Chapter 5
A SUMMONS FROM THE DEVIL
Killian
My molars ground as I stomped down one of the never-ending hallways in the Sigma Delta house, pewter sconces nailed to the walls spilling dim light across the dark wainscoting and hardwoods.
What the hell did Sebastian want now? He texted me to report to his office ASAP.
I’d barely finished my first day, and he was already on my ass about something.
It probably had to do with tonight’s party, one of his favorites.
I really wanted to tell Bass to go fuck himself and deal with whatever shenanigans he had planned on his own, but he was my stepbrother and president of our organization.
He was also a Davenport, and you didn’t say no to a Davenport. Ever. Even when you were technically family.
When I turned the corner, Gage Van Horn strolled from the opposite direction, sporting his usual bored expression.
The guy was well over six feet tall with a build almost as broad and thick as Axel’s, but he moved like a fucking ghost. He could blend in with the shadows, and you’d never know he was there unless he wanted you to.
“Where are you headed?” I asked as we turned down the hallway on my left.
Gage rolled his shoulders, the black t-shirt—he always wore black—straining against his shoulders and revealing a little more of his tattooed arms. Ink covered him nearly from head to toe. “Satan summoned me.”
“Don’t you think calling Sebastian ‘Satan’ is a little harsh?”
He scoffed. “Actually, I think it’s an insult to the man downstairs.”
I gave a dry chuckle. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m always right, Kill.”
What little words managed to grace Gage’s mouth weren’t wrapped in pleasantries or bullshit. He spoke the truth, as harsh as it might be sometimes. People found him abrasive, but I enjoyed his frankness. I envied it, actually. I didn’t have that luxury.
Sebastian didn’t answer his office door, of course, so instead of texting him like I’d planned, Gage twisted the iron knob and busted in.
I really wished he hadn’t.
Moans and grunts echoed throughout the large wood and leather room as my stepbrother railed some chick bent over his mahogany desk, his bare ass blinding me. The girl shrieked when she noticed us.
“Bass, stop! Someone’s in here.”
My stepbrother glanced over his shoulder without breaking his rhythm even as the girl struggled, his pale blonde locks unusually mussed and falling into his flushed face. “Don’t worry about them. They can watch.” A cruel edge sliced his laughter.
“What? No!” She tried to break away from Bass, but he shoved her chest back against the desk and continued to plow into her.
“I’m almost done, baby. You were loving my dick a minute ago, moaning like a porn star.” He reached between her legs to toy with her clit. “Pretend they aren’t here.”
This son of a bitch wanted us to catch him getting his dick wet, and it wasn’t the same girl he’d dropped on the couch this morning.
Gage sneered and turned away, the lights from the chandelier above glinting on the hoop piercing his bottom lip. “I really didn’t need to see his bare ass again.”
“I’ve seen enough of it to last a lifetime.”
The girl’s protests fell off as her heavy pants grew louder while the smacking of their bodies joined the chorus. If we tried to leave, Bass would only prolong our wait. The bastard got off on being watched. And watching.
Finally, after a few more uncomfortable minutes, Bass roared, emptied his cum—hopefully in a condom—and pulled out. Then he slapped her ass.
“Good little slut. You earned your prize.”
She fumbled with her dress to cover her tits and ass, not bothering with the discarded black thong on the floor. “Well?” Her green eyes burned into my stepbrother as a deep flush colored her cheeks.
Bass tore the condom off—at least he wore one—and dropped it into the trash before jerking his jeans up. He strolled to the other side of his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out two glossy VIP invites to the masquerade party.
“You won’t be disappointed, sweetheart.” When she tried to grab them from his hand, he snatched them away, his gaze darting toward us. “Maybe my little brother and his friend want to have a go first.”
Her jaw dropped, spreading her lipstick-smeared mouth. “You’re not serious.”
He was.
“We’re good.” I glared at Bass, wanting nothing more than to toss the crystal vase in the corner at him. Without looking away from him, I addressed the girl. “We have business to discuss, so you should go.”
Bass allowed the girl to grab the invites, and she hauled ass out of the room without meeting mine or Gage’s eyes. The door rattled shut as she slammed it behind her.
“Was that necessary, Bass? This couldn’t have waited until you were done with her?
” I almost felt bad for the girl. When she let Bass drag her up here for sex in exchange for VIP invites, I was sure she didn’t expect an audience.
My stepbrother was probably disappointed that we hadn’t arrived sooner.
“Necessary? No.” His lips pulled into a twisted grin. “But fun? Absolutely. You should have seen your face, Kill.”
Gage cracked his neck, the loud pops garnering my brother’s attention. “Why did you call us in here? I don’t have all day to stand around and joke about the girls you fuck and degrade.”
Sebastian retrieved his azure button-down shirt from the leather couch in front of the fireplace and threaded his arms through the sleeves. “One of these days, Van Horn, I’m going to do something so shocking I’ll finally get a reaction from your deadpan face.”
“It’s always good to set high standards, Davenport, but maybe don’t shoot for the moon when you’re not an astronaut.”
My stepbrother smirked. “Funny guy.”
“Humor is never my intent.” Gage dragged his tattooed hand through his dark purple fauxhawk.
He didn’t look like your average frat guy with his array of tattoos, colorful hair, piercings, and dark disposition, but given the secrets lurking beneath the surface of Sigma Delta, he fit right in.
“What do you want, Bass?” I rubbed my temples as a pounding grew in my head.
After buttoning his shirt, my stepbrother closed the distance between us and tried to grab my jaw.
I darted out of his reach with reflexes honed from avoiding fists bigger than mine as a kid. “Whoa, dude, that hand and those fingers have been in some dirty places recently.”
“You are such an OCD clean freak.” Sebastian rolled his eyes and sauntered toward the bathroom on the left, surprisingly not reaching for me again. “If Stan didn’t think you were so perfect, he’d send you to a shrink for that.”
I only pretended to be perfect, but as long as everyone—my stepfather, especially—believed it, my efforts weren’t wasted.
Bass returned from the bathroom with clean hands and poured himself a scotch from the bar on the left. “I have a little assignment for you two that pertains to tonight’s infamous soiree.” He withdrew two pieces of paper from a desk drawer and gave one to each of us.
Both were a list of female names.
“What’s this for?” I waved the paper.
Bass perched on the edge of his desk and motioned to me with his crystal tumbler full of scotch.
“I need you to make sure those lovely ladies have VIP invites to the party.” His wicked grin heightened the anxiety already flowing through my bloodstream.
He had something nefarious planned for tonight—par for the course with my stepbrother.
“And mine?” Gage had already shoved his list into his pocket without giving it much attention.
“I need you to tell those girls their access has been temporarily revoked.” His wince was nothing more than a thinly veiled attempt to mask his sinister grin.
“You get that list, Van Horn, because I can’t risk those savages clawing up my little brother’s pretty face when they receive the bad news.
As a Davenport, he can’t afford to mess up those good looks. ”
The Davenport name got me out of many things, even this, it would appear.
“Plus, you’d scare off the ones I want invited.
” Bass leaned back and grabbed a cigar from the box on his desk, rolling it between his fingers.
He looked like a younger version of my stepfather with refined features, sharp blue eyes, and glossy blonde locks the girls went crazy for.
Add the scotch and cigar, and Sebastian Davenport could have been Stanford’s twin.
Gage shrugged. “I couldn't care less about my face or those girls.”
My stepbrother lifted his glass. “I knew you were the perfect man for the job.” He turned to me. “And you, little brother, make sure you charm the panties off those ladies so they join the VIP party. You know that’s where the real fun is.”
Yeah, it was fun. I just hoped Bass controlled himself tonight. But the sadistic glint to his baby blues had a pit of dread coiling in my gut.
I pitied the girl my stepbrother set his sights on.