Page 70 of Massacre Monday
As if I’d tell my sources. It’s not two seconds before she spits the word into the air. “Aiden.” A gruff growl escapes her throat as she pulls herself away from me. “Fine. I’ll get her there. No threats needed, Cardell.”
Hurried steps lead her away from me, and I feel like part of me can relax.
As long as Pippi shows up toTheta’sRed Night event.
twenty-four
“And you’resurehe won’t be here?”
“I mean, he’s an alumnus. I doubt he would, but I don’tknow.” Amelia purses her pink-painted lips while tossing a look into the rear-view mirror as we round the country lane in front ofTheta Rho Zeta’sgothic estate.
“Youtoldme he wouldn’t be, Amelia!”
I’ve heard horror stories of the infamousThetaparty they host a few times a year. Right on the invitation, it says that by attending, you’re consenting to any sexual activities that may occur. The fraternity only hands out the coveted red envelopes to willing participants they choose, and Amelia said we were specifically invited. And I’m sure it was by the man I’ve been avoiding for a week.
My off-the-shoulder tiny red dress suddenly feels too short and too tight. The silk doesn’t give at all when I tug on the bottom or try to pull up the top that’s folded over seductively, allowing some of my nipple to show.
I should be in the mood to flaunt myself, but the thought of my stalker being atRed Nightmakes me feel creeped out. Too exposed. Like my insides are on the outside.
A crack cuts through the tense silence in the car as we drive beyond the front gates after showing our invitations and clean sex tests. Gathering my phone from the floor where I dropped it, I read Ryan’s last text to me before I blocked him.
Stalker
Pink cheeks. Please, please come to Red Night and I can explain everything.
The way he texts me makes me think perhaps heisn’tbehind the unknown messages I’ve received. No. Ryan Cardellwantsme to know it’s him. He’s loud. Obsessive. Unmistakable.
But he isnotwhy I came here tonight. He’s not the reason. He’s not!
This is a sex party, and I plan to give myself away to a random stranger in a mask. No more waiting and no more crazy Ryan Cardell.
That man scares me. Especially after I discovered two of his cameras in my room. My cousin Valen scanned my phone and found a tracker on it! And the one on my Harley!
Maybe if Ryanishere, I can fuck a random brother right in front of him, make him regret trying to own me and follow me.
Dread squeezes my heart at the vision of him and someone else. I don’t think I can take another scene of him with another woman. No. I can’t do this…
“This was a terrible idea. I want to go home.”
“Look, Pippi. We’re here! We can just have a good time. Like I told you, no strings attached. You can do as much or as little as you want, anonymously. No one will know you’re here, so ifyou’re worried about Ryan, I doubt he’ll be able to pick you out of the crowd.”
Taking the hint, I flip the visor mirror down and secure my mask in place, making sure it covers most of my face. Sequins of red and black adorn half of my features. Plumes of ebony feathers and rubied roses decorate the sides, giving it a festive look. Using the dim overheads in the car, I adjust my fire engine red wig that matches the material on my cocktail dress. Figured if it wasRed Night, I’d wear all red.
As we drive up to the three-tiered sparkling fountain, lit with crimson twinkle lights, several men in maroon suit jackets help us out of the car, then lead us toward the front of the manor.
My friend’s puffy white dress is so short, it almost reveals everything she’snotwearing underneath, but she smooths it down before following her escort.
I cringe inside when I glance at the man who offers me his arm. He’s the younger version of Ryan I saw in the bar. Henry Cardell, I believe his name is. With a deep breath, I slip my hand around his thick bicep, hoping he doesn’t recognize me. Would he tell his brother that I’m here?
“Ladies, be prepared to show your invitation and IDs at the door,” he says with a little bow, waving a gloved hand at the queue formed there.
My mouth becomes a desert as doom trickles through my veins. In a frantic move, I snag Amelia’s forearm and tug her to my side. “But we alreadyshowedthem at the gate, right?”
Amelia chuckles and confidently aims us toward the back of the line. “Will you relax? It’s fine. It’s a party. We’ll get lost in the crowd as soon as we get inside.” As if I’m a child afraid to get on a roller coaster, she pats my hand.
Stone gargoyles squat on the edges of the house, looming over us as onyx shadows drip from the moon, coating my skin like inky blood. Every window of the ancient estate is leaded,peaked, and holds a red candle that sways with an ominous greeting.
When I peer up at a large Palladian directly above our heads, a naked woman’s breasts plaster against the glass and her palms slap beside her figure while a man shoves into her from behind. A black hole forms from her open mouth as her terrified eyes latch onto mine. If I could hear, it appears she’s screaming. Whether in agony or ecstasy, I guess I won’t know.
