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

by Ivy Fox

  “My grandfather didn’t think so. He believed that The Society found out about the Judge’s pastimes and gave him a choice. Either admit to his crimes or deal with the consequences of his inaction. Since he didn’t turn himself in, it’s safe to assume they dealt with him themselves. It was just bad luck that my parents got caught in the crosshairs and became their collateral damage.”

  “If someone can take the lives of innocent people just to make sure evil men get their due, doesn’t that make them just as immoral? Just as vulnerable to the same kind of retribution,” I spit out, my body trembling with equal measures of rage and terror.

  “I agree with you to some extent, but you have to understand that type of statement only makes sense in a world where the line between good and evil is clearly defined. Not everything is that linear or black and white, Colt. It’s just not that kind of world we live in.”

  “I’m guessing that when your grandfather found this letter, he didn’t stop there, did he?” I ask, instead of continuing on this precise debate.

  “No. Like you, he believed The Society also needed to be brought to justice.”

  “Sounds like I would have liked him.”

  “I think he’d have liked you, too,” she replies, with a deep melancholy tone.

  I entwine my hand in hers, giving it a light, comforting squeeze.

  “It’s okay. I’ve made my peace with it.”

  “Have you? Because it doesn’t seem like you have, Em. You’re writing a tell-all book on these fuckers. Continuing on where your grandfather left off. All of this sounds dangerous to me. Especially considering that if what you told me is true, then The Society doesn’t care if innocent lives are ruined just by merely being in their way.” I plead to her common sense, but my shoulders instantly slump when she starts to shake her head in denial.

  “I don’t think their intention was ever to kill my parents. In that regard, I do believe it was an accident they didn’t account for.”

  “That doesn’t justify what they’ve done! You grew up without a mom and a dad because of them, Em. Who knows what they’ll do if they find out what you’ve been up to all these years. This is dangerous! Too fucking dangerous!”

  “I’m not in danger, Colt. I promise you that I’m not,” she tries to assure, cupping my face in her palms.

  I know you are.

  “Em, listen to me. Please.” I hold onto her wrists. “Do you think these fuckers are going to let you publish this book? Outing all their dirty laundry? You’re smarter than that. They will come after you. You know they will.”

  “You sound afraid. I didn’t think anything could make you afraid.”

  “I’m afraid of you getting hurt.”

  Fuck that. I’m terrified that she will.

  “I’m a big girl, Colt. I can take care of myself.”

  Not against The Society, you can’t.

  Her phone starts to vibrate on the table, taking her attention away from me, but as she begins to reach out to grab it, I hold onto her elbow, pulling her to face me.

  “Stop this, Em. Please. For me.”

  Her eyes soften, the emotion swimming in her golden pools, terrifying me even more than the ominous society.

  “I’ll be fine. You have to trust me. I just need to finish what my grandfather started. I owe him that much.”

  “I don’t believe that. I don’t believe for a second he’d risk you to go after them.”

  She pulls away from me, standing up to put some distance between us.

  “It doesn’t matter what you believe. It’s what I want. I will see this through, Colt. And not you or The Society themselves will stop me.”

  I get up to my feet, aggravation, and helplessness leaving me off-kilter on how to change her mind. I stare her down as she picks up her phone, a sudden annoyed expression marring her features.

  “I… um… I forgot I have an errand to run this afternoon,” she stammers, doing everything in her power not to look me in the eye.

  “Whatever. Do you, Em. It seems like that’s your MO anyway. I’m going for a walk.”

  I pick up my winter coat and slam my way out of her apartment.

  In my haste to leave Emma’s place, I walk past my car and decide that a walkthrough Charlotte’s streets is a good enough solution to temper my foul mood. After all, Emma confided in me, how can she still be so determined in going after The Society? They killed her parents, murdered a judge—even if the fucker did deserve it—and got away with it scot-free, for crying out loud. Why isn’t she running for the hills? Why did she sacrifice four years of her life into writing a book that will only ensure their wrath? I don’t fucking get it. There has to be more to this—something I’m not seeing.

  I grab my phone out of my pocket with the sole purpose of calling Linc. If anyone can figure this mess out, it will be him. He’s been on my case about me not having any leads on The Society as it is, always reminding me that I’m on the clock. I’m sure I’m already on his shitlist for evading his calls. My cousin doesn’t understand that every time I talk to him, I feel like shit for lying to his face. Not that I’ve made any leeway with figuring out just what the fuck The Society wants from me either. I’m fucking up in all directions, and right now, I feel like I’m drowning.

  But before I’m able to bring Linc’s name up on my screen, an unanswered text grabs my attention. Between the various messages done by my asshole of a father wondering where I’ve been holed up all weekend, to my baby sister Abby ordering me to text her proof of life, Easton’s text is the one that gives me actual pause.

  Easton: Call me when you see this asshole

  Without giving it a second thought, I press call.

  “Took you long enough,” he greets with an irate tone after the second ring.

  “Ah, what? Did you miss me? I was wondering when you’d call for us to kiss and make up.”

  “Can it, asshole. I’m still fucking pissed at you, so let me say what I have to and be done with it.”

  “Right.” I grit my teeth. I hate that the motherfucker is still angry at me about what went down at The Brass Guild with Scarlett. Easton has never been the type to forgive and forget easily, but he never held a grudge with me for so long. I hate to admit it, but I fucking miss the melancholic prick. “Go on then.”

  “Christmas is in two days, and my folks invited the guys over to spend it with us.”

  “And you wanted to personally invite me over yourself? I’m touched,” I reply sarcastically.

  The line goes silent, and I don’t have to see him to know he’s clenching his fists.

  “Scarlett’s the one who wants me to invite you.”

  “But not you,” I rebuke, already knowing his answer.

  “I’m not there yet, Colt,” he huffs into the phone.

  “Got it. Tell Scarlett that I have plans with the family and I can’t make it. She’ll buy that.” My jaw goes stiff at the pregnant pause that ensues. “Anything else?” I ask, wanting to hurry up and hang up the phone on him.

  “Just one more thing. We’re all still going to your parents’ place for New Year’s.”

  I let out an artic chuckle.

  “If you want me to be a no-show for that as well, then you’re in for a world of disappointment. I can’t miss it. My mother will have my balls if I do.”

  “I figured as much. I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be there. With Scarlett.”

  “I have nothing against your girl, East,” I admit in earnest, wanting to make it clear in his mind that my issue was never with his girlfriend. It was always with my asshole of a father.

  “Did you really apologize to her?”

  “Yeah,” I mumble back.

  “Good.” He sighs. “Just fucking be on your best behavior with her on New Year’s. I don’t want to have to rearrange your face with your momma and sisters all there. You feel me?”

  Like my mother would even care.

  “I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

  “Sure you wi
ll.” He scoffs, but there is a light taint of humor behind it.

  “I am sorry, East. I overstepped and fucked up. I know I did.”

  “Well, holy shit. Another apology from Colt Turner. Either hell has frozen over, or it’s a fucking Christmas miracle.”

  We both nervously snicker on the phone, and I kick the air with my shoe.

  “So, are we good?”

  “No.” He exhales loudly. “But we’ll get there. That’s what family does, right? Forgives us when we act like total jackasses.”

  “Not every family.”

  “Yeah, well, ours does. We’ve survived worse trials.”

  I’m not so sure that we have.

  But instead of uttering that depressing thought out, I go with a less complicated one.

  “Have a Merry Christmas, East.”

  “Yeah. You too, asshole.”

  When I hang up the phone, I’m both burdened with the hope that Easton will forgive me eventually and saddened that I was the one who made him hate the sight of me in the first place.

  But all those feelings disappear when I lock eyes with a couple across the street, sitting inside a café, deep in intimate conversation.

  Rage.

  Fury.

  Betrayal.

  Jealousy.

  Those are the burning feelings running through my bloodstream when I catch Emma on a date with none other than Montgomery-fucking-Ryland

  Chapter 23

  Emma

  My heart becomes trapped in my throat as Colt’s hateful jade eyes stare daggers into my soul from across the street.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Shit!!!

  “Emma, is there something wrong? You’ve turned awfully pale all of a sudden. Is everything alright?”

  I grab the glass of water in front of me and take a huge gulp.

  No, Montgomery. Everything is far from being alright.

  “Will you give me a minute? I need to use the powder room.” I throw him a docile smile hoping my excuse will prevent him from asking any other questions.

  “Yes, of course.”

  Like the perfect southern gentleman he pretends to be, Montgomery stands up from his seat as I lift myself onto unsteady legs. I rush out of the room and head to the coffee house’s entrance, Colt already standing at the door waiting for me.

  “What the fuck, Emma?!” he growls through clenched teeth.

  “Not here,” I chastise and pull him away from the café onto a nearby alley where he can’t make a scene.

  “What?” He pulls away from my grasp. “Are you afraid your boyfriend will see that you have been dipping your professor pen into the student pool?”

  “That’s not fair. And he’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Are you sure? Because the way he was staring at your boobs when you were talking kind of gave the impression that he is.”

  “If I dated every man that looked at my breasts, then I wouldn’t have any spare time to spend it listening to you say all this nonsense.”

  “Ah, look who has gotten so full of herself now,” he sneers, looking at me from top to bottom with such disdain, it fogs up my reasoning.

  “Will you just shut up? Let me think!”

  “Do you honestly believe you can come up with a valid excuse as to why you fucked me not two hours ago in your apartment and now are on a fucking date? With your fucking boss no less, Emma?!”

  He grabs me by the chin with such force that I have no choice but to follow his lead and take a step back. Once he has me pinned to the wall, his grip moves from my chin onto my throat.

  “Colt, you’re hurting me.”

  He’s not, but I sigh out an exhale of relief when his unyielding grip loosens.

  “Explain, Em! Cause I’m fucking at my wits end!”

  “It’s not what it looks like. I’ll explain everything back home. I promise.”

  He shakes his head profusely and pins my wrists together above my head, his sweet minty breath kissing my face.

  “Explain now, Em. Are you fucking him?!”

  “No.”

  “I don’t believe you.” He shuts his eyes, letting out a pained gruff.

  “Colt, look at me. I swear on my parents that Montgomery hasn’t laid a finger on me.”

  His nose flairs in disgust at my remark.

  “You just saying his name has me losing my goddamn mind. Why, Em? Why string me along if he was the one you wanted? Did you take some kind of perverse pleasure in fucking your student while trying to entice the dean into your bed as well? Was that your end game? Or was I just a challenge to you, and now you’re off to the next conquest? Fucking explain it to me, Em, because the reasons I’m coming up with on my own don’t paint a pretty fucking picture, Professor,” he spits out, all teeth and rage.

  I don’t know what has me more conflicted—that Colt so easily jumped into the conclusion that I’m sleeping with Montgomery or that he looks as if his whole world just ended because of it.

  “You’re upset. Too upset to hear reason or think straight. Go home, Colt. Before you say something we’ll both regret.”

  He pushes away from me, leveling me with such a cold stare, an arctic chill runs down my spine.

  “Too late. I already fucking regret ever setting my eyes on you.”

  “Colt—”

  “Goodbye, Professor. Have a fucking spectacular life.”

  He turns around and leaves me standing there, mouth agape and heart hammering. It takes all the strength I have to walk back to the café and face Montgomery again.

  “Feeling better?” he asks, feigning concern the minute I sit at our table.

  “Much. Thank you.”

  “Are you sure? You still look flushed.”

  “I’m fine,” I sneer and then quickly backpedal and offer him a fake smile.

  “Alright then, if you’re sure. How about we order some food?” he adds, snapping his fingers to the waiter behind the counter.

  “No. I think it’s best we call it a day and head home.”

  “Oh?” His eyes light up at the insinuation behind my statement.

  “I meant that I should be going home, alone.”

  “I see. I confess I thought the opposite. I thought we were reaching a stage in our relationship where maybe you’d finally invite me over to your place and get to know each other on a different level.”

  “There is no relationship,” I seethe at him in my head but seal my lips shut. In his self-entitled mind, he thinks since this is our third date, sex must be on the table for him. Never going to happen.

  “I only came today so that I can tell you in person that I think we should stop having these small get-togethers entirely.”

  “Did I do something to offend you?”

  “No, nothing of the sort. I just think we work better in a professional setting—as colleagues. Nothing more.”

  “How disappointing. I thought we had a real connection.”

  The only connection we had was you wanting to jump my bones and me waiting to know if you were in The Society or not. Once you told me you were persona non grata by the Richfields, I knew that could never be the case.

  “But I will respect your wishes.” He smiles tightly. As if you had a choice in the matter. “I hope that at least we can be friends and not just mere work colleagues from here on out.”

  “Of course.” I give him yet another thin smile. “Now, if you will excuse me, I should be getting back. With school out for Christmas break, I have plenty of assignments to grade that I’d like to catch up on.”

  “Far be it from me to keep you from your scholarly duties. Please, let me walk you to your car.”

  We both stand up simultaneously and head outside. Thankfully I was able to grab a parking space just a few feet away from the café, so our walk to it is relatively short.

  “I will miss these small dates we shared, Emma. If you ever change your mind, call me.” He leans in and places a wet kiss on my cheek, too close to the side of my lips for it
to be an innocent mistake.

  Since I’m on the home stretch now, I decide not to scold him on his unwanted kiss. But as I sit behind the wheel of my car, I catch the sight of piercing light emerald eyes from my rearview mirror, utter misery tarnishing their celestial beauty, resulting in breaking my heart.

  Once I arrive home, I try to occupy my mind with anything and everything but thoughts of how I left things with Colt. Not able to focus on work, I result in putting up a pathetic small Christmas tree in the corner of my living room, high-fiving myself that I was able to get it up before Christmas Eve this year. I bake gingerbread men to add to the Christmassy feel I’ve decided to go with as my distraction and end up eating the whole batch for my dinner with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s vanilla ice cream to accompany it. I buy a dress online for New Year’s, a mistake of monumental proportions since I end up obsessing if it’s such a good idea to go to the Richfield party knowing Colt will be there.

  Safe to say that when I finally crawl into my cold bed, I’m miserable. As I stare at the empty pillow beside me where Colt had laid his head on for the past two nights, my heart cracks further. How he got under my skin so quickly is beyond my comprehension, but even if I can’t grasp how he effortlessly sneaked his way inside my heart, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s in there now. The time we have shared this month has been the highlight of my entire stay in Asheville.

  No. That’s a lie.

  Since Colt came waltzing into my life with his wolfish smirk and light eyes, it’s like a spark was lit inside me—a flame that I would do anything to keep from extinguishing. He’s the breath of fresh air that brought unpredictability back to my otherwise foreseeable life. Everything in it before he came along, I had planned and carefully thought out. From where I went to school, where I took my first teaching job, and finally, the steps I followed to bring me closer to The Society. All my life, nothing came as a shock to me because I controlled each choice, each outcome.

  I never expected Colt.

  I never even saw him coming.

  Not until it was too late.

  I toss and turn in my bed, wondering if it isn’t best to call defeat and just pick up a book until sleep finally arrives when a faint knock on my door sends my heart racing. I look at my watch and see it’s two in the morning. Unable to prevent from getting my hopes up, I run in a mad dash to the door. Through the peephole, I see the man who has rattled the cage to my heart until its locked clutch was no match to keep him away. I take two large gulps of air and open the door.