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four

“Why are you wet?”

“I took a shower.”

“In the fucking river? You stink like sewage from East Side.”

“You a connoisseur of waste smells now?”

Landon rolls his blue eyes and shoves in another handful of gummy bears. “Nah, just figured you were cleaning up after fucking Elina.”

That one almost makes me laugh, thinking about how uptight she pretends to be, but everyone knows she loves to roll in the dirt. Though I did take another dip in the river today, I can’t tell Landon Turner I did it while thinking of the pink-cheeked girl with fire blazing behind her big eyes.

That memory is mine alone.

She looked so fucking sad that I had to cheer her up.

When her plush lips touched my dick, I figured out quickly she’s not only sullen, but innocent.

That made the beast inside of me take over.

Carnal instinct living deep in my DNA roared to life until it became a need to be her first. Savage thoughts plagued my mind.

Ones of wanting to give her the experience that she was obviously dripping with desperation for. Well, she got it.

All eight and three-quarters inches.

“You want some of these, or should I take them?”

I can barely contain my groan of exasperation. “Your fingerprints are all over the bag. Put them in your fucking pocket.”

He chokes on a bite. “They are not. Look.” When he holds up a hand, he shows off a clear vinyl glove by wiggling all his fingers. Hard to see in the dim light coming from the bathroom.

“Fine. Good job for remembering how not to be an idiot,” I say with a shake of my head.

His wide mouth grins as he chews the rest of the bears while I check my watch. So fucking bored.

My fingers itch to grab my new phone that I had to pick up today because someone tossed my old one in the river.

It’s become a habit, I know, but I slide it out of my pants, tap on the screen, and search for the video of pink cheeks from the cloud backup.

Then I remember where I am, who I’m with.

With a huff, I close out the programs and shove the device into my back pocket.

“New toy?” Lan finally finishes his bite, and his eyes glaze over with envy.

“Yep.” Irritated and hoping to distract him off the topic, I bend to study some ugly sculpture in the corner of the bedroom.

It’s supposed to be one of the gods, I think.

Perhaps Bonakanos himself, but it’s a terrible interpretation.

Not that I’d know. I’m no art critic, but it looks like a mess to my untrained eyes.

Probably goes for millions on some obscure auction, knowing how rich and tasteless these assholes are.

“I’ve been thinking about getting one of those.”

When I glance up, confused why Lan would want a shitty statue, he points toward my phone in my jeans.

“Ah, I’m sure you have.” Whatever I’ve gotten in life, Landon had to have. It’s bad enough my younger brothers copy me, but having their best friend do so is annoying.

At twenty-four, I’m too old for this shit.

The overly ornate dresser shifts as I lean against it and heave a sigh while scratching the back of my neck. “It should be time.”

Landon checks the clock next to the bed and shakes his head. “Two minutes.”

“Let’s just go now.”

His eyes widen so much that I see the whites even in the dark. With a hushed whisper, he pleads, “Dude…we can’t .”

Under my breath, I grumble dissent while pacing the thick carpet in a worn pattern.

If only I hadn’t gotten injured freshman year, I’d have graduated by now instead of being in fifth year.

But then, I would have graduated by now and been forced to do what I’ve been assigned to do: run Cardell Enterprises, marry some pristine appointed I don’t want, and live my father’s life.

An invisible noose tightens around my throat at the thought.

“It’s time,” Lan says in a voice like a beautiful angel, and I can breathe easy again.

From my hip holster, I slide out the custom handle and screw on the silencer, then step up to the king-sized bed. I take one side and Lan the other. We nod at each other, place the barrels between the couple’s eyes, and shoot.

Neither of the bodies move much. We dosed them with enough drugs so they wouldn’t wake up, but the assignment was bullets to the brain. We don’t ask questions about who these people are, nor do I really want to know.

As he slides his gun back into his holster, Lan says, “I think they had some jellybeans downstairs, too.”

The night is crisp, with the air turning to fall as it whips against my skin. We ride side by side to the Viper Venom’s hangout at Warehouse 9, my Ducati Lamborghini purring beneath my balls. As we approach the rendezvous point, the Bluetooth in my helmet picks up my brother’s microphone.

“Everything go okay?” Aiden asks.

“Yeah, other than sugar freak here trying to raid their pantry.”

Lan can’t let me have one moment of peace after completing another grunt task for the organization before saying something asinine.

My younger brother’s chilled silence is enough to have Lan protesting and making excuses, while I remind him that hockey practice will be a bitch if he doesn’t stop eating crap like he has all summer.

By the time we pull up to my brother’s blacked-out BMW motorcycle, Aiden’s ready to take off back to Theta Rho Zeta’s manor, the place that had been my home for the last four years until I finally got my own apartment.

He took over the office of presidency from me this year, and once Henry is a senior, he’ll be one, too.

It’s all an incestuous pool of nepotism at Northview University.

Behind his mirrored visor, Aiden’s expression is unreadable, but I don’t need to see it to know what he’s thinking.

He’s displeased that neither Lan nor I take these tasks as seriously as he does.

I thought I’d be done with them by now, but since I’m still enrolled for a fifth year, it comes with being a brother of Theta.

“I was never here. Didn’t hear anything about this.

And I couldn’t have stopped you,” he says while toeing his kickstand back in place.

Presidents are untouchable. And by that, I mean, they’re not associated with any of the clandestine activities.

But they are in charge of making sure things go smoothly.

With a jolt, Aiden speeds off, blowing up some dust with his back tire. Before he gets too far away, he reminds me, “Dad said you have to come to Sunday dinner tomorrow. You’ve missed the last three, Ryan.”

My jaw clenches. Yes, missing those meals was very much on purpose.

Lan takes off his helmet and shakes out his blond mop of sweaty hair. “Want to head to Hype House tonight?”

At the mention of the club, my shoulders tense, knowing all the sorority girls will be back from summer break. There’s no way I want to run into Elina, and she would definitely go, hoping to find me. I flip the visor down on my helmet. “Nope. I’m heading home.”

“Tell Elina I said hi!” Lan smirks and slides off his bike to talk to the rest of the Vipers, who are congregated around my baby brother Henry’s latest Maserati purchase.

Life is short. That’s my motto. After my concussion during hockey freshman year, everything changed for me. Not only did it shorten my season, but it meant I couldn’t finish my classes because of the headaches, constant nausea, and dizzy spells I’d get trying to read a page.

When I rammed my head into the opposing forward, I knew exactly what would happen. I’d hit him at such an angle to really fuck myself up. Deep inside, I hold the secret that I’d wished the collision would have snapped my neck in two and ended things.

At the time, I’d been so filled with hope about my future, hockey, girls, and receiving the bid to join Theta that I didn’t have any worries. Not until my dad told me what my life would be like from then on.

Determined. Set. Boring.

A plan that didn’t take into account anything I would want for myself.

I’m not allowed to have desires, goals, or a choice in life partner. Those who don’t follow orders have a tendency toward receiving a bullet between their eyes. A “suicide” with two shots to the back of their skulls. An “accident” on their motorcycles while intoxicated.

No one seems to mind because if you obey, you’re rewarded with a path in life that most people would kill for without remorse.

Fame, fortune, and a future filled with young sluts ready to service you, no matter who you’re appointed to marry.

In fact, cheating and sharing partners with others in society are expected. Though my father never stood for that.

This is the way things go.

When I learned of it, the crushing weight of becoming a servant for some made-up god hit me so hard, I questioned my will to live.

The details of the duty are kept a tidy secret unless you’re a trustee.

Or a dean. Or higher. It’s a need-to-know basis.

Until then, you follow the orders written in blood.

Once I graduate and obey my assignment to be CEO of Cardell Enterprises, I’ll be appointed to the Board and privy to handing out tasks for the younger members of Theta Rho Zeta . It’s not a role I wish to fulfill.

I’ve learned more than my brothers because of my rank in the family, though I suspect Aiden has delved into things a little too deeply on his own.

The only way I thought I could avoid my prescribed future would be to wreck it. If I got injured badly enough, then I could delay the inevitable for a while, or maybe even forever.

Graduation is approaching at the end of this year, and every day that passes, the weight of my impending responsibilities crushes me until it hurts to breathe.

What I’d never tell anyone is why I was on that cliff last night.

I’ve done that jump a hundred times, but I do it because I know that if I head slightly to the side, I could splat on a rock overhang that juts out a few inches too far. Every time I stand at the top of the North River waterfall, I stare at the edge and wonder…

Will tonight be the night I veer to the left?

Pink cheeks probably doesn’t know how much she affected me. My little partner-in-crime became a piece of me, searing those ire-filled irises under my skin. Instead of veering off the direct path, I back flipped to live another day.

When I get inside my apartment across from campus, I toss my keys in the metal bowl by the front door and savor a deep inhale.

It smells like mine . Every bit of art, furniture, lighting, and design is something I chose.

Is it stark, dark, and modern? Sure, but I wanted it that way.

This industrial exposed brick studio is home, at least until I can figure out how to escape the destiny laid before me.

A different tension strains my muscles, and I know the perfect way to get rid of it.

My phone burns in my back pocket, so I place my helmet in the closet, then shed my T-shirt.

With a leaping flop onto my back, I land on the soft rust-colored corduroy comforter, my head on the black-cased pillow, and the screen ready right in front of my face.

Have I watched this twenty, okay, fifty times? Yeah. Is my dick raw? Yes.

But having pink cheeks so close is like carrying around my will to live. Only problem is…I want more .

Though as I unzip, pull out, and grip the base of my cock, it’s enough. It has to be. I don’t know her or anything about her. Maybe that’s a good thing. That way, I can pretend she’s anyone. For now.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I try to remember exactly how her mouth felt surrounding me and match the rhythm she took.

Almost have the strokes of her tongue memorized.

When she hits me with her teeth, I squeeze tighter and whimper, my hips jutting up in the air.

As her plump lips curl around the head, so do my thumb and forefinger.

I can’t help but chuckle every time she blows on me, her gorgeous innocent face filled with embarrassment, causing those fawny cheeks to flame red. Her upturned nose scrunches. The freckles dusting it bounce while her light brown eyes glisten with fear, observing my reaction.

Quickly recovering, her determination returns enough to set her back to work.

Fuck, she’s so bad at it. But I just need more time to train her.

I was so mesmerized she was actually doing it, that some random girl was taking my mind off the events of my night.

I gazed at the moon, wondering if that was my new fate.

As I approach climax in time with the video, the words she speaks sincerely make me come so fucking hard again.

It will get better .

And maybe it will…with her.