by Ivy Fox
If Walker thinks his momma doesn’t know his girl has a dirty mouth, he’s living in la-la land. Stone rolls her eyes at him, pointing a knowing finger at me.
“Admit it! You banged our ethics professor?!”
“He did more than that, didn’t you, Colt?” a familiar raspy voice utters from behind me.
I turn around to face Asheville’s dark prince in his usual black attire, a timid Scarlett right beside him. Scarlett throws me a timid nod and then goes over to greet the girls. Easton stays rooted to his spot, placing his hand on my shoulder and leaning into my ear so only I can hear the words that fall from his mouth.
“Not only did you fuck her, but you fell in love with her, too. Isn’t that right?”
“That’s none of your business.” I grind my teeth, not liking the way he’s talking about Emma.
He chuckles as his grip tightens on my shoulder.
“Tell me, asshole. What would you do if I went over to Emma right now and intimidated the fuck out of her? Put the fear of God into her—or in my case, the devil—and made her feel like she was as small as an ant that I could easily crush with my shoe. What would you do, Colt?”
I snatch his grip off me and stare him dead in the eye.
“I’d fucking break every bone in your goddamn body with a fucking smile on my face.”
“I thought so. That’s love, motherfucker. Welcome to the club.”
My rapid heartbeat settles when his silver eyes turn from hellish retribution to the brotherly fondness I’ve been accustomed to since I was a kid. The need to apologize for my behavior with Scarlett burns in my throat, finally understanding his rage. However, when Kennedy’s squeal behind us, my apology gets cut short.
“Let me see it again.”
I turn around and watch Stone and Ken fawn over the largest rock I have ever seen on a woman’s finger.
“Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you. I asked Scarlett to marry me over Christmas. As you can see, she said yes.”
“Congratulations,” I mumble, saddened that I wasn’t there for such a monumental occasion in Easton’s life.
His brows furrow in guilt.
“I didn’t mean to do it when you weren’t there, Colt. I thought I’d pop the question after graduation, but then Christmas came, and I thought, why wait? When you know, you know. And I’ve known since I was thirteen years old. I think I’ve waited long enough.”
With his proclamation of love still ringing in my ears, my gaze travels through the sea of people in the ballroom, only stopping when it finally locks on the woman who has my heart in a vise grip.
“Yeah, I get that.”
His eyes follow mine, chuckling when he realizes where my mind went.
“I guess you do, don’t you?” He squeezes my shoulder affectionately. “Who would have guessed there was a heart beating under that cold exterior after all?”
“If there is, then it’s hers.”
“Holy fuck,” he snickers but quickly hides it under a false cough. “You must have got it bad, son, if you’re saying cheesy shit like that. Mazel Tov, brother.”
“Finn! Finn! Come here, boy, and talk some sense into Price,” Hank Walker calls out.
“How much do you want to bet it has to do with the new running back hired by Chapel Hill,” Finn grumbles under his breath before walking over to his father.
“So Walker finally caved, huh? He’s back to talking to his old man?” I ask Stone while observing a proud Hank Walker trying to wrap his arm around Finn’s broad shoulders.
“Finn kind of felt he had to after all his dad has done for my family.”
When the confused expression surfaces on my face, making it crystal clear that I have no clue what she’s on about, Stone elaborates.
“That’s right. You’ve been MIA lately, so you don’t know what’s been going on. Charlene told Finn’s dad that my father is getting out of prison. His hearing is in five days, and we all expect him to come home after the Richfield foundation completely made the DA and sheriff’s department look like incompetent jackasses. Since Charlene told him how worried she was that my mom and dad would still be living on the Southside, Hank immediately went into action and bought them a house close to theirs. He even has job offers lined up for my dad when he gets out. I think it was a play to tug at Quarterback’s heartstrings, but it worked. It also helped that Hank gave Finn a heartfelt apology for his past behavior.”
“I guess old man Walker knew he screwed the pooch and had to go to extremes to get on Finn’s good side again.”
“We all make mistakes. It’s how you try to remedy them that matters.”
“So does that mean Finn and you are moving out of Linc’s place?”
“We already have. We found this cute little apartment close to school and moved in last week,” she beams, a crimson blush dusted on her cheeks.
“Well, look at you guys all grown up. New house. New job. Or did you not take Maxwell’s job offer?”
“No, I did. I started a few weeks ago.”
“And how has that been working for you?”
I don’t miss how Stone discreetly looks over at Kennedy before she replies.
“It’s been educating.”
Before I’m able to ask what she means by that, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Linc: Meet me in your room
“Ladies, I’ve been summoned. Do you mind looking after Emma for a minute?”
I leave them to it, confident that Em will be in good hands while I go in search of my cousin. When I get to my bedroom, Lincoln’s pissed off expression added with the letter in his hands tells me all I need to know about this impromptu convo.
“Got another one, I see?”
“You did,” he snarls, his ocean stare so deep it threatens to swallow me under its tide. “Since The Society has always taken advantage of leaving a letter whenever there’s been a big party, I thought it best to case your room to see if anyone came near it,” he explains, dropping the letter on my mattress.
Guess I’m burning that shit now.
“And did you see anyone?” I ask, careful to keep a wide berth from my volatile cousin.
“No.” He shakes his head. “When I got here, the letter was already on top of your bed. But you were the one that should have been here, Colt. Not me.”
“Are you pissed at The Society or me, cuz?”
“Right now, at both. Why haven’t you been answering my calls?”
“I’ve been busy over at Emma’s.” I shrug nonchalantly.
“Fuck, Colt!” He throws his arms in the air. “While you’ve been playing house, The Society has been getting restless. Read it.”
He picks the nefarious envelope and jams it into my grip. I take the letter out, trying to prepare myself for whatever fucked-up thing I’m about to read. But as each line blurs in my vision, all I can think about is the golden-eyed woman waiting for me downstairs and what their threat means to her.
“You better have some good leads, Colt, because I don’t know what they’ll pull next if they don’t get their way. Were you able to get anything out of the professor?”
“Her name is Emma,” I reply defensively, crumbling the letter in my hand and throwing it to the floor. I don’t have to look at my cousin to feel his searing stare at me.
“And has Emma given you any idea of who The Society is yet?” he questions, his tone less heated.
I sit on the edge of the bed, loosening my bow tie.
“Yeah. She has her suspicions.”
“And what might those be?”
“That we’re fucked, cuz.”
“More than we are now?” he goads lightly, sitting next to me.
“She thinks… fuck just saying this shit out loud gets me nauseous. She thinks it’s our family that founded The Society. Emma believes my dad is a member and, well, that you are one, too.”
“Me?” He slaps his hand on his chest.
“That’s what I said. And I got to say cuz, from all her in-depth research, I’
m not sure I don’t believe her.”
I then enter in rant mode and tell him everything Emma discovered in her search to unmask our sworn enemy. From her parents’ death and what originated her interest, to the book she found in Charlotte, and finally, to the ledger entry she read right here in this very house. I spit it all out at rapid speed, hoping Linc can keep up with my manic explanation.
Lincoln doesn’t even flinch at what I’m saying, preferring to keep silent throughout until he’s sure I’ve told him all I know.
“It does make sense, doesn’t it?” he muses afterward, rubbing his chin in reflective thought. “Our family has always had its secrets. This being one of them doesn’t surprise me.”
“Do you think they would hurt us because we whacked Crawford? Cause I don’t see it. My father never liked your piece of shit dad, so as far as I’m concerned, we did him a favor.”
“Hmm. True. But that’s if we’re assuming your father is a member.”
“As much as I hate my old man, I don’t see him being this sadistic and cruel.”
“Me neither. Uncle Owen wouldn’t have the stomach for it, but then again, he’s always been prone to secrets.”
We both fall silent, staring at my carpet, wondering how things got so fucked up that we don’t know left from right, up from down?
“What are we going to do, Linc? Do we tell the guys that the fuckers behind blackmailing us might be… well… us?”
I think about Naomi Price’s sex tape and how East would never forgive me if he thought somehow I could have stopped it from being leaked out.
“Let me think on it. I have to make sense of this because right now, I’m having difficulty in seeing the whole picture.”
“If you can’t see it, then we are all screwed.”
“Just give me time to piece this all together. I’ll come up with something.”
“What do I do about Emma in the meantime?”
“What do you want to do about Emma?” he retorts knowingly.
“I don’t want to send her away, Linc. But if she has to leave Asheville, then I’m going with her.”
“Yeah, I thought as much.” He sighs. “Maybe that isn’t a bad thing, Colt. Maybe you two can start fresh somewhere where they can’t touch you.”
“Her parents were killed in Boston. I think The Society’s reach is pretty extensive. Besides, my family all lives here.”
“But that’s just it, Colt. Maybe it’s our family you should be running away from. Think about Emma. Don’t put her life at risk needlessly.”
“Are you telling me to leave?” My chest tightens at the idea of leaving him behind to deal with these fuckers alone.
“I’m telling you to do what’s right for you, brother. I don’t think it’s a question of us handing ourselves to the police anymore. If it was, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
In other words, he would march downstairs right now and confess what happened when his parents died that fateful night if he thought it would spare me The Society’s wrath.
I get up from the bed and walk to the door.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“I think I’ll stay here for a while longer just to get my head on straight.”
“Okay.” As I’m about to head for the door, he calls out my name.
“Colt.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m happy you found her at last. Finding your other half is rare, cousin. Treasure her and remind Emma that your heart isn’t whole without her.”
“How did you know?” I ask tentatively, gobsmacked at how well he can read me.
“Love has a way of branding us. It leaves a mark. Just be careful who you let see it.”
I give him a curt nod and leave him to wrestle with his tormented thoughts, knowing he’s speaking from experience.
As I’m about to walk over to the staircase, I see familiar silhouettes down the hall and away from the bustling party taking place in the ballroom on the floor below. Ever so discreetly, I watch Scarlett show my father her engagement ring. He pulls her in a bear hug, mumbling something in her ear that I can’t decipher from where I’m standing. She then breaks away from him and heads back down to the party at rapid speed.
I keep myself hidden behind a grotesque statue my mother considers to be art and silently wait for my father to pass me by. From afar, he looked like the same carefree man I grew up with my entire life. It’s only when he draws nearer do I see tears in his forest green eyes, filled with two contradicting sentiments that have afflicted my soul of late.
Utter joy.
And complete misery.
Chapter 26
Emma
“Emma, this is Lincoln,” Colt introduces, his demeanor taut and apprehensive.
“I’m very pleased to meet you.”
I offer to shake Lincoln’s hand, but he surprises me by bowing down and planting a soft kiss on mine instead. I look over at Colt beside me, his impassive face giving me no insight into what he’s thinking.
“The pleasure is all mine, Emma. My cousin tells me you’ve been trying to meet me for quite some time now.”
“Has he?” I slant my eyes at Colt, making a gentle note in my head to have a little conversation with him on boyfriend and girlfriend protocol.
Jesus, Emma!
Did you just refer to Colt Turner as your boyfriend?
You’re as bad as he is now.
I shake the thought away and concentrate on the blond, blue-eyed man that is a total contrast from the one I’ve given my heart to. While Colt’s eyes are clear green meadows, his cousin holds a vast lonesome sea in his. Lincoln’s stare is so profound and blue that you feel you might drown in his deep watery abyss.
“How about we three go sit on the patio outside? The fireworks are bound to begin in an hour or so. I believe that gives us plenty of time for us to get to know each other better.”
I offer him a tight nod, squeezing Colt’s hand in mine with promises of retribution for his big mouth. Shoulder to shoulder, we walk through a large oval exit that leads to the mansion’s backyard—if you can even call it that. This whole lavish affair feels like someone ripped a page out of The Great Gatsby novel and spun it into life. Their backyard is no exception—donned in beautiful décor, the lights twinkling on the vast horizon are sure to give the stars above a run for their money tonight. When the Richfields throw a party, they don’t half-ass it, that’s for goddamn sure.
Lincoln heads to a private corner of the large patio and takes a seat in one of the plush divans, indicating we join him. My mind is working double-time to summon any topic that can be construed as harmless small talk when Lincoln surprises me yet again by going to the quick of it.
“Colt tells me you’re writing a book about secret societies. He also indicated that you believe I might be a member of one. Is that true?” he questions mirthfully as he waves a passing waiter to bring us some champagne.
“You Richfield men,” I smirk, shaking my head, “always so straight forward when the topic interests you.”
“If you believe me to be a part of such a secretive organization, then me speaking my mind so unreservedly should be a trait in complete contrast to your assumptions. Not in favor of them.”
“The best liars are usually known for telling the truth. That’s what makes them so good at it.”
He smiles. His grin is not condescending in any way, but it is telling.
“I’ll keep that in mind. I have to say, it’s a pity I’ve never been to any of your classes. I think I would have learned much from you.”
“I thought you said this conversation was for us to learn more about each other. I don’t need a classroom to teach a lesson.”
Another broad smile.
“I can see why he fell for you.”
“That must have been one hell of a talk you two had together.” I blush, unprepared to receive such a compliment. “Some things shouldn’t be so openly discussed.”
“Colt doesn’t keep any
secrets from me,” Linc deadpans.
“Can he say the same of you?” I quip back with an arched brow.
I feel Colt’s body go stiff next to me, but he never once interjects into the conversation.
“He can. In fact, he’s the only one who can.”
My forehead wrinkles at his bleak remark.
“Sounds lonely.”
“It can be.”
This time the tug to his upper lip isn’t as lighthearted. There is a flash of sorrow that holds him hostage, but just as quickly as it dominated his entire face, it disappears from view once the waiter arrives with our drinks.
“Somehow, we’ve managed to deviate from the real topic that piqued my interest about you. Although I personally believe it’s nothing more than an urban legend, I am intrigued enough to want to understand why you think I could somehow be involved in The Society? Is it because of my bloodline? If that’s your only justification, then wouldn’t Colt be a member, too?”
“I thought so too once.”
Colt’s head swings in my direction, with my admission.
“Don’t worry, Colt.” I squeeze his thigh reassuringly. “After having you as a student for one week in my class, I knew you could never be a member. The Society’s whole foundation is based on selflessness. And you, my love, don’t share in the same values.”
“I’m a selfish prick. I own it. And if that makes me less desirable to those fuckers then I call that a win.”
“So what Colt told me is true. You honestly believe that The Society is good at their core?” Lincoln adds inquisitively.
I don’t miss how suddenly Lincoln is no longer putting up pretenses that The Society is just another glorified myth.
“I do.”
“Hmm. That’s disappointing. I can’t in good faith put any belief that an organization who punishes people for their worst mistakes in life to be morally good in any way.”
“They only punish those who refuse to redeem themselves. Mercy is given to those who seek it.”
Lincoln’s scathing stare sends a fearful chill down my spine.
“Linc,” Colt utters with a stern tone.
