Speak No Evil: A Secret Society Student Teacher College Romance (The Society Book 3)

by Ivy Fox

  “Ten minutes is more than I need.”

  There is hesitance in her gaze, which I try to reassure with my best southern aristocrat smile. The minute she leaves me alone in the dressing room, I do my due diligence and check if there is anything in this room that can be tied back to my father. As I come up empty-handed, I hear faint applause coming from the lounge. I might not have found any physical proof to link the two fucked-up lovebirds together, but when Scarlett waltzes through her door, her verbal confession will do just fine.

  I lean against her vanity, arms crossed at my chest, ready for her. When she swings the door open and sees me in here, her smile turns uneasy.

  “Colt? I didn’t know you were coming to tonight’s show,” she stammers nervously, rooted in place. “If you came here for Easton, he’s just outside.”

  “I’m not here for him. I’m here for you.”

  “For me?” she asks, baffled.

  I tap my lips with my index finger as I eat away the distance between us.

  “I can’t figure you out, Scarlett, and that unsettles me.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she retorts, trying not to shift from one foot to the other.

  “Outside of the Brass Guild walls, you act like a scared little girl, but on stage, you transform into a siren luring dollar bills out of men’s pockets.”

  Her brown eyes turn cold.

  “You make me sound like a prostitute.”

  “If the stiletto fits.” I shrug, feigning boredom.

  “Are you drunk?!” she chastises, bypassing me to walk over to her vanity.

  “Far from it. I’m as sober as a judge. Huh. Funny I just said that, considering I’m still debating what the best punishment is for the crime you’ve committed.”

  She throws her wig onto the floor, staring daggers at me over her shoulder.

  “Colt, you’re not making any sense, and if I’m being honest, you being here is making me feel uncomfortable. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  A sinister chuckle leaves me as I walk over to her.

  “I’m not leaving, Scarlett. Not until you tell me what your connection to my father is.”

  Her big brown eyes go wide as saucers before she’s able to school her features to look impassive.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she quips, turning away from me and facing her mirror.

  I grab the edge of her chair, leaning down to her ear, while never breaking my gaze that’s fixed on our reflection.

  “Are you fucking him?”

  She throws her wipe on the vanity, pure venom in her glower.

  “I’m getting real sick of that question.”

  “Are you, now?” I laugh, standing back up to my full height. “And who exactly asked you that question before me? Easton perhaps?”

  “It’s none of your business either way.”

  “So there is something going on between the two of you.” My nostrils flare in disgust.

  Her lips morph into a fine line, her resolve to keep her secret affair iron-strong.

  “Now, Scarlett, don’t go all mute on me. Just tell me what the deal with you and my dad is. And don’t insult my intelligence by telling me it’s nothing.”

  “The only thing I’m telling you is to leave, Colt.”

  “I’m not budging an inch.”

  “Leave, Colt, before I get your ass thrown out of not only my dressing room but out of this club!”

  “You sound like you have a lot of influence. Why is that Scarlett?”

  She opens her mouth to reply but then shuts it.

  “Just who else are you fucking for you to feel you have all this clout?”

  “Please leave. I won’t ask you again,” she replies, wounded, pretending to be hurt by my remark.

  But I know better.

  This is all an act.

  She’s a performer, after all. She duped Easton into falling in love with her, seduced a man old enough to be her father, and if I let her, she’ll fool me too into believing I’m being unjust with her. Having had enough of her games, I grab her shoulders and turn her around in her chair to face me head-on, her loud gasp bouncing off the walls.

  “I told you I’m not leaving here without you answering me. Just out with it already!” I demand impatiently, but before I have time to shake her into giving me an answer, someone pulls me back and punches me so hard in the jaw that my entire body falls onto a nearby couch.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Easton shouts at me.

  I get up to my feet and point to the woman he’s shielding with his body.

  “What I have to. Now get out of my way. You don’t want to be here for this. Trust me.”

  “The fuck are you talking about?!”

  “Your girlfriend has some explaining to do, and I’m not leaving this room until she does.”

  I rush toward her, but East pushes me off.

  “Colt, I swear to God you’re not leaving this room without a busted lip if you try to get near Scar again!”

  I huff.

  “You think I’m bluffing, asshole? Try and put a finger on her, and I’ll knock your teeth in. Don’t test me, Colt. Not on this.”

  This motherfucker is going to make me break his heart.

  Goddamn him!

  “Then you ask her. Ask her what her relationship with my father is,” I deadpan, waiting for the ground to swallow him whole.

  But to my surprise, Easton doesn’t as much as flinch.

  “Ask him yourself. Scar doesn’t have to tell you a goddamn thing.”

  The fuck?!

  “You know, don’t you?” I stammer, taking two steps away from him.

  But instead of answering me, East just purses his lips, fists still clenched at his side.

  Something isn’t adding up. If Easton is still standing strong, unaffected by my father’s relationship with his girl, that can only mean the two aren’t screwing around his back.

  Then what the fuck is the connection?

  “You’re supposed to be my best friend. No secrets, remember?” I accuse him.

  “Brother, I’m trying really hard to remember why I’m even friends with you in the first place. You want answers? Then ask your fucking father, man to man. Stop intimidating, Scar. Believe me, Colt. You won’t win here.”

  With that threat hanging in the air between us, I do the first decent thing all night.

  I turn around and leave.

  The following Sunday morning, I find myself in the last place I’d ever think to be—parked outside Asheville’s First Baptist Church just on the outskirts of the Northside. I’m in my car, eyes closed, trying to get some shut-eye since the past few nights all I’ve done was toss and turn, when a knock at my window startles me awake.

  Scarlett pulls her long chocolate brown hair in a bun while I open the side door to let her in.

  “Does your boyfriend know you texted me to come see you this morning?”

  “No. He’s still upset with you. I thought it best that I come and talk to you alone.”

  “Right,” I mumble, slamming my head back.

  It’s not the first time Easton’s been pissed at me. Come to think of it, I usually end up getting on his nerves, and him on mine, a couple of times a week. But I love the fucker, and that’s not something I feel about most people in my life. I’ve got to find a way to make this right, but I know while East is seething in his corner, it’s best I keep my distance from him.

  Scarlett fidgets in her seat, awkwardly cleaning her wet palms over the ugliest pale gray skirt I’ve ever seen on a woman. She looks more like she’s someone’s sister-wife instead of the knockout who sings her heart out in a clandestine nightclub over the weekend.

  “Did you ask Owen?” she finally questions, breaking the silence between us.

  Owen.

  “You’re on a first-name basis with my father, huh? Pretty intimate thing if you ask me.”

  She lets out a long exhale before turning to the si
de to face me.

  “Colt, I want to have this conversation with you, but if you’re going to act like an ass, then there’s no point. Are you going to act like a grown-ass man like I know you are capable of, or am I wasting my time?”

  “Fine. You win. I’ll shut up.”

  “I shouldn’t be the one telling you this. It should have been him. But I don’t think he ever will.” She starts off pensively, and the taint of affection in her tone for my father doesn’t go unnoticed by me.

  “My father loves his secrets, Scarlett.”

  “Yes, I know that, too,” she says more sternly.

  “Ahh.” I chuckle, happy to see I’m not the only one he’s disappointed. “He’s kept some from you as well, hasn’t he?”

  “He has,” she retorts angrily.

  “And you’re pissed. That’s why you texted me to come. You want to get back at him?”

  She shakes her head, a frown now on her cupid bow mouth.

  “I’m upset with him, yes, but I know I’ll forgive him eventually. I hope you do, too.”

  “Why would I forgive my cheating-ass father for anything?”

  “Because you love him. And that’s what you do for the people you love. You forgive their shortcomings even if they hurt you.”

  “I’m no doormat.” I scoff.

  “I didn’t say you were. But you’re his son. And whether you like to admit it or not, there is a piece of you that wants to understand your father’s actions. Believe me when I tell you I’m trying to wrap my head around them, too. But I just have to trust him, because he’s always been there for me. Through the good and bad times, he’s been the one person I could always count on. I’m not going to turn my back on him just because his actions don’t sit well with me.”

  “How has my father been there for you?” I ask, utterly confused.

  “Does the name Angela Davis mean anything to you?”

  I shake my head.

  “She was my mother, Colt. You see, they grew up together, my mom and your dad, and became best friends when they were kids. She told him everything, and in turn, he confided everything in her, too. My mom left Asheville when she was eighteen in search of her big break in Vegas, but she always kept in touch with your father. A few years later, when she got pregnant with me, he became my godfather and the only male parental figure I had. I never met my dad, but that never mattered to me because I had yours. He never stayed away from Vegas for long, always trying to visit us every couple of months. Both Mom and I lived for those visits because Owen was such a force of nature. You remind me a lot of him in a way. When my mother died, he was the first to know about it and told my uncle. He made sure I had everything I needed when I arrived in Asheville. And I’m not sure I could have made it without him. He’s always been like a father to me, Colt. Not a lover like you assumed, but a guardian that I could lean on.”

  My throat is dry with the loving way Scarlett talks about him. I knew that adoration once upon a time. But not anymore. Scarlett might still have shutters for eyes, but I see him well enough. The real Owen Turner.

  “Why didn’t he ever tell my sisters or me about you? Why keep you a secret?”

  She bites her lower lip, thinking about the right response to give me.

  “I think his friendship with my mother might have been seen differently by yours. Maybe he didn’t want your mom to think he was having an affair with mine. I can tell you I never saw anything intimate with her more than a few hugs and kisses on her forehead. My mother was no homewrecker.” She reasons defensively, trying to preserve the image of a woman I never met.

  “Still sounds like cheating to me. You don’t have to have sex to emotionally cheat on your family.”

  She twiddles her thumbs and bows her head.

  “I admit I think so, too. And I think Owen is of the same mindset. Maybe that’s why he kept us a secret to spare your mom’s feelings as well as yours and your sisters.”

  “It wouldn’t matter anyway. Like you, my sisters might have rose-colored glasses on when it comes to my father, but both my mom and I know differently. Once a cheater, always a cheater.”

  The look of pity on her angelic face makes me want to punch something. I turn my face away from her, pretending to look out my window so that I don’t have to feel the guilt her sympathy evokes in me.

  “I just wanted you to know, but I would prefer if you kept this to yourself. Maybe one day he’ll tell you about me. But until then, if you could keep what I told you between us, I would appreciate it.”

  “Does East know?”

  “He went to see your father once since he also jumped to the same conclusion you did.”

  “Great,” I sneer as my jaw ticks, knowing that even my supposed best friend didn’t tell me about this.

  “Don’t be cross with East. Your father asked him not to say anything to either of us.”

  East doesn’t owe any loyalty toward my dad, but he sure as shit should have had some for me. Sensing that there isn’t much more she can do, Scarlett opens the car door and starts getting out.

  “Scarlett.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry I was such an ass to you the other night. You got the brunt of my rage and didn’t deserve it. I know when I’ve fucked up.”

  “Apology accepted.” She smiles timidly.

  “Scarlett, can I ask you something?”

  She nods.

  “Why are you angry at him? With my dad, I mean?”

  “Because I’m tired of living a life filled with unspoken lies. Their only purpose is to cause pain.”

  “Ahh, but that’s the catch, isn’t it? My father loves his secrets too much to give them up.”

  “So I’m learning.”

  Chapter 15

  Colt

  Linc: We need to talk. Come to the Grind before school.

  That was the only text I got from my cousin this whole weekend since I blew up at The Brass Guild. He didn’t have to write anything else for me to know—that just like East—he’s pissed at me.

  No, fuck that.

  Worse.

  Disappointed.

  My head leans back into my car seat’s headrest, thinking of how far I’ve fucked up that even Linc is upset with me. It wasn’t always like this. There was a time that Lincoln believed I could never be in the wrong. He’d place his hands over a hot stove, confident in his belief that whatever fucked-up thing I got messed up in, it was never my fault.

  A specific memory of a lazy summer afternoon from our past comes to the forefront of my mind, and as hard as I try to push it away, I’m helpless to resist it.

  I slice through the water like a shark, my expert strokes bringing me closer to the floating board where she’s sunbathing in her yellow polka dot bikini. I know I’m showing off, but if I want Kennedy to look at me the same way she does my cousin, I have to give her a reason to. Maybe swimming like a gold-medal champion won’t do the trick, but I have to try something. And forcing a kiss out of her won’t work since the last time I tried to pull that shit, she pushed me out of our treehouse and broke my damn arm in the process. This time she has to come to me if she wants to get her first kiss. We all know Lincoln has been dragging his feet and won’t do it himself.

  Guilt consumes me as I think of the reason why he still hasn’t made his move.

  He knows I like her.

  And because he loves me, he won’t stand in my way where Ken is concerned.

  He’s always been selfless like that.

  I, on the other hand, don’t know the meaning of the word.

  With those distracting thoughts in my head, I lose my rhythm and end up swallowing lake water as a result. As I pull myself up onto the wooden float, I don’t know if I should feel grateful or pissed no one noticed me completely fucking up my less than perfect butterfly attempts. Grabbing a towel to dry off, I sit next to the girl I was trying to impress. Her legs dance in the water as her gaze remains fixed on Lincoln, who is rowing her canoe.

  If Ken
nedy is anywhere near a body of water, then it is a safe bet that her trusty canoe is always nearby. She can’t swim for shit, but like hell would she ever let that stop her from joining us on lake days. Her pride won’t let her wear floaties on her arms or a life jacket, preferring to use them only when she’s paddling her canoe. And even then, she always reminds us that even the best swimmers have to use one when they grow.

  “You know, I could always teach you how to swim,” I tell her when I catch her enviously looking over at my sisters having a grand old time swimming closer to the shore.

  “Doubtful. You looked like you were about to drown a minute ago.”

  “Ahh, so you were watching,” I gloat, nudging her shoulder with mine.

  “Hard not to when you act like a pompous ass all the time.”

  “That hurt,” I joke, placing my palm over my chest.

  “Sure it did.” She laughs.

  “I can teach you if you want,” Teddy chimes in behind us, his voice making my skin crawl.

  Kennedy throws her head over her shoulder and gifts him her weak-ass, fake smile.

  “No need, Teddy. If I ever want to learn, I’ll ask Lincoln. But thanks for the offer, though,” she replies sweetly.

  “Suit yourself,” he counters in a bored tone, lying back on his beach towel.

  Ken turns around and rolls her eyes. She hates the sicko just as much as I do, but since he’s Linc’s older brother, she puts up with him for his sake. Ken would do anything for Lincoln, even if that means acting like she likes his creepy-ass older brother. I see how she tries not to cringe when the asshole undresses her with his eyes. The fucker is already a freshman in high school, but apparently, only thirteen-year-old girls do it for him.

  It’s fucking disgusting.

  But I wouldn’t expect anything else from him. I know the asshole had something to do with what happened with my younger sisters’ cat, Whiskers, last month. The cat was fine one minute, and the next, Irene found him in our hedge maze with his neck broken. She had nightmares for weeks while little Abby cried for days on end. Even Meredith shed a tear when Dad buried Whiskers next to our conservatory, and she’s made of stone. The only ones at the house that day were Teddy and Linc for our usual Sunday family brunch, and I know my cousin wouldn’t hurt a damn fly, much less kill my kid sisters’ pet.