Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Robbie
The last week before break goes achingly slow.
I’m pumped for the Sigma party, and our brothers responded to the idea of invites only better than I thought they would.
I guess there have been so many holiday parties going on already, and it’s easy to forget that not everyone has the stamina for going all out that I do.
I still haven’t found a date though, which is a massive hell no for the social chair, but it’s not like I’ve put in much effort.
I have a name on campus and could ask out any of the chicks I’m friends with, but I wasn’t lying when I told Brandon I want to find a guy to hook up with. A guy who isn’t him.
It’s not a fun thought, if I’m honest. I almost feel like because I started this with him that we should be continuing on as we are. It’s working, we have chemistry when we mouth fuck, so why wouldn’t we have chemistry with every other kind of fucking?
But while I was playing with him and Jenny last weekend, I really don’t want to come between anyone. There are more than enough people out there who I can fool around with, I don’t need to focus on someone who’s already attached.
If only goddamn Chad had let me touch his dick, I probably never would have gotten into this mess.
“You ready?” Chad asks.
I come out of whatever trance I was in and blink the others at our mastering mayhem meeting into focus.
Almost the whole room is watching me, and while I’d normally brush it off as Brandon putting me to sleep, that would be hypocritical considering the lecture I already gave these guys about paying attention.
I bounce to my feet. “Just giving our prank one more think over. It’s very important to make sure you consider every option.”
Even though I’m not looking at him, I catch Brandon watching me out of the corner of my eye.
Yeah, yeah, Robbie’s changing his tune. Truthfully, whenever Chad comes to me with a prank idea, my first response is “Yes” followed closely with “How?” Safety doesn’t make the list, and I know that’s dumb of us, but we’ve also been doing this for a long time, so most of that stuff is instinctual.
“I’ve checked it,” Brandon says. “You’re all good. I’ve also emailed it to everyone here, along with notes on the pranks you all submitted. Compare the two, and try again.”
There’s some whispered conversation that quickly shuts the fuck up when Chad picks up the GoPro and straps it to his head. I do the same, since we’re going to be leading the two different teams into the house.
To watch the action unfold, Zeke has the projector set up on the wall, streaming everything in real time. Chad turns to face me, and I give his camera the finger guns, watching the image show up overhead.
Rick sticks his head inside. “They’ve left for their meeting.”
And we’re on.
Once a week, Kappa house heads to campus for their fraternity meeting since their house isn’t big enough for all their members to be in the one room.
They used to only leave a pledge behind, but after getting sick of us hitting their house so frequently, a handful of guys—usually one from each year—stays at the house and watches the meeting on a video call.
But four guys are no match for the ten of us.
Kappas will never learn.
We do though, and we know that if the guys on campus see their house being hit, they’ll head straight back, which gives us roughly five or so minutes to do the most damage we can.
And because everyone here will be watching, I’m sure they’ll be keeping track of who to vote for in Master of Mayhem based on how this prank goes.
Champers has a backpack full of dishwashing detergent, I’ve got a trash bag full of shredded paper from the office I work part-time at, and Miles has a bag of sand.
They’re going to be pissed.
Because of the tight time frame, we’ve got two stages.
First, we grab the Kappas and zip-tie them to the nearest object; second, half of us cover the house in detergent while the other half stealth steal whatever they can get their hands on.
Once it’s off the Kappas’ land, they can’t do shit about it.
These mastering mayhem classes are too easy to build into King of Thieves.
“Ready?” Chad asks.
I fist-bump him, and then we’re off.
We leave the house as one group and make for the road that’s been cleared of ice and snow before breaking into a run.
It would have been easy enough to sneak through the backyards and take the Kappas by surprise, but first, I wasn’t interested in freezing my ass off, and second, they can see us coming all they like, it isn’t going to stop shit.
We fly across Greek Row and thunder up the stairs at Kappa, and Chad lets us in with the key he swiped from Bailey earlier. I have to admit that them getting together does have some advantages here.
The Kappas inside clearly aren’t expecting us because they glance up from where they’re huddled around the computer in surprise.
“Chad?”
“Bailey?” Chad immediately comes to a stop. “I thought you were going to the meeting?”
Bailey blinks big eyes at Chad, bottom lip drooped. “You wouldn’t get me into trouble, would you?”
“Ah …”
I slap Chad’s head. “Stop thinking with your dick.”
“Right. Yes. Sorry, sweetheart.”
The innocent look drops off Bailey’s face. “You have to catch me first.”
He takes off, and the other three Kappas scatter.
Fuck. This wasn’t part of the plan.
Chad and I tear after Bailey.
“You think you can outrun us?” I ask.
“I don’t have to,” he calls back. “I only have to keep you distracted long enough for everyone to get back here.”
He ducks into the hall, and Chad and I pause.
“I’ll go that way,” I mouth, pointing straight ahead. “You loop around.”
He nods and disappears back through to the living area while I creep along the way Bailey went.
“Oh, little Bailey …” I call.
There’s the sound of scuffling in the rest of the house that almost drowns out his reply.
“Fuck off, big Robbi—oomph!”
I round the corner to where Chad is trying to contain Bailey, but he’s putting up a fight. I quickly grab a chair and help wrestle Bailey into it before Chad zip-ties his wrists to the arm rests.
“Are you for real?” Bailey hisses.
“I don’t have a choice.”
“I’ll remember that, dick.”
Despite the venom in Bailey’s tone, Chad doesn’t seem worried. He drops a kiss on his boyfriend’s nose. “What if I let you tie me up later?”
Bailey stills. “Naked?”
“Duh.”
“Fine,” he grumbles. “But if you do anything to my room, there’s no sex for a month.”
“I really don’t need to hear this,” I say, checking to make sure Bailey is secure.
Chad smirks. “Sure, listening at my door to us having sex is one thing, but listening to us plan to have sex is where you draw the line.”
“You got it.” I tap the camera over my forehead. “And I think they’d agree with me. Now, let’s move. Your fucking boyfriend put us behind.”
“You’re welcome,” Bailey sings as we go check on the others.
The three remaining Kappas are all secure, and Miles has already rolled up the rugs in the main rooms and the hall. Time to get to it.
Champers pours detergent over the floors, while Rick follows with a broom to smear it into every crevice, then Miles and Larken cover it in sand for grip and shredded paper to make the cleanup even harder.
Classic prank. Low effort, minimal cost, big cleanup.
We leave them to it, very aware of the ticking clock over our heads, and stuff the bags we brought with as many items as possible.
This is what the Kappas had been trying to do a few weeks back when they hit our house, and if Brandon hadn’t ended up in hospital because of it, they would have managed a clean sweep with the game.
Being locked in that room for possibly hours would have given them all the time they needed to clear us out.
But unlike those dickheads, we know what we’re doing.
While some of the guys make work of things downstairs, Chad and I head for the second floor. We raid as many rooms as we can, taking shit like pens and desk clocks and family photos. I snort, picking one up.
Like, damn, I love my family, but I don’t have photos of them on my nightstand.
“Come on,” Chad says, appearing in the doorway. “I want to find Lucas’s room so I can rub my balls on his pillow.”
“Gross, man.” But fair considering what a fuckstain that guy is. “I’ll go second.”
But before we can make it to the stairs, there’s a shout from one of our brothers. “They’re back, run!”
Shit. I look at Chad, and he stares right back.
The front door slams open.
“It appears we’re fucked,” he whispers.
We can hear their heavy footsteps in the hall, and then … someone thunders up the stairs.
Not today, Kappas. I grab his shirt and haul him into a bedroom, heartbeat pounding in my ears.
“Robbie, brother, I love you, but I told you you’re not touching my dick.”
I hold back from flipping him off and head for the window. There’s an awning over the back deck that we can climb out onto, but the thing doesn’t look trustworthy. What’s a little life endangerment when we have a competition to win?
I take a deep breath and force confidence. “We’re going out here.”
Chad laughs. “So we can die?”
“So we can get this shit back to the house. I’ll go first, you throw that crap out, then you follow.”
“And if they catch me?”
“You’re on your own.” I shrug and say, “King of Thieves,” like that explains everything. Which it totally does.
“Fine.” He yanks up the window. “But hurry.”
I climb my fat ass out and pray the roof holds beneath my weight.
My adrenaline is pumping, nerves pulled tight as I wait for my footing to give out at any second.
A door slamming inside makes me jump, and I almost slip but catch myself in time.
It’s only a few feet and then a drop-off to the ground, but I hold my breath as I creep across and try not to slip on any ice.
It is so. Fucking. Cold.
Somehow, I manage it without dropping a Robbie-shaped hole through their back deck, and the second I hit the ground, I hold up my hands to catch the bags Chad tosses to me, wincing as they hit my frozen fingers.
If he doesn’t hurry up, I’m bailing and leaving him here. My Arizona ass isn’t built for this shit.
Luckily, he hits the ground, grabs one of the bags, and bolts for the side fence. I follow him over, creep around the front, and then we’re home clear. We reach the road and make the run back. I’m breathing hard, amped up on adrenaline, and pumped that the whole thing was caught on camera.
Shouts follow us, and I glance back to see Lucas try and tackle Miles, but Miles slips through his fingers. People from the other houses have stepped outside to see what’s going on as yet more Kappas tear into the street.
But there’s nothing they can do. Our items are off their property, therefore they’re property of Sigma house until Harmony Week—unless they steal them back.
Good luck with that.
And that, folks, is what you call a stealth steal for the books.
I have no idea how many guys got away, but when we enter the war room, the waiting Bigs and Littles cheer as we enter.
“That was awesome,” someone says.
Chad takes a bow, and I’m about to join him when Brandon punches me in the arm. Hard.
“What the fuck was that?” he asks.
I cringe and rub my shoulder. “Abuse?”
“Back at the house. Did you really jump off a roof?”
“Aww, Brando, you do care.”
He scowls and points at himself. “Risk manager. I’m the risk manager—of course I care. Do you have any idea how much paperwork that would have been if you fell and broke your neck?”
“What I’m hearing is …” I say as I loop an arm around his neck. “You were scared I’d come to bodily harm, and you were worried for me. So sweet.”
He bats me off him and stalks back over to where Zeke is sitting.
“Sure, he didn’t punch you,” I mutter to Chad as we join them.
Zeke holds up his phone. “Five missed calls from Charles. Well done.”
“Hear that?” Chad addresses the room. “Their prez is shitting hotcakes over this prank. Ten bucks says he tries to meet with Zeke to discuss”—he holds up his hands for air quotes—“parameters.”
I could lose my shit laughing. Charles is so uptight that he makes Brandon look relaxed.
It looks like out of all of us, only two guys aren’t back yet, so either they’re hiding out, or the Kappas got them. Such is the way of this life. Don’t bother trying to prank people if you’re going to be a baby about being caught.
As long as no one reports us to the dean, we’re all good on the row.
Zeke holds up his phone and calls Charles, the loud ringtone coming through on speaker. He answers a moment later.
“Again, Zeke?”
“What can I do for you on this fine winter’s day?” Zeke’s voice couldn’t be more bored. He likes Charles about as much as the rest of us, which is not at all.
“Look, we’re going to have to go over the parameters for—”
I can’t help the sounds that burst from me as Zeke ends the call. Could the guy be any more predictable?
And as the room devolves into conversation around what we did and place bets on how many points we’ll end up with, I catch Brandon watching me, so I blow a kiss his way.
He responds with an expected eye roll, but then something I’m not expecting happens. His cheeks flush a ridiculously bright red.
I didn’t even know Brandon could blush.
And he is.
Over me.
Oh, this has just gotten interesting.