Page 12 of Hush, Hush

“If you say so,” Tim says. He takes one look at me and walks away, moving beyond the swinging counter door where he starts up an easy conversation with the other worker. Both of them peer at me discreetly, so I must be the topic of discussion.

I finish my cappuccino hurriedly. I don’t want to ask Tim for a to-go cup, but I also don’t like being on display for people.

Just as soon as I’ve finished the last swallow, my phone vibrates. I take it out and stiffen when I realize it’s a text from an unknown number. That, in and of itself, never used to get me, but it’s also how the Knights of Arcadia choose to communicate. Our next meeting to discuss upcoming events isn’t supposed to be until Wednesday, but I’m being summoned now.

Despite what Tim said, I take a ten out of my wallet and throw it on the table before I make my way out of the café. He’s not looking when I leave, so I don’t bother with a goodbye.

Following the stone pathway to the center of campus, I then branch out to one of the most remote locations. Amidst a torrent of trees, a big, beautiful old building stands, maybe the most ornate at Carnegie. Which makes sense if you think about it. The Knights of Arcadia came before Carnegie. They’re the reason the university even exists. They built this building promptly before erecting the others. Rumor has it that there’s a myriad of tunnels underneath this building that connects to all the others on campus, and even some that lead into the surrounding forest.

As I approach the building, I receive another text. Pulling out my phone quickly, I realize it’s a message from Keegan. I almost put my phone away again, but the preview of the picture he’s sent me spurs my curiosity. I bring it up to fill the entire screen and stop in my tracks. He’s sent a picture of me shaking Tim’s hand at the café. When the phone buzzes in my hand again, another text from him comes in.Don’t test me, Delilah.

Don’t test him? Is he serious?I furiously type out a text.Are you stalking me now??After I hit Send, I shove my phone back in my pocket. What? Am I going to have to deal with this for the rest of my life?

Someone like Tim is sounding like the better option at the moment.

Instead of the building entrance being on the side that faces campus, it’s actually on the complete opposite side where its only neighbors are trees. Peering around, I make sure no one is paying attention before I skate around the side of the building. I trail my fingers along the rough stone before arriving at the lion’s head. A quick turn later, and a stone door releases, leaving just the barest of gaps. I press on the wall, grunting a little with the exertion, until the door swings freely. Once on the other side, I move it back into place where it’s practically seamless. No one would know there was a door there if they weren’t actively looking for it.

My stomach tumbles over itself when I’m met with a silent interior. Unlike the dorms where modernism has taken over, the Knights of Arcadia headquarters has kept its old-world charm. The walls are all rock. The floors have been refurbished, but gigantic, iron chandeliers along with ornate sconces still light the interior. The foyer reveals several tunnels that lead to different rooms. When I first became a fledgling Knight, overcoming all their obstacles, they gave us a tour that concluded in the basement where there are legit jail cells surrounding a giant pit in the middle of the space.

I take the tunnel to the left, moving toward the meeting room. I don’t know who’s called to meet me today or why. The hairs on my arms rise, goosebumps spreading toward my scalp. There are always elders around, lurking inside. We have some of the most prominent citizens of the United States in our ranks, so you never know who you’re going to see. Except today, apparently. The building is quiet, as if it’s holding its breath. The creep factor has increased one hundred percent. I’ve never been in it without other Knights around. The halls narrow. My deadening footsteps echo like a death knell.

Straightening my shoulders, I forge ahead. There’s no one in the first meeting room. The second, though, is another story. I stick my head inside and freeze when I spot Keegan sitting in one of the fancy black leather office chairs. “Hey,” I grind out, barging in. I’m about to tell him off for spying on me with Tim when movement at the head of the table grabs my attention. I stop where I am, shifting gears as Mr. Reginald Wright, one of the Knights on the board, sits.

Forcing a smile, I stare at the two of them. It’s obvious Keegan is the reason why I’m being called in, and I have to drop the belief that this could just be a check-in to see how I’m doing. If Keegan is here, it isn’t for anything good, especially since he’s making me out to be his number one enemy lately. “It’s nice to see you, Sir Reginald,” I say, bowing.

“Miss Delilah, please have a seat.” He gestures toward the leather chair opposite Keegan, and my heart skips a beat, wondering if my intended has now complained to the Knights that I’m not having sex with him. Why would they care though? No, that can’t be it, but there are other ways that Keegan could get back at me.

With as steady feet as possible, I take my place at the table. Leaning forward, I place my forearms on the polished cherry table in front of me, facing down my tormentor.

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” Sir Wright greets. “As you know, when one Knight—whether fledgling or not—makes a complaint against another, we believe in complete honesty.”

I glare at Keegan, wondering what the hell he’s doing. It was bad enough that I had to fight harder than any of the guys to be allowed in this space, now he’s going to make it worse for me? “Yes, I’m aware,” I say icily, hoping to strike Keegan Forbes down with my gaze. Right now, I can’t find any remnants of the boy who saved me. The guy sitting across from me right now is a self-satisfied douche.

“Fledgling Forbes has expressed his concerns about your ability to fit in with the rest of the Knighthood.” The elder gentleman, sporting salt and pepper hair, only takes a slight breath before forging on. “We knew there would be some getting used to with the first female amongst our midst, but you stated plainly that there wouldn’t be any issues.”

I remember that day, and he’s right, I did state it plainly. I have—and had—no intention of anyone getting in my way of becoming a full-fledged Knight, even if I was the only one singled out with an extra interrogation to make sure I really was strong enough to be a Knight despite how I competed during the trials. “I did, Sir,” I agree, lifting my chin and staring Keegan down.

He makes a low humming sound. “Why, then, do we find ourselves in this predicament with Keegan Forbes? Certainly, his father and yours have been friends for many years, so he is the last Knight I expected to make such a complaint against you.”

He’s right. He certainly should be the last. Keegan should be my everything and not the reason I’m now being spoken down to with such disdain with the accusation of falling back on my word. He’s placed me into an impossible position. I doubt if I were to counter his claims that it would change Sir Reginald’s feelings on the matter.

My gender has muted me. I don’t have the liberty of speaking up and being heard, like Keegan has. I don’t have the ability to lobby against Keegan’s word because I’ll be seen as difficult and not a team-player.

It’s a sad realization to come to, only cemented when I glance at Sir Reginald who lifts his brows, waiting for me to speak.

Nausea and acid flip over in my stomach. I’ve spent my life trying to make sure I don’t ever feel this way. I’ve worked my ass off to be the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the everything anyone would wish me to be. Except now, I’m thrown back in my “place.”

It doesn’t matter who you are, you can still get stuck. Still forced into a tiny hole because there’s always someone bigger and stronger than you.

Right now, that person is Keegan for me, and he’s making sure I know it.

ChapterSeven

Somewhere within the deep recesses of the Knights headquarters, water drips. It’s overwhelming, the sound compounding as if it’s counting down the seconds until I figure out the best way to answer Sir Reginald. He’s basically asking me why Keegan has complained about me, placing the onus on my shoulders.

Straightening my shoulders, I breathe in deep and force a smile to my face before meeting Keegan’s stare. He’s forcing me to play nice, and I don’t like it, but I have zero recourse. “I’m sorry Mr. Forbes feels that way. I’ll endeavor to make better choices.”

The thing about infiltrating a centuries old boys’ club is that sometimes you have to swallow your pride and play their ridiculous games. I knew joining would be a rocky road, but the face staring back at me has gone beyond my own fears. Keegan should be the one person who’s on my side. If he cared, he would be.

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