Page 5

FIVE

DAYTON

A shen Grove University. The legacy school . Built on a mass burial ground from some epidemic about a hundred and fifty years ago—or some shit like that. I don’t really care. The history of this place has never mattered much to me, even though it’s a constant topic of conversation between the faculty and alumni. First a hospital, then a war shelter, and eventually a boarding school for the privileged before turning into the elite university it is today. The kind of place where we’re meant to “seclude ourselves and focus on our studies” before taking over our fathers’ companies and continuing whatever power trip they’ve passed down through the generations.

Or some shit like that. Again, I don’t really pay attention.

School’s easy when you can game the system. For someone like me, it’s not hard to get what I want. Professors—especially the female ones—tend to forget about my assignments if I flash them a smile or give them a taste of the Hughes charm. And the male professors? They either want advice on how to make their wives come, or worse, they want me to show them. It’s pathetic, really, but it keeps things running smoothly. Let them feel like they’ve learned something, and I get to keep my pristine GPA without lifting a finger.

Most of the buildings around here are ancient, though, each with its own twisted history. Ashen Grove has been through hell and back, rebuilt and rebranded a hundred times. But that’s not the important part. The important part is the legacy. Being a legacy here means everything—especially when your last name is Hughes. My father, his father, and his father before him all went here. The pressure to live up to that kind of pedigree is enough to crush most people.

But not me. I’m good at playing the part.

Kai and I walk across the campus toward the old chapel. It’s been our unofficial frat party grounds for years—a neutral space where the frats can throw co-parties without worrying about destroying someone’s house. The party’s already in full swing by the time we reach the clearing, the bonfire casting long shadows over the drunk masses. Neon string lights glow like halos around the trees, and the heavy bass from someone’s truck makes the ground vibrate beneath my feet.

Kai’s still in his clean dress shirt, a blue tie hanging stiffly around his neck, and I shake my head. “Would it kill you to ditch the tie?” I tease. “You’re starting to look as uptight as my brother sometimes.”

He smirks, his lips curling in that way he does when he’s about to make a smart-ass remark. “Levi likes it when I’m tight for?—”

Hold up a hand to stop him, groaning. “Dude, stop. I do not need to hear about my brother fucking you. You’re bisexual—I get it, but sometimes you’re too... gay for me.” I laugh it off, but it’s true. There are some things I don’t want to imagine, and my older brother fucking Kai is at the top of that list. “Be a top every once in a while, will you?”

Kai chuckles, yanking the tie off his neck and undoing a few buttons to expose his tattooed chest. His ink snakes up his skin like a living thing, curling around his collarbone. “Happy now?”

“Happier if I wasn’t stuck doing this bullshit,” I mutter, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Officer of a frat sounded appealing, until it meant I had to be at all these fucking parties when I had better shit to do…” Like continue to obsess over Sable Wilson’s fucking face.

I hear a loud shout from my left. “Hughes!” Turning, I spot a few guys from Omega Chi walking toward us, with Dredyn Steele leading the pack. The guy’s always been a piece of shit, with his black hair slicked back, save for a few strands that perpetually hang in front of his eyes. His dad works somewhere high up in my step-father’s company, and for whatever reason, that gives him a sense of entitlement. He’s constantly trying to act like we’re equals, as if his connection makes us brothers in some way.

Spoiler: it doesn’t.

“Steele,” I say, extending a hand. He grips it too firmly, his smirk already in place.

“Big turnout tonight,” Dredyn says, his eyes scanning the crowd like a predator. “Lots of fresh meat.”

“Virgins aren’t really my thing,”

“Oh, yeah?” His voice drops as he leans in slightly, that same smug grin on his face. “Prefer them a bit used? I could hook you up with my leftovers.”

“Thanks, but I’m good,” I reply, not missing a beat. “I prefer not to contract a disease.”

He laughs, his smirk deepening. “I’ll have you know we test regularly.”

“But y’all still don’t wrap it,” I shoot back, not breaking eye contact. I never go in raw, unlike OCK, who is known for their trains where they just constantly fill a girl up until she’s covered in cum.

Dredyn shrugs. “Touché. Guess we’ll see who wins the prize tonight. Heard there’s a new girl, according to my linebacker, Asher. Pretty and tight little blonde.”

He’s talking about Sable. I make sure not to react. That would only fuel his fire.

“It’s not a competition, Dre.” Mainly because if it was, then Silas would win instantly. He would make sure of it.

“Isn’t it?” he asks, his eyebrow smiling before he turns and walks off. “Catch you later, Hughes.”

Kai nudges me with his shoulder, his smile playing at the corners of his lips. “And just so you know, I do, top,” he whispers, his voice laced with amusement. “Your brother fucking loves it.”

I roll my eyes, brushing off his comment. “Let’s just not be here all night,” I mutter, steering us toward the mass of people. “I’ve got a fucking test to study for.”

We’re here to make sure Sable doesn’t get herself into trouble. Kai spotted her and her roommate earlier, heading to the party, and Silas has made it abundantly clear: no one is to touch her. Not a hand, not a word. It’s like he’s put an invisible fence around her, and we’re the ones tasked with playing bodyguards.

Without talking or touching her ourselves.

Sounds fucking boring.

The area around the chapel is alive with the chaotic energy of the party. Strings of fairy lights are haphazardly draped between trees, casting a flickering glow across the cracked stone path leading to the entrance. A few students are already too drunk to stand, leaning on each other or slumped against trees like they’re part of the decor. Kegs are scattered around the grounds, the typical frat party setup—people bullshitting, screwing, or doing lines off someone’s phone.

Kai walks beside me, his grin infuriatingly smug. “I’ve got Tessa in my back pocket if you want her,” he offers, waggling his eyebrows like the shit-stirrer he is.

“You’re still fucking her?” I raise an eyebrow, though I already know the answer.

He shakes his head, amused. “I never fucked her. She reeks of crazy. But I may have told her you might.”

I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “You must have a death wish.”

“You know, in the past week, I’ve been threatened twice by my closest friends,” he says, feigning hurt. “I’m starting to feel unappreciated.”

I don’t even dignify his dramatics with a response, letting him ramble on as I scan the crowd. Silas couldn’t make it tonight—too busy with training. Levi, of course, had to be with him. It’s always the same with Silas. Instead of just asking for help, he goes about things in the most complicated way. He could’ve asked me to pull some strings, get Levi or even my parents to lend him the money, but no.

Pride will kill Silas one day.

Ever since Sable showed up, Silas has been insufferable. I know bits and pieces of the story—she flunked out of school last year and somehow made it back.

They were friends as kids. Grew up alongside each other. They dated for, what, a week in high school? Barely enough time to blink. So why is he rearranging her schedule, ensuring one of us is always in her classes? Why did he pull strings to change her housing from single occupancy to having a roommate? It’s one thing to do all this to appease their mothers, but the obsession feels deeper.

I may not understand Silas’ fixation, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get the appeal. When I ran into her at the library today, it wasn’t intentional, but damn, I’m glad it happened. I didn’t expect her to literally fall into my arms, looking up at me with those wide, innocent eyes, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. And when she realized who I was and tried to backpedal.

How cute.

There were a few times that I briefly was around her back in highschool, usually at things our parents would force all of us to attend.

If I couldn’t get out of the affair.

Sable was the girl next door—simple, sweet. She wasn’t the type of girl I usually go for. I never cared about girls who weren’t flaunting double Ds or offering themselves up like a party favor.

But now? Something’s changed.

Her lips were all I could think about after that encounter. Full and pink, just begging to be bitten, sucked until they turn crimson. And her eyes—innocent, sure, but there’s something underneath them.

Something untouched.

The kind of thing that makes a guy like me want to devour. Her body might not be the kind of voluptuous figure I typically gravitate toward, but there’s a softness there, a subtle curve that pulls you in. When my hand brushed against her today, I felt something light up under my skin, a fire I didn’t expect.

Then there was this grace about her, and effortless beauty that was maddening for my mind to comprehend.

But why her?

I weave through the throngs of people, my eyes scanning for Sable. Dredyn had mentioned some “new blonde” tonight, and I’ll be damned if he gets to her before I do. The music blares from Omega Chi’s lifted Silverado, the bass pounding in my chest. A few of our frat brothers are gathered near the truck, cheering as a redhead does a keg stand. The air smells like a mix of beer, sweat, and weed, the usual cocktail of a frat party.

The old chapel looms ahead, its crumbling stone facade swallowed by shadows. The place is practically falling apart—broken windows, doors hanging off their hinges, graffiti covering what’s left of the pews. Still, no one seems to care. The interior is just as trashed, couples making out between overturned pews, bottles and cans scattered everywhere. It’s almost poetic in its chaos.

I continue past the altar, ignoring the makeshift dance floor some idiots set up with a few speakers. My destination is the catacombs below the chapel—the real draw of this place. I crunch glass underfoot as I make my way toward the door leading to the underground. I’ve been here enough times to know that if Sable’s not outside, she’ll be down there, tangled up in the thick of the party.

But I don’t plan on letting her get too deep into this mess. Silas may be an overbearing prick, but he’s made his position on Sable clear. He doesn’t want anyone touching her. Which, of course, makes me want to break that rule. There’s something intoxicating about knowing what’s off-limits. And Sable? She’s the definition of forbidden.

The catacombs are dark and damp, the air heavy with the scent of mold and spilled beer. I push open the door, stepping into the underground room where even more of the party has gathered. The music down here is quieter, but the tension in the air is thick. Couples are tucked into corners, and there’s a group smoking something loud, it makes me cough. No sign of Sable yet, but I’ll find her.

I always do.

Each footfall is muffled by the damp air, the sounds of the party above fading as I move further into the shadows. The distant music is nothing more than a dull thump now, overtaken by the sound of hushed conversations and the occasional moan from couples tangled up in darkened alcoves.

As I round a corner, I spot her.

Sable.

Her back is to me, her hair cascading down in soft waves, a delicate gold clip holding part of it up. She stands at the end of the narrow hall, motionless, staring into one of the small alcoves carved out of the stone. Something about the way she’s standing—so still, so focused—makes my pulse quicken. I approach quietly, drawn to her like a magnet, my eyes fixed on her.

She has no idea I’m here, not yet.

When I’m close enough, I see what’s captured her attention. A petite blonde, splayed between two members of Omega Chi, is at the mercy of their relentless rhythm. One’s pounding into her from behind, while the other’s filling her ass, her muffled moans caught by a lace gag—probably her own panties. The slapping of skin is rhythmic, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

Sable’s breathing is shallow, her body tense. Her flushed cheeks and the way she nervously chews on her thumb tell me everything I need to know.

She’s aroused, fascinated, though she’s probably telling herself she shouldn’t be watching.

Her eyes are wide, locked on the scene before her, as if she’s frozen in place.

I move in closer, stepping into her space, until my breath is warm against her ear. “Enjoying the show?”

She jumps, spinning to face me with wide, embarrassed eyes. For a moment, we just stand there, the sounds of the threesome filling the space between us. “Dayton,” she whispers, her voice shaky. “I... I didn’t mean to?—”

I cut her off with a finger pressed to her lips, my eyes locking onto hers. There’s no need for excuses; I already know what this is. Without a word, I grab her wrist gently and drag her around the corner into an alcove of our own. I press her back against the cold stone wall, caging her in with my arms on either side of her head, my face hovering inches from hers. Her eyes are glassy, the faint sheen of alcohol evident. She’s been drinking, no doubt trying to drown whatever she’s been running from.

I smirk, leaning down until my lips are by her ear again, my hand coming up to cup her jaw. “Tell me, did you enjoy it?”

Her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of crimson, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she swallows hard and gives a small nod, her eyes flickering with something between embarrassment and defiance. I can see the conflict in her hazel gaze, those tiny flecks of gold shimmering against the dim light.

“You know,” I murmur, my voice low and teasing, as I brush her hair off her shoulder, exposing the soft curve of her neck, “there’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone has their kinks.” I pause, letting my hand trace the line of her collarbone before resting it on her waist. “I know a thing or two about kinks—exhibitionism has always been my thing. There’s a thrill in being watched, in knowing that others are seeing what’s meant to be private.”

Without waiting for a response, I capture her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing the soft gasp that escapes her. My hand moves to the nape of her neck, pulling her closer until her body is pressed against mine, every inch of her fitting perfectly against me. Her lips are soft, pliant, and the taste of alcohol lingers as my tongue teases hers, deepening the kiss.

My hand slides from her neck down to her waist, feeling the curve of her hip beneath the fabric of her blue turtleneck tank top.

Her hands come up, tentative at first, resting against my chest. I can feel the hesitation in her touch, but it doesn’t last long. There’s a hunger building in her kiss, and she presses closer, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt, pulling me to her as if she’s craving something only I can give her.

I pull back just enough to meet her gaze, our breaths mingling in the scant space between us. “You’re dangerous, Sable,” I murmur, my voice a low rasp.

Her hazel eyes search mine, the gold flecks shimmering with something raw and primal. “Because of Silas?” she whispers, barely audible over the distant thump of music and the muted sounds of the party. “Fuck him.” There’s a little hiccup in her voice, and I realize she’s more intoxicated than I initially thought.

A slow smile spreads across my face. I lean in closer, tracing my fingers along the curve of her jaw before trailing them down her neck. “Atta girl,” I purr, savoring the way she shivers at my touch. “You’re so fucking pliable. Just feel how you melt for me.”

I bring her wrists together above her head, holding them there gently with one hand as I kiss her again, slower this time, savoring the feel of her lips against mine. My free hand roams over her body, exploring every curve, every soft inch of skin beneath the fabric of her top. She arches into my touch, her body responding to me instinctively, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Keep them there,” I command softly, referring to her hands, my eyes locking onto hers. She nods, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her excitement grows.

I slide my hand under the hem of her shirt, feeling the warmth of her skin against my fingertips. She gasps, her back arching against the stone as I pull the fabric up, exposing her stomach, her ribs, and finally the delicate lace of her bra. Her nipples are hard beneath the thin material, and I can’t resist leaning down to brush my lips against one, hearing her breath hitch in response.

“So beautiful,” I murmur, my breath hot against her skin. I kiss my way up her body, pausing to nip at her collarbone before capturing her lips once more. My hand moves to the waistband of her jeans, teasing the button before undoing it with a slow, deliberate motion.

Sable gasps, her breath hitching as I slip my hand inside, the warmth of her core radiating through the thin fabric of her panties.

I press my palm against her, feeling the dampness already soaking through. “Dayton,” she breathes, her voice trembling with need, her hips instinctively pressing into my hand, seeking more. “Please”

A grin tugs at the corner of my lips. She’s so responsive, so eager, and the sound of her plea only heightens the control I feel over her. “Patience, babygirl,” I whisper against her ear, nipping at her earlobe. “You’re so fucking wet for me. Goddamn.”

Her whimper is soft, but the desperation in it is unmistakable. “Dayton... please... don’t stop.”

I grin, unable to resist the way her body calls out to me. I slip my hand beneath the lace of her panties, feeling the slickness of her arousal as my fingers brush over her. I groan softly at how ready she is for me, and without hesitation, I plunge two fingers into her, feeling her tight heat envelop me.

“I have no intention of stopping, babygirl,” I murmur. My breath brushes against the curve of her neck as my fingers delve deeper, exploring her, memorizing the way her body reacts to my every move. I start slow, dragging my fingers in and out, feeling the way she clenches around me, her hips bucking against my hand, desperate for more. Her moans grow louder, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as I push her closer and closer to the edge.

“Ride my fucking hand, Sable,” I growl, my voice thick with lust as I press her harder against the wall, my fingers curling inside her, hitting the spot that makes her cry out in pleasure.

Her body responds instantly, her hips grinding against my hand, chasing the release she craves. Her hands grip my shoulders, fingers digging into my shirt as she clings to me, her head falling back against the stone wall, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted in ecstasy. I feel her unravel beneath my touch; the tension coiling in her body as she rides the wave of pleasure, each moan louder than the last.

When she finally shatters, it’s with a sharp cry of pure ecstasy, her body trembling violently as the orgasm crashes over her. I hold her steady, my fingers still moving inside her, drawing out every last bit of pleasure as her hips buck against me. She clings to me, her legs weak, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps as she rides the aftershocks.

I don’t stop. I prolong it, my fingers working relentlessly, keeping her on the edge until she’s trembling, completely spent and boneless against the wall. Her breath is shallow, her body limp as she sags against me, utterly undone.

Slowly, I pull my hand from her, my fingers slick with her release. I hold them up to her lips for a moment, teasing, then bring them to my own mouth. My eyes locked on hers as I slide my fingers between my lips, tasting her. Her eyes widen, her breath catching as she watches me lick them clean, my tongue sliding over each finger, savoring the taste of her arousal.

“Fuck, you taste like my new favorite sin,” I murmur, my voice low as I take in her reaction—the way her pupils dilate, the soft parting of her lips as she watches, transfixed.

I kiss her softly, gently, letting the heat of the moment dissolve into something more intimate, letting her taste her own arousal. Her lips are soft and swollen, her breath shaky as she returns the kiss. I pull back slightly, my lips brushing against hers as I whisper, “I told you, babygirl. You’re fucking lethal.”

“Oh! I see you caught a little mouse.” Kai laughs, instantly pulling me out of the moment. I release my hold on Sable, stepping back as the heat between us dissipates. My mind snaps into a defensive mode as Kai’s eyes widen, taking in the scene—Sable’s flushed face, her disheveled clothes, the undone button on her jeans. “Silas won’t be too happy about whatever this is...?”

I step forward, trying to divert his attention from her. “We’re fine, Kai. Just had a... moment.”

“A moment?” He raises an eyebrow, looking between me and Sable. “With her pants undone and—” He trails off, eyes flashing with knowing judgment.

Sable tugs at her shirt, trying to cover herself better. Her hands shake slightly as she fumbles to redo the button on her jeans. “It’s not what it looks like,” she stammers, her voice small, the embarrassment hitting her hard now that the heat of the moment is fading. But the flush on her cheeks, the way she avoids his gaze, tells a different story.

Kai smirks. “Whatever you say.” His eyes flick back to me, his grin widening.

Sable looks between the two of us, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Wait… little mouse?” she backtracks, her voice sharper now. “What do you mean, caught me?”

Kai scratches the back of his head, suddenly avoiding her gaze, his casual bravado faltering for a second. “Yeah... you’re Silas’ girl, right?”

Her reaction is instant, her body stiffening. “Very far from it.”

“Well, I mean, the guy wouldn’t be having us follow you for nothing.”

I sigh, palming my face, knowing exactly what’s coming. It takes her a few seconds, but I can see the moment when the pieces click together. Her eyes widen, her expression morphing from embarrassment to fury. “Silas!?” she exclaims.

Yep, there it is. Her buzz vanishes in an instant, replaced by pure anger. “Why the fuck is Silas—” She doesn’t finish her sentence, cutting herself off with a frustrated grunt as she brushes past me, her small frame pushing through the narrow alcove. Kai and I exchange a look before quickly following her, her tiny strides surprisingly fast as she storms down the darkened hallway, up the stairs, and out of the catacombs.

By the time we catch up to her, she’s already outside, shoving through the crowd that’s easily doubled since we first arrived. The once dimly lit chapel is now a chaotic scene of neon lights and bodies, the thrum of bass vibrating the air around us. Sable doesn’t seem to care, her singular focus on escaping.

“Where are you going?” I call after her, but she ignores me, her fists clenched at her sides.

She reaches the parking lot and scans the rows of cars, her frustration building until she stomps her foot on the ground. “God dammit.”

Kai and I finally catch up, and I can tell by the look on her face that she’s beyond furious. “Missing your ride?” Kai asks, half-smirking. “Heather’s notorious for bailing early. She probably figured you’d find another way back.”

Sable groans, dragging her hands through her hair. “Fuck me. Call Silas. I want him here now so I can kick his ass.”

“He’s busy tonight,” I interject, trying to reason with her.

“I don’t give a fuck. Call. Him.” Her eyes flash with rage, daring me to defy her.

Reluctantly, I pull out my phone, scrolling to Silas’ number. But before I can press the dial, a blood-curdling scream pierces the night air, sending a cold shock through my system. My phone drops to the ground. Without hesitation, Kai and I bolt toward the sound, our adrenaline kicking in. Sable follows close behind, her anger momentarily forgotten.

As we burst through the trees, Tessa comes stumbling out of the darkness, her face drained of color, her eyes wide with terror. She’s trembling, her makeup smeared, and her breaths coming in frantic gasps. “Help! Please, help me!” she cries, her voice cracking with panic.

Kai reaches for her first, wrapping an arm around her trembling shoulders. “Tessa, what happened? Are you hurt?”

Tessa shakes her head violently, her face pale and streaked with tears. “I-I was just... giving him head,” she stammers, barely able to form the words between sobs. “In the woods. And h-he just collapsed.”

“Call nine-one-one!” I shout over my shoulder at Sable, who’s already fumbling with her phone, her fingers shaking as she dials. My eyes lock onto Tessa as she grips Kai tightly, her entire body wracked with fear. “We need to help him. Where is he?”

“It’s no use.” Tessa’s blue eyes meet him. “He’s dead.”

“Who’s dead?” Kai asks.

“Toby,” she croaks. “Toby Lancaster.”

I feel a cold dread sink into my gut. Toby? One of ours. He’s a senior at Ashen Grove, always quiet, always a little out of place in the frat. His dad forced him to join us, but Toby had always seemed more suited for Psi Theta, the nerdy frat.

“Kai, clear the place out,” I say, my voice steady, though my mind is racing. “Then take Sable home.”

Sable’s head snaps to me, and it seems she might protest, but she can tell that all the joking, lighthearted part of me has dissolved, and she just nods. Kai runs off, and moments later, the music stops abruptly, and Kai’s unusually loud voice tells everyone to get the fuck off the property.

Tessa collapses onto the ground, tugging at her short hair, her sobs quiet but heartbreaking. I glance over at Sable, and she looks back at me, her expression helpless. I can tell she doesn’t know what to do, and honestly, neither do I.

I don’t handle crying women well.

I might have a reputation as a womanizer, but tears?

Tears aren’t my thing.

I shrug at Sable, but she just rolls her eyes at me, exasperated. Taking a deep breath, she kneels beside Tessa, her hands hovering awkwardly before she finally rests them on her back. “It’s going to be okay,” Sable murmurs, her voice shaky but kind. She pats Tessa’s back a few times, offering whatever comfort she can before stepping away.

About thirty minutes later, after the area is cleared, Sable leaves with Kai, and Silas arrives, hot off his R7. He rips his helmet off, placing it underneath his arm as he makes his way toward me. The police have already roped off the area around the forest, and I called in a few of the pledges to make sure no other frats are snooping.

“How does someone have a heart attack while getting head?” Silas roars. His black shirt sticks to him like a second skin, and his hair is still damp from a shower. There’s a thin cut on his cheekbone, and his knuckles are busted.

“What the fuck happened to you?” I ask, eyeing the fresh injury.

Silas waves me off, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the police tape around the forest. “Fucking Levi trained with me tonight. Dude’s brutal.”

“Her story doesn’t add up,” I reply, nodding toward Tessa, who’s still sitting by the police car, sobbing quietly. “Toby’s dead. Collapsed, she says. But something’s off.”

Silas curses under his breath, storming over to one of the officers. They exchange a few words before Silas comes back to me, his expression grim. “We’ve got class in the morning. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He slips his helmet back on, giving me a nod. “Wanna ride?”

I shake my head, needing the walk to clear my head. “Nah, I’ll take the fresh air.”

The walk back to the house is quiet, the early morning air breezing across my face. When I reach the house, something catches my eye against the wall beside the front door.

An upside-down cross, drawn by a finger. I fish for my phone in my pocket and turn on the flashlight, waving it over the crude artwork. The thick red substance drips slightly since the person left it there. Intrigued and slightly apprehensive, I stick my finger into the substance and bring it toward my forearm, wiping it across. The texture is slick and sticky.

Bringing my finger to my nose, I inhale cautiously. The metallic tang hits my senses immediately, confirming my suspicion. Blood. It’s a distinct odor—coppery, slightly salty, and carrying a hint of iron.

The hair on my other arm stands up. Why the fuck would someone put a bloodied cross on our house?

I don’t think—I act—running inside to the mudroom and grabbing the first piece of clothing I find. I quickly remove the bloodied artwork from the wall, scrubbing furiously, leaving nothing more than a small damp stain. As I toss the stained hoodie in the trash, a creeping unease settles into my bones.

After cleaning the cross, I move back up the stairs to my bedroom. The manor is covered floor to ceiling in photos of the fraternity from the half-decade it’s been used for Greek housing. There are mementos of years past hanging on the walls: hockey sticks that won championships, a dollar bill with a lipstick kiss tacked on the wall, and signed records from bands that toured through town and partied with past students.

When my body hits my bed, my eyes stare at the ceiling fan as it completes its hundredth rotation. The night replays in my head. Toby was a decent dude, vibrant and full of life. I can’t think of any reason he would just collapse like that. Then to come up here and find that cross...

I shake my head, reaching into my nightstand and confirming that I have a bullet in the chamber of my Glock. I set the gun back in the drawer, my fingers lingering on it for a moment longer than necessary.

Best-case scenario, the blood was just a prank, and Toby did have a heart attack while receiving half-decent head.

Worst case? A war has started at Ashen Grove.