Page 21

TWENTY-ONE

LEVI

I slam the door to The Manor, and the picture frames beside it rattle in protest. My keys land with a sharp clink in the dish on the table as I shrug off my coat and throw it on the hook before heading up the stairs toward my room.

“Kids with no talent at all,” I mutter.

Why am I wasting my time?

Teaching these little elite idiots is like trying to squeeze blood from a stone. They don’t have an ounce of talent inside. Their parents—faculty, alumni, or just plain rich—believe that talent is something they can purchase. As part of my senior project, I’m supposed to mentor three of them, give them weekly lessons in art. I thought I was doing something noble, thought maybe I could actually teach them something. Instead, all I’ve gotten is a headache and a reminder that not everyone is worth the effort.

I rake a hand through my hair and throw myself onto the black sheets, fists clenched, eyes burning with frustration. I’ve poured everything into this—my time, my energy, my expertise. And for what? To deal with a bunch of spoiled brats who think talent is something that just falls into their laps? They don’t understand that talent is rare, precious, and none of them have it.

I change out of my business casual attire, swapping it for gray sweatpants and a black, sleeveless gym shirt. My anger starts to ebb only as I head back downstairs and catch the smell of cooking. A small pang of hunger reminds me I haven’t eaten at all today. As I round the corner into the kitchen, I see Sable through the archway, chopping vegetables and giggling.

Her smile is wide, her cheeks flushed as she laughs at something Dayton said. His voice, always loud and grating, booms through the space. When I walk into the kitchen, they both turn to me with warm faces, but all I can muster is a tired nod.

“Hey, Levi,” Sable chirps, her voice annoyingly cheery.

It’s a nice change, since she had been moping for a few days after Silas “fucked some sense into her,” as he so eloquently put it when he stormed into The Manor after it happened.

I study her face as she goes back to chopping onions and garlic, making jokes about her eyes watering.

“Where are Si and Kai?” I ask.

Dayton throws his head back as he seasons some chicken breasts. “Training for the fight Friday.”

I nod, still watching Sable as she works. Her hair is pulled into two messy buns on top of her head. Her makeup is a little worn, probably from Dayton fucking her earlier—if the group chat is anything to go by.

Maybe that’s why she’s in such a good mood. I know I’m a lot more pleasant after a good fuck.

“Are we going to that fight?” I ask as I sit down on the barstool and place my head in the palm of my hand, holding myself up.

“I want to go!” Sable says. “Mainly so I can cheer for the other guy.”

I chuckle. “It’s an internal fight. A scrimmage mainly. Someone else in DSN wants to fight Silas. No money is involved this time. So it’s just fun.”

“Why is he doing it for money?” Sable asks.

“He isn’t. You know he doesn’t need it,” Dayton butts in with a complete lie. We all know Silas is on this path of righteousness trying to prove to his father he doesn’t need his family’s last name to make it.

I don’t give a shit why Silas is doing it. What pisses me off is that he’s willing to risk furthering his shoulder injury to beat the crap out of some dumbass frat dude.

I don’t fight, and for good reason. The risk of shattering my hand and never being able to play piano again isn’t worth it. I’ll spar with Silas occasionally, but mostly, I’m the one holding the glove for him to punch.

Seems as though Silas has completely written off any chance of him being able to play lacrosse again.

I take a moment to breathe deeply, attempting to let go of the day’s frustration. It wasn’t the kids that did me in; it was my own father. I’ve been trying to get his help to investigate the recent murders on campus. I even snuck into Asher’s dorm to take pictures and almost got caught by security.

But he’s been avoiding my calls, and when he can’t completely avoid me, he brushes me off with vague answers. It’s infuriating, especially when I know he could help. He’s worked alongside the FBI for decades as a private investigator. He has access to records that Kai dreams of hacking into.

I wouldn’t be pushing him so hard if the symbol found by Sable and Dayton and then the simplified cross found at the crime scenes.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Dayton finishing up with the chicken, while Sable prepares plates for the three of us. Despite her elite background, there’s no clumsiness in her movements. She’s not one of those privileged types who can’t fend for themselves.

And a part of me likes that. More than I’d admit.

We sit at the table, and I mostly keep to myself, as usual. Growing up with Dayton taught me to let him dominate the conversation. He’s the talker, effortlessly charming Sable as she melts into his touch whenever he grazes her arm for the salt. I watch the way her eyes linger on his mouth as he talks; her smile wide, hanging on his every word.

Attachments have always been a mystery to me, something for the weak to cling to. I’ve never seen the point. The only reason I’m tied to Dayton is because, at thirteen, my father decided to drop the bomb that he was my brother. Protesting would have been useless; Dayton had already latched onto me like a damn parasite from the moment he knew I existed.

And where there’s Dayton, there’s Silas—like some twisted package deal I didn’t ask for. Silas, though, is more tolerable. Unlike Dayton, who constantly shoves his foot in his mouth, Silas knows when to back off. He’s smart, too—feeds off the challenge when I push him, thrive on the tests I throw his way. He likes being forced to think, to lead. I give him that, and he eats it up.

Craves it.

Looks for it when new issues creep up in the frat.

Kai, though—Kai is my twin flame, the only person who ever made me feel like I wasn’t completely alone in this world. He’s unique, a rare breed, beautiful in ways that go beyond the surface.

But now, he’s trapped, caught up in Sable’s web like the rest.

I don’t like sharing.

After Victoria, group play lost its appeal. I fell for Victoria—God knows when or how, because now the sight of her turns my stomach.

She fed my darkest urges, let me push her to the edge and back again. But then she shattered our trust—my trust—and it took every ounce of restraint, plus the combined force of the guys, to stop me from crushing her windpipe with my bare hands.

When her long black hair whips past me now, all I want is to wrap it around my wrist and bash it against the closest wall.

It started the same way it did with Sable. Dayton or Silas showed interest, then Kai got pulled in, and finally, they dragged me along for the ride. We’ve done it before, at parties and whatnot. But Victoria—Victoria was different. She was our only girl .

I’ll never have a relationship again.

Relationships are for people who want to breed, to leave something behind. Not me. I have no interest in spreading my seed around. That’s why fucking Kai is a better option than sinking into any pussy. At least with him. I know where I stand.

“Levi, remember that time in high school when you tried making spaghetti and ended up pouring the sauce into the strainer with the noodles? All the sauce went straight down the drain,” Dayton teases.

I roll my eyes, though a grin tugs at my lips. “Yeah, sure. Remember that time you tried grilling burgers a month ago and forgot to flip them? We ended up gnawing on hockey pucks for dinner.”

Sable bursts out laughing, nearly choking on her food.

Dayton raises his hands in mock surrender. “Hey! There was an important game on the TV.”

I shake my head. “It was a rerun of basketball from last season, which we lost.”

Sable giggles at Dayton’s fallen face.

“Hey, at least Sable saved dinner tonight.”

“Thanks, Levi,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

The moment the words leave my mouth, I feel a familiar tightening in my chest—the warning signs of vulnerability creeping in. Compliments like that—they’re dangerous. They open doors I can’t afford to walk through, create connections I’m better off avoiding. I watch the blush spread across her cheeks and instantly regret saying anything at all.

It’s easier to keep people at a distance, to shut down before they can get too close. Before they can see past the walls I’ve built. Sable’s too damn good at slipping through the cracks, making me feel things I have no business feeling.

Dayton puffs out his chest, attempting to recover. “Yeah. I did the chicken this time. No hockey pucks.”

I dismiss him with a wave. “Yeah, yeah, don’t whip your dick out yet.”

Sable laughs again, and her smile reaches her eyes. She looks at both of us, warmth radiating from her in a way that hits too close to home. For a moment, I feel myself leaning into it—into her, into this little piece of normalcy—but I catch myself, pulling back before I can sink any deeper.

“Hey, why don’t we watch a movie?” she suggests, glancing at the cozy living room. “It’ll be fun. We can relax on the couch and just chill. I need that.”

Dayton nods enthusiastically. “Sounds good to me. Wanna join, Levi?”

I hesitate, glancing at the inviting couch. The thought of sitting close to Sable and Dayton, sharing a comfortable silence, is almost too tempting. It’s not that I don’t want to join them—it’s that I want it more than I should.

Getting too comfortable around her? Dangerous. I’ve played this game before, and I know how it ends. Sable’s more than just a fleeting attraction or a one time thing, and that makes her off- limits for someone like me. I can’t let myself get dragged into her orbit.

I force a casual smile. “I think I’ll pass, guys. I’ve got some stuff I need to take care of.”

Dayton raises an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “Like what? Your big plans involve more glaring at your music sheets?”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Something like that. You two enjoy the movie. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Sable gives me a curious look but doesn’t press the issue. “Alright, but you’re missing out. Maybe next time?”

“Definitely,” I say, trying to sound convincing. “Have fun, you two.”

I retreat to my room, the door closing with a soft click behind me. Leaning against it, I take a deep breath. The thought of going down there anyway lingers in my mind, but I know I made the right choice. Wanting something too much can be dangerous, and I can’t afford to lose control. Not now.

I glance out onto my small balcony, the night sky dotted with stars. For now, I’ll stick to the shadows, keeping my distance. It’s safer that way. Safer for everyone.