Page 207 of Filthy Elites

Cold reality washes over me, turning my limbs numb. I have no one. Nothing. Not Grayson. Not the backing of the council. Not even the thin cords that bound me to Miller, and later, Knox. I did all of this, went through the pain and assault and humiliation just to end up back in this terrible place again.

“Fine,” I say, “you’re right. I’m pathetic. Give me the blade.”

Royer smirks and jerks his head at the others. “I need a minute with Reagan alone,” he says. “Head out and I’ll catch up in a minute.”

Andrea’s eyes narrow at her boyfriend’s request, but Rat nudges her along. Miller gives me one last look, his face shrouded in the shadows. I turn my head away. When they’re gone, Royer stands before me and pulls a knife out of his pocket.

He reaches for me, running his fingers down my cheek. “It didn’t have to be this way, you know that, right? You should have stayed in your place.” His touch moves to my neck. “I would’ve let it go if you hadn’t sucked off my best friend while I was in the next room.”

“That’s what made you do this?”

“Until that moment, I was undecided,” he admits. “I liked you more than I wanted to admit. I liked fucking your tight little pussy and playing on your father’s fancy yacht.” The thumbs my bottom lip. “But you let him in, you let him do something you’d never offered me, and that was unacceptable.” His hand lowers to my shoulder. “Before we’re finished, you’re going to give me exactly what you gave him.”

He shoves me to the ground, hard, my knees crashing into the rock. Through the numbness, the strangest thing is that I’m not even surprised. Of course, Royer would turn all of this into being about himself, into being about his cock. He’s the most predictable, petty, entitled asshole I’ve ever had the misfortune to be involved with—and that includes Miller Hansen.

The worst realization is that I’ve done this to myself.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Miller

“What’s he doing back there?” Andrea asks, trying to peer behind Knox’s large frame as Rat leads us down the gravel road to the van. There’s a service road up to the top of the mountain. After we dropped Reagan off at the bottom we drove up and waited for her to arrive.

“Getting his final payback,” Rat says, chuckling darkly. “Shouldn’t take too long.”

If Andrea thinks Royer is loyal to her, faithful, she’s more of a dumb sorority girl than I realized, and if I wasn’t focused on the same thing, I’d mock the hell out of her for it. But I am focused on it—on whatever it is that Royer wants to remain private between him and Reagan.

That and the overall feeling I have about seeing her like that, setting her up and leaving her… knowing what she’s going to do.

Fuck. When did this get so complicated?

I check my phone, looking at the time, the blue light casting a glow over the dark trail.

“It’s crazy, you know,” Knox says, voice low behind me.

“What’s crazy?”

“That she made it all the way up there, drunk in the dark, bleeding.” I step over a log crossing the trail and he does the same. “Like, she survived the gauntlet.”

“Yeah, well…”

He grabs the back of my jacket and pulls me to a stop. “Well, what?”

I shrug. “She’s pretty fucking badass.”

He nods. Andrea and Rat’s footsteps getting farther away. “She is badass. And hot.”

“Very hot,” I agree. All of this started out as a game, another classic prank, but somewhere along the way I came to like Reagan. Really like her. As Knox said, she’s hot, but she’s also brave and funny and fucking determined. Even looking like a skinny, ratty boy, she made my dick hard. And now…

I check my phone again. Wincing when I see no notifications.

“What?” Knox asks, noticing me shifting on my feet.

“Fuck it.” I push past him, picking up my pace to a jog. I have nothing but my phone flashlight to see the way, but the gravel road is wider and less bumpy than the trail. I hear footsteps behind me, but don’t look back. Knox’s long legs and physical condition mean he can catch up to me easily. I push myself as hard as possible, not stopping until I reach the clearing. In the flickering firelight, I see Reagan on her knees, dirty and tired. Royer stands over her, hand shoved down his pants. There’s no doubt where this is going, and fuck no, is anyone putting their cock near my girl without my permission.

She’smine.

Using every ounce of jealousy, rage and adrenaline, I charge at Royer. He sees me one second before I pounce on him, but it’s not enough time for him to recover—to get his fucking hand out of his pants. We land hard, rolling around the hard rock.

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