Page 12 of Tell Me Why
His eyes narrow at my statement. I can’t risk missing classes. I’ve worked too hard to just throw it all away.
Tension crackles between us as I challenge Christian’s apparent authority. His jaw tightens, and I can almost see him wrestling with his need for control. Then a single, curt word breaks the silence. “Fine.”
“So, do we have a deal, or what?” I ask.
Christian steps back and allows his gaze to wander slowly over me again. I get the sense he’s considering his next words, and I brace myself for another outlandish demand, like telling me to strip naked before he’ll make a decision. In the end, though, he pushes out a breath like he’s already tired of this conversation. “Sure, whatever.”
Relief washes over me, even as fear takes root in my chest. It’s weird how you can feel two such strong emotions at the same time. But now that I officially “belong” to the Sacred Sons, what will I be subjected to?
“Can I get dressed now?” I ask, my jaw tightening.
Christian lights his blunt again and pulls in another lungful of smoke. “No,” he says with a lazy smile. “You can run along to the kitchen and make us sandwiches while we figure out what to do with you.”
“I need my duffel bag.” I look past Christian to the other guys. They seem more reasonable. “And where am I going to sleep?”
Christian pushes off the door and grabs my chin forcefully, his fingers pinching my skin, making me wince. “Roman isn’t using his bedroom at the moment, and it’s right next to mine. You can sleep there for now.”
He doesn’t explain what “for now” means, and honestly, I’m too afraid to ask.
“Now off you go to the kitchen…” he says dismissively, releasing my chin.
I take a step to the side, so I can get the door open, his rough laughter following me into the hall. I have no idea where the kitchen is and there’s no one around to ask, so I wander back the way Jackson and I came, toward the entryway. There, sitting next to the front door is my duffel bag and I rush over to it. The security guard must have searched through it and deemed it “clean.”Thank God.
Fumbling around inside the bag, my hand closes around theone thingI give a fuck about. I pull out the little box that’s wrapped in whimsical Christmas paper and I turn it carefully in my hands, inspecting every corner and edge—no tears, no crushed spots. The paper looks undamaged, and I feel my shoulders relax as relief washes over me.
Putting the box back delicately, I pull out the first thing I see—another knitted sweater—and put it on. I’ll probably get in trouble for covering myself up, but it’s freezing in this house, and I’m willing to take the consequences at this point.
After wandering aimlessly through the house, I finally find the kitchen. It’s all the way in the back and it’s…beautiful. More beautiful than these assholes deserve, for sure. Dark cabinets and marble countertops. But when I open the stainless steel fridge, there’s practically nothing inside. Beer, flavored coffee creamer, a few fast food containers, and a handful of condiments. No bread, lunch meat, cheese, or anything even resembling sandwich components.
Shutting the fridge, I push out a breath, tears stinging the backs of my eyes. Christian sent me in here knowing I wouldn’t find anything to fulfill his stupid request. Five minutes into this, and I’ve already been set up to fail.
I don’t have a lot of money, but I have some. I could find a grocery store and buy the things I need, but I’m not even sure I’m allowed to leave the house. Physical boundaries weren’t mentioned during our negotiation. Should I risk it?
I’m leaning against the cold marble island, trying to calculate risk versus reward, when I hear someone walk into the kitchen behind me.
“Eve?”
I twist sound to see a familiar face staring back at me. It’s Skye. Relief floods me as I rush over and pull her into a tight hug. “Oh, my God. It’s so good to see a friendly face.” I pull back with a realization. “Wait…what are you doing here? I thought only members were invited inside Rush House?”
Her cheeks flush, and she glances away. “I was initiated last night.”
Wait,what?
Is she serious?
That’s when I notice the shallow cut on the side of her neck and her swollen bottom lip. She’s wearing lip gloss, so it wasn’t immediately noticeable.
“I’m sorry,” I laugh, shaking my head, trying to wrap my head around this. “I’m so confused. You never told me you were interested in joining the Burning Crown…”
“Yeah, honestly, I wasn’t…” she says. “...but you were going to be here, and I just thought…” Her words trail off, and she doesn’t continue, maybe worried I’m going to judge her. That kinda hurts, if I’m being honest.
“Oh,” I intone, not sure what to say. “Well, congrats. That’s good news, right?”
She smiles at me. “Thanks, yeah. It is. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it, though. You know, considering everything that’s going on with your brother…”
I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was a little taken aback by her being here andinitiated, no less. I’ve told her all the fucked up shit the Burning Crown does—the lives they’ve destroyed just for shits and giggles—but to each their own, I guess, right?
“Honestly, I’m surprised to see you here…I guess I never thought you’d go for something like this.” I try to keep my tone non-judgmental, butdamn, she actually joined the Burning Crown. Wow. That’s a hard pill to swallow.
