Page 15 of Caged
Fucking Reid Carver. I should have known.
“And how is your dear older brother?” I ask, deflecting. “Divorce still beating the shit out of him?”
Jace shakes his head. His relationship with Reid has always been strained. Reid, ever the darling child, and Jace, the unplanned pregnancy that came six years later.
“Fuck if I know,” Jace comments as he zips his gym bag. “I hardly talk to the guy.”
“Pity,” I offer, my insincerity obvious.
No one is supposed to know names. Anonymity affords plausible deniability and must be strictly enforced. If I knew which email address was associated with Reid, I would fire off a scathing note immediately telling him to shut the fuck up if he knew what was good for him.
Clearly, that motherfucker doesn’t. Didn’t seem to know what was good for him when he married his college girlfriend, either.
“You know, he’s not supposed to tell you he’s coming here. You’re not supposed to know.”
“I know,” Jace states. “He said as much, albeit in an aloof, ambiguous sort of way. Very Reid-like of him. He texted, ‘If you see me at the Sigma Full Moon Ceremonyin March, no you didn’t.’”
I huff a mocking laugh. “I don’t think you’d recognize him, which I assumed he would know, but whatever,” I say. From the renderings I’ve seen sketched in the lost chapters of the Sigma Charter Book kept in the hidden room, elders present at the Ceremony wear a black, horned mask in honor of our fallen God that covers their entire face. It also seems like black robes are common as well, but judging by the fact that Jace never misses an opportunity to go shirtless, my guess is Reid’s the same. The apple never falls far from the tree.
“What’s the deal with all this shit anyway and why the fuck are alumni coming?” Jace asks.
“Because it’s our fucking tradition, Jace. Our rite of passage as Sigma. We are owed this opportunity. We would have had it if recent pledge classes didn’t fuck everything up, get us kicked off campus, and then turn into pussies. Sigma is hanging on by a thread, Jace. By a fucking thread. Don’t you remember freshman year when Colin Coates basically threatened to cut off all funding to Sigma if we didn’t bring back Sigma Sinners during my presidency? These are not rational people, Jace. They are some of the most powerful people on the planet, people who deal almost exclusively in the currencies of blood and pussy. People who are the sole reason why the two of us grew up living in mansions, even though our fathers barely lifted a finger. And I don’t know about you, but I’m sure as fuck not going to jeopardize my future over some faceless cunts who are already begging to get fucked by Sigma dick anyway. If we don’t resurrect these traditions that are ingrained in the heritage of our brotherhood, the entire thing collapses.”
“I don’t know how I feel about ‘these traditions’,” Jace responds. “It’s one thing to bring back Sigma Sinners, or Sigma Little Sisters, whatever you want to call it. Plenty of fraternities have Little Sister programs that they claim are a way to create mentorship bonds between sororities and fraternities. We all know it’s just a sex thing, though. But this othertraditionmy father told me about… I don’t know, Kieren, if I have the stomach for this medieval times shit. My father was practically giddy, which is not a good thing.”
Fury boils under my skin at his cowardice, and I point an accusatory finger. “I need you to get your fucking head right, Jace,” I shout, “because I’m sure as fuck not losing access to my trust fund because you decide to suddenly have a moral compass.”
“I do have my fucking head right!” he shouts back. “You think you’re the only one with a psychopath father? You think my daddidn’t dangle my trust fund over my head if I didn’t fall in line?” he yells, pointing to himself. “You know how badly I want to get away from that man.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Would you kill for it? For your freedom?”
“Yes,” he seethes, quieter now. “I’ll do what I have to do, but that doesn’t mean I have to approve. These elders, as you call them, are sick fucks.”
“Yeah, well, welcome to the world we live in, Jacey. You know, Barrett and Harrison don’t seem to have a problem. On the contrary, they seem quite eager.”
“Barrett and Harrison are animals,” Jace says with a shake of his head. “Are you going to tell the rest of the fraternity?”
“Fuck no, are you crazy? The Ritual of Sacrifice is on a need-to-know basis only.”
“You don’t think people will ask questions?” he asks.
“I think they’ll be too preoccupied by the thought of being balls deep in a fifty-person orgy to notice or care. But, if anyone becomes a problem, I’ll deal with them.”
I reach behind my back, and I can’t help but smile at Jace’s stunned and terrified face.
“Kieren, what the actual fuck?” he stammers. “A gun? Really?”
“I don’t expect you to understand the pressure I’m under, Jace, or what I stand to lose if the Ritual of Sacrifice doesn’t return, but believe me when I say if anyone gets in my way, I’ll toss their lifeless carcass off a fucking bridge without a second thought.”
“Who’s pressuring you? Your dad?” Jace presses.
I like Jace, most of the time, but right now he’s getting on my last fucking nerve. Jace and I are friends solely because of our time together at Andover. He latched on to me because of my known wealth and social status, and I brought him into myfold simply due to the pull he has with the opposite sex. It was a mutually beneficial relationship, but if we hadn’t attended the same private high school, I wouldn’t give him the time of day. Sure, he’d be in Sigma at Dornell and we’d cross paths, but my right-hand man? Absolutely not.
His father is a Managing Director at Citigroup, rumored to be next in line as CFO, but I’ll believe it when it happens, if it happens. Notable, but not impressive. A Managing Director’s compensation package is around one to two million annually, something any Wall Street lackey can obtain if you stick it out long enough. Come talk to me when you’re earning over thirty-million a year and then you’ll understand what real pressure feels like; how catastrophic the fall can be when you’re flying this close to the sun.
“Drop it, Jace. Now fall in line like a good soldier and shut the fuck up.”
“Whatever. I was headed to the gym anyway.”
