Page 17 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares (The Society #1)

Sometimes I wished I had an enhancement like Levi.

While his didn’t work on my father, my father’s also didn’t work on Levi.

The mind ones were weird that way. They seemed to cancel each other out.

That didn’t mean someone couldn’t manipulate Levi by other means such as being forced to sit in a chair while waiting for a reprimand.

“You took your sweet time,” Levi sang at my father. “You got a girl in there or something?”

I wasn’t the only one who rolled my eyes. Slater did too. He was also a lot more annoyed than Levi.

“We’ve been here for fifteen minutes. If you would’ve looked out here, you would’ve seen that.”

That statement was ironic, considering he was so against me testing my father.

One lifted brow from my father was all it took to wipe the sneer off Slater’s face. After which his eyes fell onto me. “Issac.”

“Father.”

“I see you took your time.”

“I did.” I crossed my arms and stared back at him. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all.”

That sounded suspicious. Since when was being late not a problem?

I once had to stand in the corner for two hours because I was two minutes late.

It didn’t make me want to be any more punctual, especially when it came to my father.

But no snide comment or argument about it was strange. He was up to something.

“Ravi’s not here yet,” Levi blurted out.

If it wouldn’t break the silent stare down I was having with my father, I would drop my face in my palm. He could plainly see that Ravi wasn’t here.

Surprisingly, my father answered him. “Unlike you three, Ravi was here on time.”

He leaned to the side so I could see into the office. Sure enough, there sat Ravi, with a look on his face that I didn’t like.

“You could’ve said something,” Slater grumbled, causing my father to shift his stare his way.

“Waste my time and I’ll waste yours.”

Slater rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut.

After a few minutes of silence, my father turned and walked back into the office while waving for us to follow.

I assumed he meant all three of us, but when Levi and Slater stood up, he looked back at them and said, “You two can go.”

We all shared a look before I clarified, “Just them?”

“This doesn’t concern them,” was my father’s answer, meaning one thing.

“So, she’s mine or Ravi’s?”

“Yes. Why?” I felt his eyes boring into me before he turned around. “Are you still planning on defiling someone’s bride? Because I know my son wouldn’t go against the Society doctrine.”

The way he said my son made me grit my teeth.

“Of course not,” I ground out while thinking about lighting his tailored Armani suit on fire.

He narrowed his glare on me, searching for signs of deception that I learned to hide from him long ago.

Consequences in my house went far beyond groundings and spankings. The missing pinky toe on my left foot was a testament to that. And what infraction did I commit? I cried when I stubbed my toe. That was the great Andrew Kratz’s way of parenting.

“That’s what I thought,” my father said, making me hate the way my eyes shone with the same dark blue hue as his.

I also hated how the cowlick in his sandy hair curled to the left like mine, or the way the muscle in our jaws tensed when we were angry, and how sometimes, when I looked in the mirror, I saw more of him than my mother. But mostly, I hated how something deep inside me craved his respect.

We stood there having a father/son stare down for a few minutes before he tore his eyes off me to look at Slater and Levi. “Why are you still here?”

Not having his instructions immediately followed annoyed my father. Having my question ignored annoyed me.

“Is she mine or Ravi’s?” I repeated.

“She’s yours, Issac.” But it wasn’t my father who spoke.

My glare snapped over to Ravi. “She’s mine?”

“Yes,” Ravi nodded.

Something about the way he casually sat there didn’t sit right with me. It was almost as if this wasn’t new information to him.

Son of a bitch. “How long have you known?”

“I talked to him last night.” My father answered. “Ravi is your second.”

Motherfucker!

“What was all that ‘it might not be what we think’ bullshit?” I should’ve known. He was way too calm when he mentioned Georgia was in Craven House.

“What can I say?” Ravi lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “I’m a good actor.”

Good actor, my ass. That shit had nothing to do with acting. Bastard was feeling me out, seeing how I would react. It had been less than twenty-four hours, and the motherfucker was already two steps ahead of me.

“Enjoy it while you can,” I hissed at Ravi. “You won’t get one over on me again.”

He smirked back at me. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Of course, they would pick Ravi to be my second. Levi and Slater wouldn’t stand a chance against me, but Ravi knew precisely how to get under my skin, and he was almost as horny as Levi. Meaning he was going to work hard as hell to ensure the claiming was done as quickly as possible.

“I told you she wasn’t mine,” Levi said to Slater.

My father looked their way. “Leave!”

That was all they needed to hear. They headed out, but not before Levi slapped me on the back, gave me a smile, and said, “Good luck.”

Fucking prick.

Once they were gone and we were alone, my father closed the door and walked over to sit behind the desk. A part of me wanted to ask what he did with the dean—who was nowhere to be seen—but I had other things on my mind.

“What if I don’t want her?”

My father sat down and leaned back, making the leather chair creak. “Are you rejecting your bride?”

“What if I am?” I asked while folding my arms over my chest.

My father cocked a brow. “Then you will find out what happened to Matteo.”

I stared at my father while contemplating my options. Whatever happened to Matteo and Aiden couldn’t have been good. I hadn’t heard a peep from either of them in two years. They were probably dead. Denying my bride wasn’t worth my life.

“No.” How bad could it be? Georgia Pyne was amusing if nothing else, and at least I wanted to fuck her. That was more than some grooms got. “I’m not rejecting her.”

But I would take my sweet ass time claiming her.

It was my way of not only punishing Ravi—fucking prick—but my father as well.

The Society may have given me a bride, but that didn’t mean I would take her right away.

Maybe I’d luck out and she’d meet with some horrific accident—like getting pushed in traffic—and I’d be off the hook.

“Alright,” My father nodded at the chair beside Ravi. “Have a seat and we’ll discuss your stipulations…”

“I know the stipulations.” No fucking anyone else until I claimed her, blah, blah, blah.

“Oh no, son, you have added stipulations.”

What? “Why?”

“Because failure is not an option when it comes to this girl.”

“This girl?” That was specifically cryptic.

“Yes, this girl.” My father sat forward, folded his hands on the desk, and locked his stern stare on mine.

“You will claim Georgia Pyne, Issac. There is no ifs, ands, or buts. You will bend her, you will break her, you will bind her, and you will breed her. And you’ll do it in ninety days. Do you understand?”

I understood that there was something he wasn’t telling me. There had never been a time stipulation before. Don’t get me wrong, if it a groom hadn’t done anything in months, The Society saw it as a rejection. But this was different. There was a sense of urgency in my father’s tone.

“Why the time line?”

“Because you’re stubborn, Issac.”

No, this had nothing to do with me. It was all about her. “What’s her Salem tie?”

There were certain bloodlines more prized than others. Abernathy, Copperfield, and Ayer were the most sought-after and rarest. No one had found an Ayer girl in almost a century.

“She has no ties to Salem.”

“What?” What did he mean she had no ties to Salem? “Why is she a bride?”

That was a requirement for all the brides.

My father tipped his head and explained, “Her bloodline has other ties.”

That told me nothing. “What kind of ties?”

“You’ll know when you need to.”

Uh-huh . “I bet Ravi knows, though, doesn’t he?”

The look I got in response was all the answer I needed. My father was doing a good job of stacking the deck against me. I’d give him that.

“Now,” my father rolled his shoulders back and straightened up. “Not only will you abstain from other women, you will also abstain from masturbation.”

He was fucking kidding, right? “I can’t jerk off?”

What kind of asinine rule was that?

“I know you, son. You’ll spend the next six months jerking off and avoiding her out of pure spite. Therefore, if anyone touches your dick other than her, you will deal with severe consequences.”

Son of a…

“Anything else?” I hissed.

“Yes, Ravi will be moving in with you.”

“I don’t need a fucking roommate.” Been there, done that.

“I didn’t ask what you needed.”

So, not only could I not fuck anyone else, but I couldn’t even fuck myself.

I bet Ravi didn’t have the same added stipulation, and I had to room with the asshole.

These stipulations were bullshit. I’d like nothing more than to punch my father in the face, but I bit my tongue.

No one denied Andrew Kratz, including his son.

“Don’t worry, Issac,” Ravi piped up. “I’ll make sure it happens quickly.”

He could try. “I fucking hate you right now.”

“Oh,” a smirk spread across his face. “You haven’t even begun to hate me.”

Motherfucker was going to make this shit hurt. I knew that look in his eye all too well. Usually, I was helping him do whatever sadistic shit he had planned. Now, I was the target. If he wanted to play this game with me, fine. I didn’t break. Ever.

“Ninety days, Issac,” my father reminded me.

“Why do you want this done so fast?”

Don’t get me wrong, there were always limitations to the claiming, but as long as things were progressing, it didn’t matter how long it took. Levi’s dad took a year and a half to claim his bride.

“Because I do.”

That was my father’s typical ‘Do what I say’ response. I may not be close with my remaining parent, but I did know one thing about him. He never did anything without a reason.

I sat back and eyed him. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll drag this shit out.”

My father’s jaw ticked while Ravi snickered. “You can try.”

I shot him a dirty look. “You won’t win this.”

“I’m already winning.”

Asshole.

“Fuck you.” I looked over at my father. “And fuck you too.”

Fuck them both.

“I knew you’d say something like that,” my father said. “Which is why I’ll be sticking around to keep an eye on you.”

What did he mean by sticking around?

As if he could hear the thought in my head, my father smiled. “Do you like my new office?”

“You’re taking over for the dean?” I thought Dean Richards’ absence was due to what happened last night. I should’ve known better.

“I am.”

Perfect. Not only did I have Ravi to contend with, but my father would be breathing down my neck.

“Do we understand each other, son?”

“Perfectly,” I ground out through gritted teeth.

It wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter. Apparently, I had less of a choice than the other grooms before me. At least there was one thing to look forward to.

“Is there anything I can’t do to her?” If I had to suffer, then so would Georgia.

My father gave me a dismissive wave. “Do whatever you want.”

“Anything I want?” I clarified.

“Anything you want,” he confirmed. “Aside from extreme mutilation and murder, of course.”

“Can I fuck her?”

“You know the rules, Issac. You can’t fuck her until you break her.”

It was worth a shot.

“I’ll hurt her,” I warned him.

“I don’t care. Hurt Georgia all you want. Just make sure she lives and is healthy enough to give birth.”

Alright, I could work with that. It might even be fun.

“Do I have to knock her up in ninety days, too?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But I would advise it.”

When my father said he advised something, it wasn’t a suggestion. Not that I cared. If I didn’t have to do it, I wouldn’t.

My father lifted his chin and gave me a serious stare. “When this thing is over, I want that girl under your complete and utter control. When you say jump, she had better ask how high. Understand?”

The look on his face led me to ask myself one question.

Who the fuck was Georgia Pyne?