Текст книги "Vicious secrets"

Автор книги: Morgan Bridges

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 10DELILAH

“Here we fucking go.”

I take a deep breath and look around in awe at the stately brick buildings and manicured lawns sprawling before me. Everything screams money and privilege. I don’t belong here.

But… where Ben goes, I go.

I pull out my phone and check it for any unread messages, my heart sinking when I find nothing. I texted my foster brother the date and time I was arriving on campus. As a senior, I know he’s busy applying for jobs and whatnot, but I can’t ignore his dismissal of me.

Actually, this is more like the hundredth time. I knew things would change when he left for college, but I didn’t think we’d grow apart like we have. Or that he’d stop contacting me altogether.

Ben and I came from the same place and experienced the same shitty childhood. He knows how much it means to me that I obtained a scholarship to any university, let alone that it was the same place as him. All I’ve wanted since he walked out the door of that foster home is for us to be together again, like old times.

Okay, maybe not exactly like old times considering Frank “disappeared.” Murdered is more accurate, but I’ve had the hardest time wrapping my mind around that. And the dark stranger who broke into the house all those years ago.

Regardless of how much he freaked me out, that guy did me a favor. Not only did the girls and I not have to worry about being assaulted by Frank anymore, but we were moved into a nice foster home with Gloria. If I could choose a mother, she would be it.

I shoot her a text letting her know I’ve arrived on campus safely. She’s quick to respond that she’s glad and super proud of me. After that, she sends me a picture the littles drew to wish me luck. I smile, feeling loved despite Ben’s lack of communication. Once I find him, everything will be fine.

Lugging my overstuffed suitcase up the stairs of the residence hall, I remind myself that I’ve dreamed of this day. My scholarship is going to change my life for the better. And not just mine, but everyone I’ll end up helping with my education in the future.

The hallways echo with the chatter of students hanging out and loitering in the common areas. I make my way toward my assigned room and push open the door. A young woman with jet black hair snaps up her head to pin me with a stare. Her dark red lipstick accentuates her impish grin as she assesses me. I return the favor.

She’s dressed completely in black, her dress clinging to her curvy frame, paired with ripped fishnet stockings and boots. An assortment of silver chains, beads and pentagrams hang from her neck. Her forehead creases when she asks, “Excuse me, ma’am, but do you have a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior Edgar Allen Poe?”

I lift a brow. “Is this your way of telling me you enjoy poetry or that someone is buried under the floorboards? Either way, I’m down.”

She chuckles with a tiny shake of her head. “You’re unexpected, but that’s a good thing. It means we’ll get along great, and I won’t have to find a way to get rid of you.”

“Good to know.” I smirk. “So, what happened to your last roommate?”

Her grin widens. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I’m Bree, but everyone calls me Raven.”

“Delilah.”

“Welcome to the den of poetic chaos.”

I can’t help but laugh at her dramatic introduction. After closing the door behind me, I set my suitcase down next to the unoccupied bed and plop onto it. I scan the room, beginning with my side. The dorm room is large with plain white walls and one large window. The bed is queen size instead of the standard-issue twin, and the sheets look to be made of quality material. Certainly higher than my thread count back home.

There’s a wooden desk and dresser that match, their surfaces empty except for a pen and notepad with the university’s logo on the top right. Damn, even the parchment is thick and luxurious. A girl could get used to having nice things.

Raven’s half of the room is completely filled with color. Dark purple curtains trimmed with black lace outline the single window centered in the outside wall. Her bed is made up neatly with satin sheets and a matching black lace bedspread. Above the bed is a purple wall covered in posters depicting famous artistic interpretations of monsters and ghosts. Interspersed are prints of poems by Poe, Baudelaire, and Dickinson.

“What’s your major? Besides murder,” I say with a wink. “Obviously.”

Raven picks up a well-worn leather-bound journal and waves it in the air. “I’m an English major. It was either that, or I wasn’t going to college at all. My parents just about died when I chose something that wouldn’t ‘further the family business,’” she says, making air quotes, “but they finally got over it. You?”

“I thought about going into information technology like my brother, but that’s not for me. I settled on psychology. More specifically, I want to be a child psychiatrist. Plus, I’ll need a good-paying job after I graduate.”

Raven slaps a hand over her heart. “Ah, the woes of picking a practical major to please the parental units. I get it.”

“It’s not to please my foster mother, it’s to make sure I can provide for myself. I never want to depend on someone else for my survival.”

“I get that too. My family’s business means money isn’t an issue for me. No offense.”

She looks at me with a guilty expression and I gesture for her to continue. “No worries,” I say.

“But the trade-off is having to live under my parent’s control and expectations. Not that I’m comparing situations. I’m just saying I get it.” She sighs, idly flipping through her journal. “I don’t know what it’s like not to have parents breathing down my neck about lineages and legacies, while threatening to cut me off financially if I refuse to marry some man-child in a suit. Money doesn’t always equal freedom.”

This university is one of the finest in the country. I knew I’d rub elbows with the rich, and I’m prepared to have their money—and my lack of—thrown in my face. At least this conversation shows me that Raven won’t do that.

“I grew up not having enough money to buy food.” I shrug. “The grass isn’t always greener. It’s just grass.”

“Well, sometimes I want to piss on it. Water it a little, you know?” Her smile returns, as does the glint of mischief in her brown eyes. “Maybe people would be less likely to rain on my parade if I piss on theirs first?”

I burst out laughing. I understand her frustration with being in a situation you have no control over. More than she could ever know.

“Absolutely. But before you decide to urinate everywhere, can you point me to the nearest coffee shop? I woke up early, and I’m exhausted. My excitement wouldn’t let me sleep last night.”

I was too busy thinking of my reunion with Ben. The very person who has yet to respond to my calls and texts. My good mood plummets at the thought, but I keep my smile firmly set. It’s one thing for me to tell Raven about having been a foster kid, but it’s another to share my doubts concerning Ben’s silence.

Her eyes light up at the mention of coffee. “Oh, I know just the place. There’s this super cool cafe off-campus called Brewed Awakenings. Epic name, right? It has a goth vibe with the best espresso around. I basically live there.”

“There’s nothing on campus? I still have orientation to go to in a little while.”

“Fine,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “We’ll go to the lame coffee shop by the library.”

I tilt my head. “Are you a freshman too?”

“Yup! My older brother graduated from here, so I know everything about this place. Why don’t I give you a quick introductory tour and after that, we’ll go to orientation?”

“Sounds good.”

She jumps to her feet, her black combat boots striking the floor with a thud. “Come on, Delilah. Let us fuel up, and then it’s onto plotting our glorious piss-ridden path to infamy!”

My laughter bursts out of me, honest and refreshing. I can’t remember the last time I felt this light and just… happy. Yes, I’m concerned about Ben’s lack of communication, and I miss Gloria and the girls, but I’m on a journey to accomplish what few people with my background do: attend an Ivy League college on a full scholarship.

If that doesn’t make me a badass, I don’t know what would.

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Chapter 11DELILAH

“Dude,” Raven says, nudging me slightly in the back. “Keep walking. It’s just a coffee shop.”

“Erm…” I mumble.

Crystal chandeliers hang lower over the seating areas, their warm glow reflecting off the polish mahogany floorboards. One wall hosts floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with well-known literature and some non-fiction texts. Plush couches and leather armchairs provide cozy nooks for reading or quiet conversation.

The main counter is sleek dark gray marble with gold trim, displaying pyramids of brightly colored macarons and cream-filled pastries under glass domes. An intricate brass espresso machine takes center stage. Given the number of levers and buttons, I doubt I could learn to use it. Molecular compounds are more straightforward.

“This isn’t just a coffee shop,” I whisper to Raven as she bypasses me. “This is… a work of art.”

What I really want to say is this is somewhere I don’t belong. This coffee shop is the nicest place I’ve ever stepped foot in, besides walking across this campus. I thought I could handle people throwing their money in my face, but I wasn’t prepared to feel inadequate because of a vintage-looking espresso machine, for fuck’s sake.

Raven glances back at me with amusement sparkling in her eyes. “You just wait until I take you to Brewed Awakenings. This place sucks in comparison.”

The employee behind the register purses her lips at Raven and I shrug as if that’ll excuse her rudeness. Note to self: Raven has a bigger mouth than I do.

She orders something that should put her into cardiac arrest. I end up getting a regular latte with caramel. It’s fancy enough for me.

“Do you want to sip and walk or finish up here first and then go exploring?” she asks me.

“Let’s sit for a little bit.”

We settle into a couch located directly in front of the window, surrounded by the comforting aroma of coffee and the gentle murmur of conversation. I try not to moan when I take my first drink, but I’m totally a slut for caffeinated sugar.

Raven stirs a packet of sweetener into her cup. “So, are you ready for the inside info on navigating this pretentious institute of higher learning?”

“Bring it on.”

“If I was you, I’d make nice with the baristas here on campus.”

I scoff. “You haven’t.”

“That’s because I go to the one off campus.” She waves a hand in dismissal. “Trust me, you’ll want the caffeine when pulling all-nighters writing papers on… whatever the fuck psychiatrists care about.”

“What else?”

“Let me see your class schedule. That way I can tell you about the professors and which ones are assholes.”

I pull up on my schedule on my phone, ignoring the pang of disappointment that rises when I find I have no texts from Ben.

Raven takes my phone and stares at the screen with a hum. I swear my heart pounds in time with the tapping of her dark lacquered nails against the phone case.

“Okay, so definitely keep Dr. Yamamoto for English Composition. She’s tough but fair. I also hear she’s an awesome mentor if she’s not already tied up for the semester. You have good teachers for College Algebra and Human Growth and Development.” Raven hums. “Dr. Ames for General Chemistry should be avoided as much as possible. Sure, he seems charming with those custom-tailored suits and that Rolex watch, but everyone says he nitpicks papers to avoid giving A’s.”

I frown. “Damn. It doesn’t sound like I can do anything except work my ass off and pray for a B. I was hoping college was less about power trips than high school.”

Raven gives me an exasperated look. “This place is nothing but a gazillion power trips between students, professors, and the administration. Never underestimate the wealthy’s love of power. Besides, academia breeds pretentious bullshit. Just make sure you don’t step in it.”

“Right.”

“Raven!”

We both turn our heads in the direction of the speaker. A petite girl with a pixie cut and winged eyeliner stops in front of us. She’s dressed up in a pleated skirt and cardigan, with the first couple buttons undone and exposing generous amounts of cleavage.

I can’t tell if she’s a sexy nerd or a porn star.

“Hey, Juniper,” Raven greets with a friendly smile. “Did you have a good summer?”

“Oh, my gosh, yes! I discovered three new obscure mathematical theories to immerse myself in. They kept me busy.”

I blink up at her. Is this girl a math genius? Niiiice.

Raven bumps my shoulder with hers, breaking my stare. “Don’t mind my new roommate. Delilah is new, a fresh escapee from suburbia-land. Be gentle.”

“I’m June. Nice to meet you.” She tosses her blonde hair, and it bounces back in place. “Are you guys going to orientation?”

“Yeah.” Raven rolls her eyes. “Must be nice to be a sophomore and not have to go. What are you up to? Want to come with us?” Raven asks.

“It’ll be full of nerds.” She pops her bubblegum and sighs. “All of the hot guys won’t be there. Have you heard of any parties happening tonight?”

I shake my head, although I’m positive she isn’t asking me.

Raven does the same. “Sorry, girl. Looks like you’re not getting laid tonight.”

“Maybe.”

My roommate turns to me. “June is riding on a full scholarship for her brain. A math genius by day and a femme fatale by night.”

The blonde curtsies. “Keeps things interesting.”

“I was just about to give Delilah a tour of the campus,” Raven says. “Want to join us?”

“Sure.”

We follow Raven from the coffee shop with the sound of June’s heels clicking against the floor. Once outside, my roommate leads us past the library, a stately red brick building. Weathered by centuries of harsh New England winters, there is erosion along the corners. Ivy climbs along the sides as if wanting to obtain the knowledge within its walls.

“Do you see that garden in the back?” Raven asks. When I nod, she continues. “That’s the perfect spot for studying, or letting someone into your secret garden.”

June laughs. “Did you grow up reading Victorian romance or something, Raven? If you say manhood, I’m going to punch you in the face.” The woman turns to me. “Delilah, people go back there to get their dicks sucked and to suck dicks. It’s far from romantic, but it is fun though.”

“Speaking from personal experience or speculation?” I ask.

She winks at me. “Yes.”

I grin.

“Obviously, I know people go back there to hook up,” Raven says. “I just meant it’s good for privacy in general.”

June waggles her eyebrows. “Oh, it’s definitely good for privacy. Oh, my God. Look, it’s him.”

“Who’s him?” I whisper.

Our conversation halts as a tall figure emerges from the garden, walking with an air of confidence. And possibly… satisfaction? His dark brown hair is tousled across his head in an artfully mussed style. Or someone ran their fingers through his hair a lot.

His eyes glint with a smirk playing about his generous mouth. In contrast to his light-colored eyes, his clothing is completely black. A fitted t-shirt that accentuates the muscles of his biceps and torso, as well as the expanse of his back. His forearms are covered in dark ink, matching the rest of his attire. The cargo pants are tucked into boots that make no sound as he walks on the grass. He wears a watch that looks expensive even at a distance, and a single gold ring.

From this far, I can’t tell if it’s similar to Ben’s. Given the fact that we’re at a university, there’s a high probability he’s also part of the same fraternity.

June gasps, turning to me. “You don’t know who Xavier Donovan is? He’s only the most intriguing guy you’ll ever meet. Mysterious, brooding, and a bit of a legend around here.”

“Now who sounds like they read bodice rippers?” Raven says, jamming her elbow into June’s side.

The blonde lets out a feminine grunt. “Fine. He’s rich, hot as fuck, and supposedly has a gargantuan dick. Happy now?”

Raven looks over at Xavier and nods. “Actually, yeah.”

“Everyone calls him ‘X,’” June says. “I’ve heard it’s because he’s like the drug ecstasy. Once you’ve been with him, he makes you feel so good that you’ll get addicted after one hit.”

My mouth falls open. “Wow.”

She nods with a dreamy sigh. “Yup. He’s the one equation I can’t solve.”

“Don’t be such a whore.” Raven groans. “Yes, X is a challenge and everything, but like drugs, he’s bad for your health. Get over him, June.”

“I make no promises.”

Our conversation halts for the second time when a young woman with long chestnut curls emerges from the garden entrance, discreetly adjusting her clothes. She calls out to Xavier. He stops and turns to look at her over his shoulder before walking away, leaving her to chase after him.

“Pathetic,” Raven says. “I bet she’d be on her knees again if he asked, even though he just used her.”

June purses her lips. “I don’t know… There’s a reason why girls want him, even though he’s obviously a dick. Rumor has it that he’s not selfish in bed. That he gets off on you getting off. Probably some male ego thing, but it works for me.”

Raven nudges me and then June to start walking. “I have no doubt he’s hard to get over, but I think it’s better not to get involved in the first place. That man cares more about conquest than actually connecting.”

“You’re such a poet,” I say.

“Thank you.” She gives me a smile. “Now, let’s continue the tour on our way to orientation. I know it won’t get you laid, June, but Delilah wants to go so I’m going to support her.”

The blonde shrugs. “I’ll go. It’s not like I have anything better to do right now.”

I push all thoughts of Xavier out of my mind. Although I can’t deny his raw sexuality paired with his confidence sparks something in me, I’m not interested in having my life fall apart. It was broken for years, and I have no desire to return to that dysfunction.

Still… an image of his ring won’t leave my brain.

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Chapter 12XAVIER

Afew moments earlier…

The tranquility of the garden is a front. The secrets that people have whispered here cling to the leaves of the oaks and willows, and the wind has snatched the grunts and moans of people engaging in sexual gratification. This secluded area is nothing more than a place to hook up between classes.

I lean against the trunk of a nearby tree and cross my arms with impatience. Whatever logic led me to meeting Brenda clearly wasn’t sound. However, the urgency in her voice, along with her past relationship with Eric Gage, was enough to convince me.

Just as I’m about to leave, she steps out from the shadows, the library shielding her from the sun. Brenda’s dark hair is loose, framing her face and resting on her shoulders. As always, she’s dressed well, embodying sophistication and elegance despite her humble background. I assume she’s here on a scholarship. Not that I care enough to confirm.

“X,” she says in greeting. Her eyes glint with something carnal when she runs her gaze over me. “Thank you for meeting me.”

“What do you want?”

She stiffens slightly, her smile thinning but still bright. “I was hoping we could get to know each other a little bit better.” When I quirk a brow, she pouts, her expression turning coy. “I know things, and I’ll tell you what they are, but first you have to promise me something.”

I blow out a breath of frustration as my impatience morphs into irritation. “If you think you can bribe me, you’ve snorted way too much cocaine.”

She gasps with quiet outrage and her eyes widen. I scrutinize her thoroughly, taking in the dark circles underneath her eyes and the gauntness of her cheekbones that can’t be completely hidden by makeup.

“I know that you used to be with Eric,” I say. “I also know he’s a fucking asshole, so that couldn’t have ended well for you. Tell me what you’re really here for, Brenda.”

She reaches for the buttons on her shirt and slowly undoes the first one. “I don’t want to talk about Eric. I’m here to talk about us.”

Brenda takes a step closer and licks her lips, releasing the second button. The swells of her breasts come into view, and paired with her inviting smile, she makes an alluring picture. Or she would if I wasn’t obsessed with a green-eyed, beautifully violent woman.

I hold up my hand. Brenda’s reaction is immediate, a mixture of surprise and disappointment. She freezes, her fingers lingering on a button, her gaze locked on mine.

“I’m not fucking you,” I say.

“We can take it slow, if that’s what you want.” Her lips curl. “Although I didn’t think you were the type to wait.”

Well, fuck, that makes two of us. Yet I have been waiting. Three fucking years to be exact.

I haven’t been with another girl since the day I met Delilah. I value control, but I swear she’s taken over my mind and body to the point I can’t get off unless I’m thinking about her. Not that it’s a problem. I think about that girl constantly.

Which means I fuck myself all the time because of her. If I make it through the day without groaning Delilah’s name, it’s a fucking miracle.

Seeing her on campus has been the worst and best thing in my life. Having her near soothes something chaotic inside me, but then there’s the issue that I’m hard.

All. The. Fucking. Time.

It’s difficult to concentrate on my classes or my combat training when my dick is urging me to find her. Soon… After I get through the Trials and become a full-fledged member, a crow of the Obsidian Order, Delilah will be mine. Not just in my thoughts and fantasies, but she’ll share my last name.

Mrs. Delilah Donovan.

Fuck. Me.

“Um, X?” Brenda says, her voice dragging me out of my head. She drops her gaze to my groin and lifts it, her brows raised. “You say you’re not interested, but that says otherwise.”

“That isn’t for you.”

She scrunches her face in confusion. “Okay, sure.”

“If you have information, tell me now.”

Brenda narrows her gaze, and her nostrils flare. She buttons her shirt, her movements jittery. I scrutinize her, taking in subtle cues in her behavior and appearance that I initially overlooked because she’s not important to me.

“You’re going through withdrawal,” I say. “That’s what this is about.”

She transforms right before my eyes as her mask falls away. Instead of surrounding herself with a seductive air, the atmosphere shifts to something desperate, a deep craving etched into her features. Her playful smile disappears, and her body language, once soft and welcoming, turns hard.

“I’m not like you rich kids,” she says, her words venomous. “I can’t snap my fingers and get whatever I want. I need money.”

“No, you need to go to rehab.”

She blows out a breath. “I don’t have enough money for drugs, so how am I supposed to afford that?”

“I’ll pay for it. Being with Gage fucked you, but you don’t have to stay messed up.”

“You won’t fuck me, but you’ll pay for rehab?” She squints at me, suspicion churning in her gaze. “Why would you help me?”

“You got caught up in a bad situation that spiraled out of control.”

“If anyone finds out, I’ll lose my scholarship.”

I shrug. “I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“I don’t know if I can,” she whispers.

Her confession reveals the depth of her struggle. I pity her. Gage runs a drug empire, so he’s familiar with narcotics. He just doesn’t care that they ruin people. He certainly doesn’t give a shit about this girl and how it’s wrecking her life.

“Make a choice,” I say. “I’ll pay for it whether you give me information on Gage or not.”

There’s a moment of silence between us, filled with unspoken words and hidden motives. Her gaze darks back and forth, her tumultuous thoughts flitting across her face, betraying the tension simmering under her skin.

“Eric took a phone call when he thought I was asleep,” she says slowly. “I don’t know if it’ll be useful to you or not, but he did mention your last name.”

I listen attentively as Brenda divulges the details of Gage’s recent setbacks, her words painting a picture of vulnerability within his empire. The insight into his organization will allow me to tip the scales in my favor, especially now that I know he’s seeking to negotiate arms deals with my competitors to protect his supply chain. The Order likes everything to stay “in the family,” and the council will be pissed when they find out.

I relish the thought.

“Anything else?” I ask her.

Brenda shakes her head. “That’s all I heard.”

“Choose the facility you want to go to, and I’ll cover the costs,” I say.

“Okay.” She eyes me warily, her expression guarded. “Are you sure you don’t want to hook up? I’d do it for free.” When I shake my head, she runs her gaze over me and gasps. “You’re hung up on someone. That’s it, isn’t it?”

I don’t respond.

She smiles at me, and for the first time, it’s sincere, without any ulterior motives or deception. “She’s a lucky girl.”

Delilah is more than lucky, she’s my obsession. Every recruit entered a vow of celibacy for their senior year, but my oath was made way before then, to a girl who doesn’t even know my name.

Well, not yet.

When Delilah learns it, she’ll be screaming it.

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