you?
You didn’t even respond to his text when he told you he wanted to kill himself. ”
Sable’s jaw drops as she looks at me, and I see a sliver of hate already starting to form, but I won’t tolerate that.
“That is not true. I have never gotten a text or call from Soren since I left. I admit I didn’t call him either, but I swear on my life, he never texted me.”
Parker turns red like he doesn’t believe a word I say, and the only thing standing between him kicking the shit out of me is Sable. She looks at me over his shoulder, and her blue eyes are like razors cutting me. “Are you sure he didn’t text you?”
“I’m sure!” I nearly shout.
“You’re not going to fucking believe him?” Parker angrily demands of Sable.
“Calm down,” she insists, and I watch in shock as he takes a breath.
“It was nice to meet you, Sable. Parker, we can talk about this another time.” Let him be pissed off. I’ll fight him later, when I’m not holding my violin and need to piss. I turn and leave the gym, but as I do, I catch someone with a camera, recording the entire interaction.
Deciding I don’t like an audience when it comes to her, I walk over to him, snatch it out of his hands, and smash it on the ground in front of him.
He starts to argue, but rather than giving him the chance, I punch him squarely in the face, enjoying the noise of pain as he crumples over. Man, I wish I did that to Parker.
I walk away from the gym wishing I had never fucking come here. How could Parker say all of that shit? Is he just trying to turn Sable against me, or does he believe it’s true, and if he does? Why the hell would Soren lie about me like that?