Chapter 45
forty-five
“There. No smell.”
Even after a full day of the cleaning crew working, the scent of death won’t leave my nose. Ashlyn’s peppermint balm burns on my upper lip—her attempt to cover it, useless. But I don’t dare tell my future wife that the stench of the girl I used to fuck is still lodged in my head, like a bad dream.
“The oil diffuser helps,” she says, filling a second one. I glance at the lit candles lined up on the dresser. She sniffs. “Lemon and...must.”
“More like astringent,” I say, trying to be helpful. Rubbing her shoulders, I press my chin to the top of her head. “As I said, we can stay in the other wing.”
“No. I feel at home in the guest suite. Plus, we can grab our clothes from your closet without having to move them.”
“Whatever you want, dear.”
She flips around and faces me with a mock-stunned expression. “Who are you and what have you done with my tyrant of a Viscount?”
I grip her throat and shove her against the nearest wall.
Hard enough to make a choked gasp explode from her lungs.
Diving into her neck, I crawl my nose up to her ear and growl, deep and low.
“He never fucking left. So don’t make me angry, baby girl.
It’s been a while since I slapped you. Is that what you’re asking for? ”
“Gods, please,” she whimpers, trembling. Her eyes blaze. Body writhing against mine in all the right spots.
She’s a siren, and I’m the sailor who never learns. Calling every bit of control I have into question.
And I love that.
I crush my mouth to hers, bite her bottom lip until she gasps, her tongue slick over mine, sweet and defiant.
“You want me to tie you up again? Whip your ass so hard you can’t sit for a week?”
“Yes!”
Her fingers hook into the loops of my jeans, pulling me closer. Kissing me deeper.
Between breaths, I huff out, “Shove my cock so far down your throat you bruise? Leave bite marks on your shoulders for everyone to see?”
As her throat vibrates with a moan of affirmation, I delve into the soft skin above her collarbone and sink my teeth in. My ears heat with the sound of her scream.
She pulls me up by my hair and shoves her lips against mine, hitching a leg up over my hip. I nearly give in when her pussy rubs against my hardening cock.
With a pop, I pull away. Slap a hand on the wall above her. Chest rapidly rising, I manage to whisper, “We have to get to class.”
She narrows her eyes. “Now I’m the one going to slap you.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Noooooo…”
With a heavy sigh, she shoves off the wainscoting and reaches for her coat. I help her with it, grab our bags, then her hand, and guide her to the hall.
“Fresh start to the semester, Ashlyn! I’ll take you right to the admin building to change your major. Then to your advisor’s office to switch your schedule. More math for you.”
Her steps slow as she kicks her feet like a toddler. “I don’t want to…”
“You said you did!”
“I suppose.” A little gleam hits her eyes as she hurries, catching my stride. “More library time?”
“Definitely.”
Before we reach the garage, I make sure she has her healthy breakfast. And let her know the new rules. “And no attending Thriller Thursday next week.”
“What? But Omega…”
“I don’t give a fuck. You think I’m risking Talon showing up and tagging you? No.” I’m already pulling out my phone to text my sister. Telling her not to expect my appointed to participate.
“Fine,” she says with a roll of her eyes.
I hold back a smug smile of victory. There would be no way I’d let her attend Thriller Thursday. Talon or not.
Though I have a feeling he’s too scared to show up on campus.
If I were him? I definitely would be.
I can’t take a moment to find him without leaving Ashlyn’s side. That’s the only problem. Fortunately, I have a few initiates spreading the word. No one’s seen him…
Not yet.
Friday night, we roll up to a fraternity party like a typical college couple. Students spill out of the front door, even though it’s cold as a corpse outside. The frigid January has me pulling the collar of my puffy coat up higher, shoving my gloved hand deeper into my pocket.
It’s been years since I was in the Beta Kappa Eta house. Or, as we Thetas like to call them, Beta Kap, no fap.
My cousin, Logan, is their secretary. And Ashlyn wants to ask Rowan about the vial found near Julien.
Her face buries into her phone, reading a text from Scout as I lead her inside with my hands on her shoulders. Angling her so she doesn’t trip over anyone’s feet. The bass of the speakers thuds from two crowded rooms. Cheap beer, cheaper cologne, and body odor permeate the air.
A fast-food wrapper entangles my boot, and I kick at an empty water bottle. Betas. Too busy studying to clean up their house, I guess.
“Barbiturates! Mixed with everything else that was injected. Heavy doses, she said. A pathology resident sneaked and got the records. Ran all the tests on Julien again.” Ashlyn halts, and I almost trip over her short figure.
In a low, harsh voice, she says, “Part of his lung was missing. Like a biopsy!”
“Is that what killed him?” I ask, half scanning the great room of their estate house for Logan. Not sure why she’s whispering. It’s so crowded, I can hardly hear, unless I bend down.
“No. It was the combination of the drugs and something called CNS depression. I don’t understand most of the things Scout says. But it sounds like he couldn’t breathe.”
“Why would someone want a biopsy of his lung— Wait…”
Lungs. There were a lot of girls carved up on Terror Tuesday, too. Bodies all a mess. That was nasty. Was anything missing from Elowyn? Hmm, I didn’t stay around to check.
But on Massacre Monday… Yeah, for sure, there was a brain extracted.
Brain. Lungs.
It all seems…familiar.
“Hey, Aiden.” Logan pulls me in for a side hug.
“Logan, this is my everything, Ashlyn soon-to-be-Cardell.”
Logan smirks. Like he’s won some bet. “Hello, Ashlyn. We met already.”
“Yeah, we did,” she says. “I was hoping to talk to Rowan again.”
Logan nods toward the staircase. “Unfortunately, he’s back this semester. But he doesn’t look good. I was hoping the break from classes would help, but it didn’t. He’s up in his room, if you want—”
Ashlyn squeezes my hand. “I’ll be right back.”
My jaw tightens, but before I can stop her, she’s gone. Logan slaps my shoulder.
“The thing about you Cardells? You pretend not to care so well…”
I watch her plump ass bounce in her tight jeans as she ascends each step. “What do you mean?”
“Then you find your person, and it’s all over. Tied. Leashed. Saddled.”
“Fuck you. Just because you’re too shy to talk to anyone… She’ll find you, and then you’ll be cooked like Ryan and me.”
“Never,” he says with finality. Logan hasn’t been interested in anyone. Not even looked at someone. “I’ve got too much future to focus on.”
“Last semester. Think you’ll escape without an appointed?” I ask, already knowing the POT is still lingering in the background. Who will take it over? I have no idea. But it seems as if the new president isn’t stopping her plans for it and the other committees.
“Unlikely.” He grimaces. His dirty-blond hair waves as he shakes his head, then pushes his glasses up his nose. “Whatever. My dads want grandkids. And I do, too. But I thought I could be a cool uncle for a while, you know?”
Logan’s soft. He’s not like us. Uncles Mason and Briggs tried to shelter him from Ryan and me growing up. We’d scare the shit out of him, and he’d go crying to our dad or Briggs. Then we’d get into big trouble.
Now? I’d protect this man with my entire being. No one should mess with him ever. Forcing him to marry some appointed he doesn’t want? It sets my teeth on edge.
“Let me and Ryan know if you get an order for it.”
His green eyes dart over to me. “Why?” Dropping his voice, he turns so his shoulder bumps mine. “You’re not going to do anything. Let it go. If it happens, I’ll deal.”
Or maybe we’ll all have to deal…
“He’s started CPR. Call 911!” A commotion interrupts our conversation as stomping footsteps clomp down the stairs.
Immediately, I hurry around them, shoving and pushing, scanning for Ashlyn.
“Rowan Greaves! Is someone calling?” one of the Betas yells, and several of the nerds jump into action. Thank the gods, half are pre-med.
But I’m the first of the pack to the landing.
Down the hall, I spot a door open. Inside?
A man lying on his back, a couple of brothers over his chest, working to resuscitate him.
Next to a blue-faced Rowan Greaves, some pills are spilled out in an array of plastic capsules.
Carefully, I pluck one off the nasty carpet.
“What is this?”
One of the guys lifts an orange bottle from his desk and reads the label. “Thio…Thiozenal? For seizures.”
“Is that a…” I wasn’t listening when Ashlyn was talking. “A barbiturate?”
“Yes,” says the guy giving Rowan CPR.
“There was a girl up here. Where is she?” I demand, heart racing. Sweat pours off my forehead.
They all shrug. “No idea, man. Sorry.”
I hurry out of the room and scan the hall. “Ashlyn?”
Hand shaking, I grab my phone and pull up her tracker app, which shows her on the move… Outside. The blip is moving fast.
I take off in a sprint down the back stairs, aiming for the dot.
Someone bumps my hand as I pass, and my phone flies out, cracking on the steps. “Fuck!” I yell, grabbing it.
“Sorry, man.” But they’re already rushing to Rowan’s room.
My screen is busted. Shattered and black.
Stuffing the broken device into my pocket, I curse and rush outside to the back patio. Then cut through the woods toward Delta, where the dots were heading. But I don’t see anyone.
A car door slams to my left.
Old branches snap under a footstep to my right.
Rustling of clothing.
An engine starts and motors off.
Rusted smog to my left.
A flash of light to my right.
I aim that way and dart behind a tree, following a sprinting shadow. But when I round a wide oak trunk, I slam right into a hovering figure…
Talon Moretti.