Page 19

twelve

Unknown number

You saw what happened to Gwen and you sat and watched. Be careful who you allow yourself to be associated with.

I read the text twice. There’s no name. No number. Just guilt sharpened into a warning. Was someone watching me? Watching as I let her be claimed by all those men?

Tears sting my eyes as I slump against my bed, the weight of my shame causing me to grip my stuffed rabbit tighter to my chest. Maybe I should have thrown myself between them, sacrificed myself to try to save her and the other woman.

After spending Wednesday not in class but stuck in the campus police station, talking with officers and Gwen’s parents, I’m ready to curl up under my blanket and pretend my roommate isn’t officially a missing person.

The title they gave her makes me shiver.

I’m too worried to cry, so I sit in my room, staring straight ahead as people rifle through it.

Mr. and Mrs. Newsome search Gwen’s stuff, trying to find any clues as to her whereabouts, while a detective assigned to the case shuffles her neat stacks of clothing.

Mrs. Newsome sobs. She appears panicked and a university representative tries to calm her down with unhelpful words.

Elina leans against the closet wall, eyeing my half of the room with judgmental scrutiny.

Amelia paces outside my door and occasionally pops in to be helpful, but she never saw Gwen on Massacre Monday. Mitch said he did, but then blurted out a crude remark about her “taking all the nasty Thetas into every hole she’s got and they made more.”

I’m hungry, tired, and overwhelmed with my classwork, especially Criminology, but feel even more guilty for even being stressed about something so trivial when my roommate could be hurt. There are too many people in my room, and I don’t know what to say anymore.

My introverted self wants to hide, but there’s nowhere to go.

Amelia tugs on my hand and leads me aside. “Get dressed. We’re going to the Salty Oyster for some drinks. You deserve a reprieve.”

Maybe alcohol and food are exactly what I need.

Gathering my things while trying to be polite, I grab the package of new lingerie someone sent me. The fact that pieces of my favorite underwear are missing, and then this showed up in my exact size , makes me grimace. But I need to get out of here.

I head to the floor’s shared bathrooms to change into one of the cheeky panties from the box, topped with an oversized band T-shirt cinched by a wide belt.

Thigh-high lacy black tights and calf boots cover my legs as big bangles click over my wrists.

After applying my makeup, I take a look at myself, deciding to go with a bold lip color for the evening.

When I slick on the red shade Scarlips , the taste is off, so I chuck the stick in the garbage. As I do, crusted lines catch my eye. They’re all over the cases. Hurriedly, I scan the rest of my lipsticks crowded in my cosmetics bag. Every single one appears to have the same white crud on them.

Ryan’s claiming .

With a tissue, I quickly clean my lips, then scrub them with a washcloth. Despite using a toothbrush after that, the flavor of him remains on my tongue long after. Instead of getting disgusted, I’m annoyed with myself for how intoxicating it tastes.

What is wrong with me?

Valencia comes with us in hopes Logan will be there. When I attempt to get a feel for who Amelia’s going for, she only lets her blue eyes sparkle and says, “I like older men.”

“Well, I heard that the elders wear robes when they defile you in the Cathedral, so you have that to fantasize about,” I say, and she laughs while Valencia makes mock gagging sounds. My outlook already feels brighter.

The Cajun-Indian fusion restaurant is located just off campus, and as I open the door for my friends, I balk at the number of students filling the place on a random Wednesday.

Looking closer, it appears all of Beta Kappa Eta is crowding the tables, possibly having a game night of bonding just after Rush.

“Where are we going to find a seat?” Amelia asks as we scan the crowd.

Mitch and Logan sit at a corner table with the president and vice president of Beta . Hand in the air, Mitch smiles and waves us over. The side along the wall holds a booth big enough for three, while the rest has chairs pulled up close to accommodate the group.

My dance partner stands to let me slide into the far side while Valencia hurriedly takes the spot on the end after Mitch gets in next to me. Logan sits in the corner in a painted wooden seat, seemingly uncomfortable, but still gives my cousin a shy grin.

Mitch points out the two officers of Beta .

“Pippi, this is Hunter Remington, our president, and Chase Warrick, our vice president. Hunter’s eyes are glued to Amelia’s tits as he holds out his hand to shake hers before striking up a conversation.

It’s almost impossible to hear over the loud yells, forks scraping against plates, and clinking of glassware.

Mitch takes a sip of his sangria and says, “You didn’t make it to lecture today. Professor Hall gave us a new reading assignment that’s not on the syllabus. I can email you the article, if you want.”

“Sure.” The space next to the wall seems tight and uncomfortable, and the last thing I want to discuss is Professor Hall’s class. “Can I have some of that?” I point to his drink, and he slides it over.

“Yeah, of course. Want me to get you one?”

Valencia interrupts loudly, “I’ll go with you and Logan to grab our drinks! Order me some crawfish tikka masala if they come by the table, Pippi.”

I give her a nod and relax after the three of them get out of their seats, but scramble to think of small-talk topics while glancing at the two men across from me.

Amelia doesn’t seem to mind the attention and pulls Hunter into another chat that I can’t hear.

Chase Warrick ignores me, looking around the bar for someone else.

Not even a minute passes before a big figure slides into the booth next to me with a beer. I look up to argue that’s not what I wanted to drink, and Ryan’s steely blue eyes smile at me.

I lose my breath as he continues moving into the seat, lifts me off it, and places me on his lap in a smooth motion, like he’s done it a thousand times. “Make room for the boys,” he says, gripping my waist with his arm and chugging a swig of his ale.

“What are you doing here?” I protest, but he sets his bottle down and lifts the cup of wine to my mouth, pressing his lips to my shoulder.

“Eating dinner with my girl.” He says it so loud, Hunter glances up with a terrified look and makes some excuse before he and Chase Warrick hurry to leave.

“What do you want, babe? Some gumbo with naan? Shrimp vindaloo?” Over my head, he yells to a younger looking guy with a backwards baseball hat who could be his twin.

“Hey! Grab us some food while you’re up there. Get everything.”

An extremely large blond man takes Hunter’s spot and another Ryan look-a-like sits in Chase’s seat. The blond immediately starts talking to Amelia like they know each other already as the man with sharp features and an angry face glares across the crowd, seemingly looking for a person to kill.

I squirm on Ryan, trying to slide off, but he holds me firmly against his chest. As he leans his head to rest on my shoulder, the stubble of his jaw tickles my face.

His voice lowers to a whisper. “Either you sit on my lap, or you sit on the seat next to me and give me a blowjob for everyone to see.”

My eyes widen, cheeks immediately flushing hot. “I’ll do neither.”

“You’ll do both if you don’t behave.”

Valencia, Logan, and Mitch return with a tray of drinks, but Mitch freezes at the end of the table as Valencia slides in and Logan sits next to her, striking up a conversation with the sullen man sitting across from him.

“Where did…” Mitch glares at Ryan, who finishes his beer, leans over, and sets the empty bottle on Mitch’s tray, grabs the glasses from it, and distributes them around to everyone sitting down.

“Hey, do us a solid and grab some more beers, little boy,” Ryan says to him, and the two hold each other’s gazes, but the man who looks just like Ryan tilts his head only slightly to enter Mitch’s field of vision. Mitch glances at him and takes two steps back.

“Sure. I, uh, can do that,” he says through a tight jaw, then hurries through the crowd.

What in the gang shit is this?

Logan pipes up and tells the guy across from him, “Aiden, don’t. He’s chill.”

Aiden snorts and murmurs, “Chilled in my freezer with his decapitated head on ice.”

Ryan’s chest vibrates as he joins in with a laugh, but there’s no levity behind it.

“I noticed you deleted our pictures from Pixtagram. But it’s okay, I started us a couple’s account. And a backup, if you block that one, too… Also made a few on other platforms.”

My stomach flips. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.” His flat tone sends a shiver through my body. I believe he means it.

His palm slides from the table to my knee, and I quickly grab a breath as a shock of tingles surges up my spine.

Amelia turns to me and asks, “Pippi, do you know Landon Turner and Aiden Cardell?”

“N—” I begin to answer, but Ryan’s hand slips up my thigh and pulls it over his until I’m spread across his legs. “No.” I swallow and ignore how hard my heart is beating. Ryan’s brother’s eyes scan me, but it’s more as if he’s taking inventory than seeing me as a person. He’s terrifying.

Landon’s expression is like he found out a secret as he grants me a smirk. “Hey, Pippi. Nice to meet you, finally. Seen your pictures everywhere .”

“Oh, um…” I’m not quite sure what he means by that, and it makes me uneasy, but my question halts when Ryan’s fingers slide under my panties and push them aside.

“Love this outfit, by the way,” he says. When he lifts me up to shift me to a more comfortable position, I get stabbed in the back by his stiff erection.

“I didn’t wear it for you.” Leaning to the side, I greet his alluring eyes with a glare. “You know, your girlfriend is my president, and it makes it pretty awkward to do this…inane tradition. I don’t like it.”

He chuckles and taps the end of my nose with his lips. “You seem jealous.”

My jaw drops. “I’m not— What the…”

The pad of his large finger pulses on my soaked clit as his middle one slides down my pussy to my entrance, threatening to intrude. “Your face is red. Are you sick? Need something to cool you off? Where’s your little boy with the drinks?”

I scan the restaurant, looking for him, just as Mitch leans around a crowd of Beta guys and narrows his eyes at me and Ryan in the corner.

Ryan’s thick digit delves inside of me as his first finger tickles my sensitive spot in a series of circles that blur my vision with bliss. My back stiffens as I press against his broad chest, the warmth from our bodies spreading like fire over my skin. “You belong to me now.”

“I don’t belong to any-any-anyone.” It should come out firm and strong, but he fucks me harder, then adds both as I writhe on his lap. “Fuck.” Nipples come to a point under my thin T-shirt, and resent the fact that I wish I had Ryan’s plush lips over them.

Pressing his mouth to my earlobe, his deep voice makes my pussy quiver around his intruding digits. “Be quiet and act normal, or your boy will see you over here getting off.”

Does he really think Mitch and I are together? If so, I’ll pretend. He’s with Elina, so I may as well have a boyfriend, too. We can both play that game.

“He’ll get pissed off. Doesn’t matter if you think you can toy with me this month.”

His thumb joins in on the fun as his fingers plunge in and out of me rapidly.

I’ve made a puddle all over his jeans and worry the sloshing sound between my legs is too loud.

Biting my tongue, I hold back a whimper of pleasure, especially when Ryan kisses my neck briefly, only to whisper, “You better put him on notice. He can’t give you what you need. ”

Heaving out a breath, I ask, “And what is it I need ?”

“To come hard for me. You want that, pink cheeks? To make a mess on me right here in front of him? Show him who owns this body?”

As if suddenly that’s exactly all I’ve ever wanted, I plant my face in Ryan’s neck and nod slightly. His forest and adventure scent overwhelms me until it spurs me into an impending orgasm. “Yes.”

Everything stops. His fingers halt, his arms loosen, and he sits up. I lift my head to look at him, and he blinks a few times, then says, “Then say you’re mine.”

Glaring at him, fury of unresolved need ignites deep in my core. “You say you’re mine. You’re the one with a girlfriend.”

His eyes bounce over to Mitch, who’s walking back to the table with another tray. “Are you mine?”

My pulse pounds viciously, and I whimper, scooting my hips toward his fingers, chasing the high he almost gave me. “No.” With a shrug, he edges a finger out, but I grasp his wrist to stop him. “Fine. Yes. Fine. I’m yours.” For right now, while you make me come .

But when he plunges deep inside of me, his thumb resumes the rhythm that drives me into a frenzy, and I lose it. I feel like I want to be his if he’ll just make my body hum this way. Huffing in his intoxicating scent. Feeling his blue eyes watch me so intensely, demanding I let go just for him.

“Good girl. Come for me, my partner-in-crime. Come for me as you look at him and show him whose girl you are.”

Maintaining my narrowed gaze on Mitch’s face, I do. A rush of ecstasy hits me like a popped bottle of champagne, while sparkling waves of pleasure tighten all my inner muscles as I lean against the man whose fingers are buried inside my pussy. Silent screams of bliss make my mouth drop into an ‘O’…

And Mitch watches.

Ryan’s face nuzzles my neck as he keeps whispering, “Such a good slut for me. Fuck . You’re so well behaved.”

As Mitch sets down the tray, he doesn’t even wait, but turns and heads out of the restaurant in a hurry.

My body flushes as I glance around the table, everyone obviously aware of what happened.

Amelia meets my face with a grin, like she’s in on the secret, while Valencia’s jaw unhinges and hits her chest.

With a sick feeling of humiliation slithering through me, I weasel out from Ryan’s hold and force Valencia and Logan to get up so I can slide out. On one look back, Ryan’s got his fingers in his mouth, licking them clean, his eyes filled with mirth as he watches me leave.

I shove through the students, throw open the door, and sprint toward home, hoping that no one in my family finds out what I just did in the corner of a restaurant for everyone to see.