Page 42 of Revere
“I have a reputation for getting the job done.” I roll up my other sleeve, watching the man’s feet sway.
His bloody, raw toes drag on the concrete.
“I get why Declan’s trying to get you on our side now.”
I hum, not responding. I’m well aware of what Declan wants from me as he slowly tears at the seams of Sigma House, rebuilding it in whatever fucked-up vision he’s created. I just don’t know that I care to be a part of it. Especially with certain players still on the board.
There’s a reason I left Bristal, along with turning down the opportunity to run the helm of Sigma Sin at a national level years ago. At a certain point, it’s nothing but messy political games where everyone suffers the consequences. I came closeonce under the mentorship of Gideon Lancaster and learned my lesson.
Sigma Sin simultaneously gave me everything and took it away, and since then, I’ve maintained the air of being indifferent and kept my distance.
I’ve completed tasks for the House as needed, and they’ve let me live my life.
Until now, when the past is knocking.
Declan might enjoy his role leading the fraternity on campus, but someone needs to claim the presidential seat of the Council. His sights are on me since he knows we share a similar vision, and I’ve continued to put off making a final decision. Which is why Kole is here this summer. A final attempt to sway me. He’s gotten as far as convincing me to return for a semester of teaching at Briar, but they’ll want more.
Breathing in the stale, metallic warehouse air, I try to imagine leaving LA permanently. I’ve been content living in my own little slice of Sigma hell at the edge of the country. Nothing interested me more than this, until Patience Lancaster fell into my lap. Now the thought of her leaving at the end of the program puts me on edge, and it has nothing to do with my original plans.
It’s been two weeks since we were alone in my office, and I still can’t erase that look in her eyes as she fell apart. Maybe I should have bent her over right then and ripped into her until she screamed and begged. Maybe then I would have worked her out of my system.
But she was so delicate—so vulnerable. I couldn’t help but take my time.
I want to savor every second with that girl.
How could someone so sharp, brilliant, and beautiful be born from the blood of Gideon Lancaster? It doesn’t make sense.
Grabbing a torch off the table at the edge of the room, I approach Bellamy Grant. His dark hair is nearly black since it’s soaked in sweat, and there are welts all over his naked body.
Bellamy is the perfect example of how easy it is for great men to fall when they get too greedy. Bellamy could have done anything with his impressive rise through the ranks of Sigma House. Instead, he chose to destroy a fellow brother’s business to fund his new start-up, thinking the House wouldn’t find out what he did.
There are very few things Sigma House doesn’t condone, but even the devil has lines. And when a member does something that will so blatantly smear the name of the House, they’re dealt with.
“Ready to wake up?” I light the torch and lift it to Bellamy’s bare chest.
It takes less than a few seconds for his skin to start bubbling. He screams, flailing as he attempts to pull back, but he can’t with how he dangles on meat hooks from the ceiling. When he loses another layer of skin, I pull the torch back. I have no intention of making this easy or quick.
Kole’s gaze moves to the rattling chains hooked to the ceiling. “Effective setup. We need to make a few adjustments to the basement back at the fraternity.”
The shadows that sweep his eyes promise violence and give me a hint at who Kole is. While I know Declan well through my previous dealings with his father, I don’t know Kole beyond the fact that he passed his seven initial trials faster than anyone before him and that he’s a clinically diagnosed psychopath with a hell of a sadistic streak. Diagnoses aside, I suppose I’m no better than Kole if the man I’ve strung up like meat is any indication.
Finally, Bellamy opens his one eye that can. “Please. I’m sorry.”
I breathe out a laugh. “We both know we’re well past the point of apologies. All I need is one name, and this ends.”
“I don’t know.” Lighting the torch again, Bellamy starts screaming. “I don’t know, I swear.”
“Not good enough.” I lift the torch to his side, searing a line along his ribs as he flails so hard he’s going to rip himself off the hooks.
When I pull back, sweat, tears, and snot stain his face.
“Paul.” His voice shakes. “Paul Donovan.”
“You’re lying to me now?”
“I’m not?—”
His argument cuts off in a scream as I sear the hair off his chest. There was a time when the smell of burning flesh bothered me. When the sight of blood made my stomach turn. I learned that after enough exposure, anything can be trained out of a person. It’s why Patience’s ability to get under my skin unnerves me the way it does.
