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

by Ivy Fox

“Right.” He clears his throat by taking a sip of champagne. “I’m getting sidetracked. Like I was saying, neither Colt nor I have ever had any contact with such an organization. So here lies the issue. You told Colt that you believe it was a Richfield ancestor who founded The Society. If that indeed is the case, then why have neither one of us heard about it?”

  “You’re not the first sons,” I explain confidently.

  “Colt is. He’s the only male heir in his side of the family.”

  “He is, but we already established his many faults.”

  “Again, I’m not offended,” Colt snickers.

  “That means you think my brother Teddy could have been involved.”

  “I don’t know much of your late brother’s character to give an informed opinion, but it’s the most likely conclusion, yes.”

  “And in your eyes, my uncle Owen is also a member, is that right?”

  “I believe so, yes.”

  “You’re wrong, Em. My dad is too busy being a two-timing asshole to also be involved in The Society. And anyway, you’re the one who says they only want goody two shoes in their stupid boys’ club. How does a cheating prick fit into that equation?”

  “Even JFK had his extramarital affairs, and yet he is still remembered fondly as one of the all-time great presidents of this nation. His moral code was never put into question.”

  “Linc?” Colt throws him an unreadable gaze.

  Lincoln rubs his chin in contemplation, his long hair falling to his eyes while taking all my insights in.

  There is one more piece of information that has been gnawing at me. If Linc really isn’t a member of The Society as he claims, then it’s only right I share it with him.

  “There’s something else,” I begin, hoping not to open up old wounds with what I’m about to tell him. “It’s about your parents.”

  Both Linc and Colt go pale at the mention of them. I expected as much since their passing wasn’t so long ago.

  “What about them?”

  “I’m aware that the Asheville Sheriff’s department is having difficulty in finding clues that will lead to their murders. It pains me to say this to you, Lincoln, but I’m afraid they will never bring your parents’ murderers to justice.”

  “Why do you say that, Em?” Colt asks beside me, dread tarnishing his beautiful emerald eyes.

  I swallow dryly, facing his cousin instead, knowing this will hurt him more than Colt.

  “If my research is correct, then just as Colt’s father is a member of The Society, your father must have been one also, Lincoln. His death, combined with your mother’s—an actual Richfield heir—would have gained The Society’s scorn. To explain it plainly, whoever killed your parents has their days accounted for. The Society will make sure of it—if they haven’t already.”

  The awkward heavy silence that follows makes me regret that I had to be the bearer of such bad news. I know how devastating it is not to be able to bring the responsible culprits for a death of a loved one to justice. In my case, I forgave The Society for their part in my parents’ demise a long time ago, blaming the wrongdoings of Judge O’Keefe instead. Unfortunately, Lincoln won’t be so fortunate. Hopefully, with time, he’ll heal knowing that someone else sought out justice for him.

  “You know what? How about we talk about something else?” I state anxiously wanting to move past this somber topic since both men look like someone just punched them in the gut. “I’ve heard marvelous things about the Richfield Foundation, Lincoln. I’m extremely curious as to what your contribution to it has been this year.”

  It takes him a bit to snap out of his stupor, but thankfully he grabs the lifeline of this new topic and rolls with it. For the following hour, he talks animatedly about his philanthropy works, successfully decimating the previous dreary atmosphere.

  “Lincoln.” We hear a soft voice call out.

  We all turn around, a pretty brunette, shyly tugging a lock of hair behind her ear as she makes googly eyes over at our table.

  “Who’s that?” Colts asks as his cousin stands to his feet.

  “That would be my date.”

  “Date?” Colt repeats, surprised. “Does Ken know you came with a date tonight?”

  “Not yet. But I doubt it will bother her,” Linc counters, taking the last sip of his champagne. “She’s getting married, right?”

  Colt’s expression softens as he takes in his cousin’s stoic expression.

  “It’s the right move, cuz. It’s time.”

  Linc nods sternly and then directs his attention back to me.

  “It was lovely to meet you, Emma. I hope to see much more of you in the future.”

  “Oh, you will.” Colt hugs my shoulder to him.

  Lincoln walks off to his date, pressing a friendly kiss to her cheek when he reaches her.

  “Ken is going to blow a gasket. Come on, Em. We don’t want to be anywhere near this place when she sees that shit.”

  “Where are we going?” I laugh as he pulls me off the couch.

  “We’re going for a stroll, babe.”

  Colt takes me by the hand as we walk over to the large hedge maze at the very center of his yard. The green branches are all covered in twinkling lights giving it a storybook fairy tale feel to it.

  “Are you upset with me, Em?” he asks as we go inside.

  “If you keep calling me babe, I will be.” I tease him.

  “You secretly love it. Just admit it,” he jokes, kissing my neck.

  “But seriously, are you pissed that I told Linc about what you’ve been up to?”

  “I was at first. But then I saw you two together. There’s a strong bond between the two of you, beyond cousin affection, isn’t there?”

  “I look up to him. I know we’re almost the same age, but he’s still the best man I know.”

  “Is that the only reason you admire him?”

  “Linc hasn’t had an easy life. Worse than mine, if you can imagine it. But he’s never let it bring him down. He’s always been a rock for all of us, even when his own life was a shitshow.”

  “Hmm.”

  “But enough talk about my cousin. Or do you want me to get jealous?”

  “Could you even get jealous?” I laugh. “That doesn’t sound like the cocky, self-confident man I know.”

  “You have no idea.” He growls playfully, wrapping his arms around my waist. “When it comes to you, I can get real possessive.”

  “Is that so?”

  “You bet your pretty ass it is.” He nods, his eyes sparkling with desire.

  “Hmm. You can’t be possessive of what isn’t yours,” I tease, breaking free from his hold, sprinting into a run. “If you want that kiss at midnight, you better hurry up and catch me.”

  I run through the hedge maze, laughing all the while he runs after me. My heels are no match for his long legs, and before I know it, I’m being flung in the air laughing so hard my stomach hurts. The slit in my dress lets me wrap my legs around him, his gentle grip already at my throat.

  “Now, what was that you were saying about you not being mine?” His searing lustful stare so intense, I’m left breathless and wanting.

  My lashes flutter as I get lost in his loving gaze, unable to contain the feeling inside my heart any longer.

  “I am yours, Colt. It’s reckless and foolish to fall so quickly like this, but I am—completely and utterly yours.”

  His gaze softens still, his hold on me tightening.

  “I love you, Em. Don’t let me fuck this up,” he responds with genuine vulnerability in his tone.

  “You won’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I won’t let you. I promise.”

  “I’m going to hold you to it, babe.” He smirks before tipping my chin up so he can kiss me.

  As his lips press against mine, as sounds of fireworks spark up the night with light and color, yet none of it is as beautiful as this one moment where we bare our souls to one another. Our love mi
ght be rash, reckless, and too sudden for it to make sense to anyone else, but it’s still real.

  And it’s still ours.

  No one can take that away.

  After we break away from each other, Colt groans placing my feet on solid ground.

  “Let’s go back to the party before I fuck you right here.”

  I laugh at his uncharacteristic restraint, knowing he’s not giving in to his basic urges because he’s not sure who might catch us if he does. Good thing, too, since before we make it out of the hedge maze, we bump into a very intoxicated Owen Turner, roaming aimlessly about with a bottle in his hand.

  “Well, look at what we have here—if it isn’t my dearest son and his new conquest. I’m glad to see you finally found someone who grabbed your attention for longer than a weekend, Colt. I was starting to wonder if that would ever happen in my lifetime.”

  “You’re drunk,” Colt sneers, hugging me protectively at his side.

  “Yes. Yes. I might have overly indulged in tonight’s open bar more than I should. But I’m not too drunk to give out some fatherly advice.”

  He hiccups, slapping Colt’s cheek repeatedly in a playful manner.

  “Just spit it out, old man.”

  Colt slaps his father’s hand away, taking a step back for his father. Owen’s inebriated gaze sloppily falls to me for a few seconds and then returns back up to Colt.

  “Never love a woman who can’t love you back the same way. If you do decide to give your heart, be sure the one you love reminds you that you still have a soul instead of making you sacrifice it away. Trust me, son, our soul is too high a price to pay in the name of love.”

  “Are you done?”

  “Ah. My dear sweet boy, my life was done for a long time ago.”

  Chapter 27

  Colt

  Another Saturday night wasted because of a fucking party I have to attend at the Richfield Country Club. Like clockwork, Asheville likes to do one of these kiss-ass parties once a month. Tonight’s candidate to have the Northside elite pucker up and kiss his lily-white ass is the new district attorney who is rumored to be more corrupt than the scum bags he’s vowed to put away. I’m so sick of having to put on a fake smile along with a stupid ass tuxedo just because my family’s presence is always mandatory at these god-awful things. My skin crawls in disgust with every second that I have to put up with this charade, but unfortunately for me, my mother would have my ass if I dared to sneak home early.

  I hate to say it, but sometimes I wish I could be more like Meredith. She always knows how to behave on these occasions. But then again, that’s probably why she’s Mom’s favorite. If Lincoln were here, then at least he’d entertain me enough that I wouldn’t want to bash my brains against the wall just because I’m bored half to death. But as my gaze lands on his parents’ table, seeing Kennedy sitting so close to Teddy, I understand why he preferred not to come tonight.

  Even the strongest stomach couldn’t handle seeing that shit.

  Once the four-course meal is finished with—a dinner I barely touched with the fucking view I had in front of me—everyone jumps out of their seats to mingle. I take that as my cue to get some fresh air. I sure the fuck need it since the air I have been breathing into my lungs is as stale as the conversations I had to endure listening to for the past two hours.

  When I pass the country club’s doors, I smirk when I see the dark prince already out here, sneaking in a cigarette.

  “If Price catches you smoking, he’s going to make you swallow the damn thing.”

  “Dick can blow me,” he retorts, puffing up smoke in the air.

  “Those fucking things will kill you, you know?” I reprimand, unable to understand how anyone would willingly poison their body with such filth. But then again, this is Easton we’re talking about. He’s never had much appreciation for his life.

  “Spare me the lecture. I get enough of them from Finn.”

  “Where is Walker anyway? I haven’t seen him all night.”

  “Football practice.”

  Lucky bastard.

  “Maybe I should take up football if it means I don’t have to come to these things anymore.”

  “Like you’d ever risk hurting your face.” Easton chuckles.

  “True. It would be a goddamn shame to mess with perfection.”

  “Vain fuck,” Easton goads, throwing his head back to blow perfect gray circles into the night sky.

  The sound of heels coming our way makes us both turn around simultaneously to see who also decided they had enough of the partying crowd inside. Kennedy pulls at the elastic that has her blond hair trapped in a bun, cursing under her breath when she finally manages to get free.

  “What’s up, Ken? Not having a good time with your date?”

  She throws me a scathing look as she tries to untangle her golden locks.

  “Shut it, Colt. I’m in no mood to deal with you tonight.”

  “Ouch.” I press my open palm to my chest. “Is that any way to talk with your favorite future cousin? From what your father has been telling everyone with ears tonight, it seems like you and Teddy are fucking engaged already, rather than just hooking up.”

  “First of all, we are not hooking up. And secondly, my father likes to exaggerate. He always has.”

  “But you are dating him?” Easton asks point-blank, never one to beat around the bush.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” She huffs out despondent, giving up on taming her hair.

  “You don’t look so thrilled about it,” Easton continues to probe, trying to coax more details out of her.

  “Can we please talk about something else?! Please? Why didn’t Lincoln show up tonight?”

  “Ask your boyfriend. I’m sure he knows,” I sneer.

  It still boggles the mind how Ken, of all people, could ever date that creep. And worst of all, she knowingly did it, fully aware of the pain it would inflict on Lincoln. Not so long ago, I thought that my feelings for Ken were just as strong as my cousin’s. The day I realized all I had was a schoolboy crush on the girl who didn’t give me the time of day was a godsend as well as one hell of a rude awakening. Because on that same day, I found out just what it meant to truly love someone.

  Love, true love, is what Lincoln feels for Kennedy.

  And because of it, his life will now be riddled with nothing but misery and suffering.

  I vowed that day that love would never get its ugly claws into me. Not if I can help it.

  When Kennedy’s bottom lip begins to quiver, and her crystal blue eyes look away—so neither East nor I can’t see the shame and anguish in them—it’s like a sucker punch to the gut.

  Fuck.

  I might not like the fact that she’s dating the prick, but she’s still my best friend. When one of us hurts, we all feel it. It’s always been this way. It’s not going to change now just because she got herself mixed up with Teddy.

  “Come here, Ken,” I whisper softly, opening my arms out for her.

  She hesitates at first, but when I offer her a gentle smile showing her I’m not pissed anymore, she instantly leans into my shoulder, letting me hug her.

  “Life sucks,” she mumbles.

  “Preach, darling,” Easton utters besides us, with his god-awful attempt at a southern accent.

  Her body continues to tremble against me, and it’s only when I hear her sniffle that I realize she’s crying.

  “You crying, Ken?” East asks, his silver eyes growing wide at the sight.

  Ken never cries.

  Not even when her mom passed away did she shed a tear. She hates looking vulnerable in any capacity. Maybe it’s because she grew up with us four guys as her best friends, or maybe it’s just her way of trying to be the strong one of our little group. Whatever her reasoning, crying is a big no-no for Ken. But as she lifts her head, trying to clean away the mascara streaks running down her apple cheeks, there’s no denying she’s in a world of pain.

  “Shit. Let’s get you cleaned up before anyone
sees you like this. Stay here, East. If anyone asks where we are, make up an excuse.”

  “Got it.”

  I keep her close to me as we both walk back inside. Instead of taking her to the communal bathrooms on the ground floor, I take her upstairs to a private one. When we get close to its door, she places a palm to my chest, stopping my next step.

  “What’s wrong?”

  But before she can answer, I hear moans coming from inside the bathroom, indicating that someone must have ditched the party below for a quickie upstairs.

  “Colt,” Ken whispers, pulling my hand back. “We should leave.”

  “Are you kidding? And miss the show? Aren’t you curious to see which uptight socialite is getting freaky in there?” I ask, thinking a little juicy gossip like this might lift Ken’s spirits.

  “God, you are such a horndog,” she castigates, but there is a small smile on the corner of her lips that wasn’t there before.

  “Come on, Ken. Just a tiny look so we know who it is.”

  “Fine. We’ll have a little peek, but I’m running if they realize we’re watching.”

  “They won’t.” I wink.

  Ever so slowly, I turn the knob, happy to see that in their haste to fuck, the couple forgot to lock the door behind them. Careful not to make a sound, I push the door just enough to look inside. When I see a familiar reflection coming from the bathroom mirror, my whole body freezes in place.

  Nothing could have prepared me for this.

  With her dress up to her waist, the new district attorney’s wife is being pounded from behind by none other than my fucking father. My whole body shakes with fury as I continue to hear her moan in delight, yelling that she’s cumming while my father’s eyes remain sealed shut, with an expression unlike anything I’ve ever seen on his face before. He doesn’t look like he’s in the middle of throes of passion. He looks angry. So fucking angry that all he can do is punish the woman underneath him by impaling her with his cock.

  Kennedy pulls my hand away from the door, closing it shut. I only realize that I’m the one crying now when she wipes the tears from my face. She grabs me by the hand, and in my catatonic state, I follow her lead downstairs.