21. Skating on Thin Ice
SKATING ON THIN ICE
Axel
I yanked open the door to Vaughn’s office and stormed inside the dim room with the stolen laptop under my arm. I wasn’t surprised to find a girl kneeling between his legs at his desk, sucking his dick.
“What the fuck, Vanderhart!” Vaughn tightened his grip on the girl’s hair so she couldn’t move away. “You can’t just barge in here.”
“Obviously, I can.” I dropped the computer I nearly got caught stealing last night on his desk, the open bottle of vodka wobbling dangerously close to the edge. “We need to talk.”
He flicked his hand to the girl still slobbering all over his cock. “I’m a little busy. Come back later.”
My fingers curled into tight fists, wanting nothing more than to crack my knuckles against his arrogant face.
He’d known exactly whose house he sent me to, and if I’d been caught, I could have ended up in a jail cell.
Lorelei could have gotten in serious trouble, too.
Of course, it was my stupid fault for allowing her to follow me.
Knots fisted in my gut at how she’d tried to help me last night. She’d had no idea why I—the charming, happy-go-lucky football god—had come close to a mental breakdown, but she didn’t leave my side or run away like I’d expected.
Would Cordi have stayed like Lorelei? She usually avoided overly emotional situations, afraid it would penetrate her tough walls or something.
Vaughn’s throaty moan jerked me back to the present as the girl continued to pleasure him. My mouth curved in disgust, and without thinking, I grabbed the bottle of vodka and chucked it against the charcoal wall.
As glass shattered, Vaughn released her platinum hair, and she scrambled back on her hands and knees.
“You need to leave, sweetheart.” I pointed to her black dress on the dark hardwoods a few feet away. “Things might get ugly.”
Her hazy blue eyes widened as she looked toward Vaughn, but he just sighed and zipped up his jeans.
“I’ll see you later, Cathrine.”
Her lips thinned, red lipstick smeared all around them. “It’s Cortney.”
She yanked her dress on, snatched her sparkly purse off the desk, and hurried past me, muttering a few choice names for Vaughn before slamming the onyx door shut.
The Domnus swiveled his plush black leather chair forward and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s the problem, Vanderhart?”
I pressed my palms into the cool mahogany of his desk and leaned forward. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He cocked one of his dark eyebrows, seemingly unbothered as he grabbed a cigar from the gilded box on the corner of the desk. “Care to elaborate?”
“Did you send me to the Dupont house last night just to fuck with me?” I rapped my knuckles on the computer as blood pounded in my ears. It took so much control not to punch that smirk off his face. “Did you have me steal this for nothing?”
Vaughn raked his hand through his tousled hair while he rolled the cigar between his fingers, humor glinting in his dark eyes. “I didn’t think it would be a problem, Axel. And you completed the job, right?”
Gasoline rushed through my veins, and his grin struck the match. I stormed to his side of the desk, gripped the arms of his chair, and leaned so close I could smell the vodka on his breath.
“Do you think this is a game, Radcliffe?”
He knew going into that house, facing what I did, would send me into a tailspin. But did he realize how unhinged it would make me?
“I think you’d better back the fuck off, Vanderhart.” He pressed his hand to my chest, but I was a beast compared to his scrawny ass. “I’m your Domnus. Show me the respect I deserve.”
A wild laugh burst out. “You don’t deserve shit except a beatdown.”
His expression hardened, and he put more force into shoving me away, so I stepped back before he broke his little wrist.
“Don’t forget I know all your secrets, Axel. Just a few phone calls, a few slips of the tongue, and you could find yourself in prison.” Vaughn stood, staring me down as if he could physically hurt me. “I own your ass for the next year, but I can make the rest of your life hell if I want to.”
“You don’t have the balls. Bass might have been a threat, but you aren’t him, no matter how much you pretend, and you certainly aren’t a Davenport. His last name carries a hell of a lot more weight in this brotherhood than yours.” I jerked my chin toward the computer. “I did your job. We’re even.”
“Not quite.” His teeth flashed as he gave a malicious smile. “You’re skating on thin ice, and it’s melting a little more with every inch of disobedience you display.”
I spun, marched toward the door, and flipped him off. “How’s this for disobedience?”
“I hope Lorelei’s worth it,” he called as I grabbed the knob. “She must have a magical pussy if you’re willing to risk so much to keep her.”
My lips pulled into a snarl, but I kept the insults from falling off my tongue as I stepped into the hallway and slammed the door behind me.
The question wasn’t if Lorelei was worth it. Was Cordelia worth it?
Even though she’d erupted in a jealous fit at seeing Lorelei and me together—and that totally gave me a buzz—I couldn’t shake the images of Cordi stepping out of the house with all those guys surrounding her. She’d obviously messed around with one or more of them.
She might have been jealous like Lorelei had predicted, but painful cracks had deepened across my heart last night, ones that refused to heal.
If Cordi really was the girl of my dreams, how could she hurt me so much?
And Lorelei was the one to soothe that pain…
As the storm of confusion raged through my mind, I hurried up the narrow stairs to the first floor of the Sigma Delta house. When I entered the foyer, all dark, burnished wood and marble, I nearly crashed into a pile of boxes.
“Oh, sorry, man. I’ll get those in a minute.” Micah jogged down the winding staircase, sweat beading his brow and dampening his blond hair. “I’m moving in.”
My head jerked back. “Does Killian know?”
“Of course. He’s the president, so he had to approve it.” He gave a wry laugh and pushed his glasses back up his nose. “I’m pretty sure he wants to keep an eye on me. You know, keep your enemies close and all that.”
That sounded like Killian’s paranoid ass.
“Let me help you.” I lifted a stack of boxes and tilted my head toward the stairs. “Lead the way.”
“Thanks.” Micah grabbed a load, and I followed him through the house to his new room on the second floor.
The space was smaller than mine, but the décor still screamed money. The antique wooden furniture—two desks, two dressers, two nightstands—probably cost more than your average car. Even the drapes and bedding were high-end. Every room in the Sigma Delta house oozed luxury.
“Was it Kill’s idea or yours to move in?” I asked.
“Mine.” He set his boxes by a built-in bookshelf taking up part of one wall and gave a lazy shrug, absentmindedly rubbing the dagger and serpent tattoo on his forearm. “Since I’m stuck in this fraternity, I should take advantage of some of the perks.”
My brow arched as I studied him. “Are you moving in to snoop for information about your missing friend?”
Micah’s laugh was the most unconvincing thing I’d ever heard. “Of course not.”
“Right.” I shook my head and sighed. “Look, I’m sorry about your friend, but you won’t find anything here unless someone wants you to.”
His muscles loosened as he dropped the facade. “You can’t help me? You’ve been here from day one, and most of your family has been involved in this organization. I just want to know what happened to her.”
Being a legacy and friends with all the right people did give me more perks, but I was already on Vaughn’s shit list. I couldn’t risk getting in trouble digging around in Serpents & Daggers’ secrets.
“How do you know we had anything to do with Susanna’s disappearance?” I asked. “She doesn’t have a connection to the frat or the brotherhood.”
Micah reached into the stainless-steel mini fridge and drew out two water bottles, passing me one. “Actually, she does have a connection.”
I took a deep sip of water and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Oh yeah?”
“Her ex-boyfriend pledged the Sigma Delts his freshman year.”
My gaze fell on a bag of miniature Snickers on his desk. “Why don’t you ask him for information?”
“I can’t.” Noticing where my attention had gone, Micah grabbed a bar and tossed it to me. “He’s dead.”
My head jerked in his direction as my mouth dried, fear sinking through my gut like a massive boulder. “Who is he?”
“Peter Dupont.” Micah’s hazel eyes drilled holes into my skull. “You were there the night he fell off that cliff, right?”
A cold sweat slicked my skin, and the Snickers dropped from my hand, hitting the floor with a thud. “Yeah, I was there.”
“Could her disappearance have anything to do with his death?”