Page 22 of Caged
“But I saw what they did to her,” Adrianna whispers.
“What do you mean? Did they hurt her?”
Adrianna looks around the empty room like someone might jump out of the closet at any second.
“Please promise me you won’t say anything,” she asks.
“I promise,” I assure her, though I sure as fuck am telling Ele and Viv.
“I think they branded her,” Adrianna says in a voice so quiet, I have to strain to hear, even though she’s sitting three inches in front of me.
“Branded her?” I ask, nearly choking on the words.
Adrianna nods. “She was getting dressed one day, and I happened to glance over right as she was putting on her underwear. It was this ugly, red welt on her ass. I gasped when I saw it, and she immediately covered herself. I asked her what it was, and she played it off. She said it was nothing. But I couldn’t keep my fucking mouth shut, so I kept asking, until finally she snapped. She told me to pretend I didn’t see it, to never ask about it again, and to never tell anyone. She said if I tell anyone, they’ll find out, and they’ll take it out on her.”
I suck in a breath and try to process the horrifying concept of a freshman girl getting branded all because she wanted to be someone special to a bunch of feckless frat boys.
A disturbing thought occurs to me.
“Adrianna, did you tell anyone else? I mean, maybe accidentally, after a few drinks or something.”
She peers over her knees, now clutched so tight to her chest that I could roll her out of this room like a ball.
“Only a couple of the girls in our pledge class, when they started asking why Kasey wasn’t showing up to events.” The horror on her face makes me feel like I’ve stepped into some sort of movie. “I…,” she stammers. “They said they wouldn’t say anything.”
Because a house full of thirty chatty sorority girls isn’t a swirling cauldron of gossip…
Right.
9
KIEREN
Seven Months Prior to Present Day,
Beginning of February, Junior Year,
Dornell University
“What do you want, Father?” I ask with annoyance. Up until this point in my life, my father couldn’t give two shits about me. As long as my extracurricular proclivities weren’t fodder for the amusement of his gossiping country club buddies, he preferred to leave the parenting to my mother, who in turn preferred to hand me off to my rotating door of nannies. It’s shocking either of them remembered my name, although I’m fairly certain half the time they forgot my birthday.
Today’s phone call from my father marks the sixth phone call I’ve received from him over the past four weeks, which might amount to more than all the calls he’s made over the past four years. After the first call, I was pleasantly surprised, believing his need to check in on my well-being was sincere. After the second call, aggravation began to fester as the reason for his calls became clear. Then, the third call came, and the old mancouldn’t be bothered to even pretend to care. He wanted to know if I’d set the wheels in motion. X had made good on his end of the bargain, and now it was my turn.
“Kieren,” he says gruffly. “X tells me you’ve been challenging to pin down.”
I huff my frustration, because that’s bullshit. “I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. I’ve returned every email and every text.”
I’ve spoken to the man once, and it was clear from our twelve-minute conversation that he was using a voice manipulation tool. His instructions were curt and to the point. I was to reinstate the Ritual of Sacrifice no later than the third full moon of the new year. X would work out the details with my father to reinvest our clients’ remaining money, which would save our family from financial ruin, and I was to study the lost chapters of the Sigma Charter. When I asked where I could find said lost chapters, he became irritated, scorning my grandfather for not explaining Sigma’s history to me or my dimwitted father.
As much as I enjoyed hearing another person debase the man who sired me, attacking my grandfather who suffers from dementia is where I draw the line. Once it became clear to X that I don’t find his snarling threats intimidating, he begrudgingly told me that everything I needed to know could be found in the hidden Room of Sacrifice, which can only be opened with a Sigma Key.
While I understand this X character is to be feared, I also find it difficult to take someone who uses a voice manipulating device seriously. The number of times I had to bite my tongue to prevent myself from calling him Freddie Krueger should be studied by monks.
But, whatever. He gets what he wants, and my family’s reputation lives to fight another day. I should be more concerned than I am about how easy this agreement was tostrike, but having regard for the welfare of others has never been my strong suit.
“X tells me your responses to his correspondence have been vague and lagging.”
“Did he now? I see I’m not the only one doing X’s bidding. Has he got you wiping his ass as well?”
