IV
Tori
“T hen, if you’ve decided you’re staying, I’ll take you to your room.”
Syn pushes his chair out and stands. As usual, he’s dressed impeccably. Even though it’s a Sunday evening, he’s still wearing semi-formal clothing: dark pants and a dark green shirt with the first few buttons opened, revealing some of his upper chest.
His clothing fits him so perfectly that I have no doubt it’s all tailor-made to fit his long, lean body. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him in something casual, but at this point, it would probably look strange on him anyway.
I just can’t decide if he looks more like a little boy playing dress-up or a pompous ass. Particularly next to Royal, in his tight jeans, or Gemini in his black hoodie and ripped jeans.
Although Royal and Gemini remain seated, I follow Syn’s lead, picking up my bag and coat as I stand.
The act of Syn showing me to my room seems to have some significance that I’m not even sure I want to go into, especially since Royal and Gemini don’t come with us when I follow Syn out the door. With large strides, not caring how or if I’m keeping up, Syn leads me a little further down the hall to another stairway.
This one goes down.
The interior designer who worked on this place went wild with the monochrome theme, even in the basement. Underground, there’s a whole other level that’s been decorated so consistently with upstairs, that it’s only missing windows alluding to this even being the basement level.
The first door we pass is made entirely of glass, and behind it, there’s a gym. James Keyingham University has a basketball team, and to the south of the campus, by the main gates, is the stadium. There’s also a sports center with a fully equipped gym, but clearly, at least one of these three doesn’t want to work out with other people.
The next two doors are wooden and closed. At the end of the hall, is an archway.
Only, when Syn steps through and moves to the side, I realize it’s a room with no door.
The room is small—about the same size as the one in my mom’s apartment back in New Jersey—but the problem isn’t the lack of space.
It’s the lack of anything .
The floor, like in the hall, is white marble. The walls are the same slate gray. While there is, miraculously, a window, it’s a slit at the top of the wall. Big enough for some natural light to get in, but if it did open, it’s not big enough for me to climb through.
Although given the lack of a door, no one seems worried about me trying to escape.
Underneath the window, pushed against the wall, is a metal table and matching chair—both a stark contrast to the one I’d been sitting in upstairs.
Even though I know what his response is going to be, I turn back to Syn. “I know you think my brother and I somehow manage to share the same body, but even prison cells have a bed.”
“But you do.” With a grin, which is positively evil, Syn steps to the side.
Behind him, on the floor, is a bed.
A dog bed.
Admittedly, it’s probably big enough for a Great Dane to sleep in, but it’s still a dog bed, nonetheless. And while the base is somewhat padded, there are no blankets.
“In this house, pets are not allowed on furniture, unless permitted by their owners. If you don’t like it, you can leave.” He cocks his head, looking me up and down. “Though your chance to do so without breaking the terms of your contract have long since passed…”
“You’re an asshole,” I hiss at him.
He raises a hand and waves his index finger from side to side. “Sir. You are an asshole, sir .” When I just glare at him, he smiles. “Your clothes will be provided to you every evening for the following day.”
Then he turns and leaves.
I stand there, staring at the empty doorway, long after his footsteps have faded.
My body is as still as a statue, but inside my head, my thoughts are whirring around so fast that I feel like each one is a mosquito swarming around me. The thoughts I take care of first, plucking out of the swarm and squashing them before they can latch into me, are the ones yelling to get out.
Despite my attempts to convince him otherwise, Syn hates me.
In his mind, I’m sure he sees me as Cole’s proxy, which means everything he wants to do to my brother, he’s going to take out on me.
The sound of my phone vibrating in my pocket brings me back to reality, and I hoist my bag further up my shoulder so I’m able to reach into the pocket of the coat draped over my arm.
It’s a message from Penny.
Before replying, I move over to the table so I can set my bag down on top of it, and hand my coat over the back of the chair. Then I open her message.
Penny : You OK? Who’d you get roomed with?
I glance around the room—not because I think someone is watching, but to make sure I’ve not been hallucinating my current situation—and then I stare at the keyboard on my phone. I’m not sure what my answer is to that. I’m not not OK . But I’m also hardly in 5-Star accommodations.
If I told Penny what was going on, I’m sure she’d be breaking down the door, because if this was her, and if I found out she’d been given a dog bed to sleep in, I’d do the same thing.
But I don’t want to lie.
Ever since Cole was arrested, it’s felt like everything is a lie. Lies piled upon lies. Some are small, and some are so big, I feel like I’m being crushed by them.
I don’t want to add more of that to my life.
Tori : I’m not in dorms. I’m staying in Denali House.
Penny : Denali House? Syn’s house???
Tori : Yeah… But, if there was ever going to be any evidence of anything, it’s going to be here. Yay me?
Her first response was instant, but nothing comes for the second. I’m not complaining, because at least there’s no questions that I can’t answer. But I’m also certain she’s crafting some kind of response.
I slip the phone into the back pocket of my jeans, and then I turn around. From this angle, the room looks no better, but fight mode is kicking in.
Even before I went to Syn to ask him to let me initiate into the Elite, I knew without a shadow of a doubt, that if he agreed, this wasn’t going to be easy. But from the moment he announced to the college who I was, my life had hardly been a picnic. Hell, it had sucked since Cole was arrested.
The contract, the NDA, everything Syn had said and done up until now—everything has been cleverly worded to suggest that, ultimately, he wasn’t going to be satisfied until things were even.
Do I think he’s capable of killing me?
Yes—from the moment he wrapped his hands around my neck in the library.
However, I also feel like he wouldn’t go that far, if only because he’s supposedly on that presidential track, and while the general public has seen a lot of corruption from certain presidents over the years, actual murder is probably crossing the line…
Unless it comes out after.
But running for president isn’t going to be easy from a prison cell.
Do I think he’s more likely to torment me to the point I’d do it myself?
I look around the room and sigh.
Probably .
Only, what Syn doesn’t realize is that just because I’m not lashing out every time something fucked up happens to me, it doesn’t mean I’m weak and close to breaking.
I realize now something has changed.
Right up until I walked into this room, my goal was to find whatever evidence I could to prove Cole was innocent and force Syn to apologize and ask for my forgiveness.
Now?
Now, I want more.
As much as my present living conditions suck, I’m inside this house. And I know this house has more than one secret hidden within its walls. The things I’ve seen Syn do are just the tip of the iceberg.
I let my resolve cool my burning irritation, then I leave the room Syn’s given me so I can explore.