by Liv Reid
He tosses me into the open mouth of the coffin. It’s soft and plush inside, but it’s still a fucking coffin and I don’t want to be in here. I struggle to sit up, but it’s hard with my hands tied behind my back.
Logan looks down at me like an evil king, one hand on the lid, like he is carefully deciding his judgement of a lowly commoner.
“I hate you, Violet Miller,” he says with deadly calm.
“I hate you too,” I snap.
“Welcome back,” he says, then slams the lid closed, and I’m plunged into darkness.
12
L
I leave her locked down there and storm back up to the party.
Hope you aren’t claustrophobic, Violet—actually, I hope you are. You deserve it. You deserve to be scared.
I rake my fingers through my hair in frustration and grab someone else’s drink from a waiter passing by. I down it and then put the empty glass back on his tray, as the waiter looks at me in shock. I don’t care.
Josie spots me and starts hurrying over. Fuck. I don’t want to deal with her right now. I walk over to another corner of the room and duck behind a curtain. I open the door to the secret study hidden there and go in. I don’t bother turning on the lights. I just need a moment to collect myself.
I’m shaken, and it usually takes a lot to rattle me. What is that little liar doing to me?
She looked so fucking hot down there it was insane. That stupid tight silver dress was hugging all her curves in just the right places. She turned me on the second I walked into the party—but seeing her in that dress, tied to a chair in front of me, her breath quick, her tits heaving against the thin fabric, that was a whole different level. I’ve been rock hard ever since I walked into that room downstairs and saw her.
I growl in frustration. I don’t want this. I want to torture her, to make her pay for what she’s done to my father, what she’s done to my family. I want to destroy her mind, not crave her body.
I turn on the light and go over to the cabinet with the secret stash of whiskey. I need to numb this pain. The pain of wanting someone so rotten, so toxic. The pain of wanting Violet Miller.
I wasn’t surprised by what she said. I know she will deny everything until the end—she’s that good—but the way she fought me, rebelled against me, it turned me on more than her hot little body in that dress. That’s worse. That’s her. Wanting a sexy woman’s body, that’s nothing. That doesn’t mean anything, it’s just biology. But getting turned on by her actions, by the things she says, that’s her, and that’s a hell of a lot more dangerous.
I wanted to threaten her and scare her away. The stupid Dark Society ritual was just a lucky break. The vice president of the club always chooses the new member to undergo the trial, so it was obvious who I was going to pick—the new girl who torments my mind and tried to destroy my family. I didn’t count on her standing up to me like she did though.
Fuck.
I down another glass and refill it. I need to head back out there and take care of my “duties”. Sometimes I hate being the VP of this club. My parents both told me I had to. They said I had a duty to uphold to the family and needed to finally pull my weight. This is more my brother’s thing. He’s always been the star of the family. The perfect son. Quarterback. Charming. Popular. Prom King. Then there was just me, alone in the shadows.
I never cared about having people like me or not, but after I got here—with a lot of pressure from my parents—I begrudgingly started trying. I never realized how unbelievably easy it is. Flash a smile, flirt a little, tell a joke, and people swarm around you like you’re a goddamn king. It’s insane how simple it is. I still resent that I have to do it though. And I don’t care about any of the people who are drawn to me because of it. I don’t respect that they can’t see through the lie.
I sigh deeply. Time to go back out there and turn on the charm, continue the act, make my family proud and continue our legacy. I snort resentfully and take another deep gulp. The whiskey burns like liquid fire as it slides down my throat. It settles in my stomach and joins the fire that’s already there, the one Violet ignited.
I walk back out into the room. Everyone is mingling and laughing and sucking up to the old alumni. I think they are pathetic. The second I leave this place, I’m never coming back. These people run multi-billion dollar companies. Do they not have anything better to do with their time than come back here and have their asses kissed by a bunch of freshmen?
I walk around, surveying the room. I am not in the mood to mingle, but “we have to keep up appearances”. I see Rhett and a couple of guys talking by the bar, so I head over to join them.
Bethany spots me on the way, and I groan. I do not want to deal with her right now. She comes up to me and slips her arm into mine.
“Heard you’ve been seeing a lot of Josie lately,” my ex says quietly with a big, fake smile on her face.
“That’s none of your business.” I put on a fake smile as well and nod at the people who greet me as they pass by.
“Do you care about her?”
“You know I don’t.”
A real smile spreads across her lips, and she leans up to kiss me on the cheek. “Good.”
She turns to go back to her group of fawning subjects. She looks good tonight, I’ll give her that. She’s wearing a long black dress that shows off her great tits and tall model body. But there’s only one girl I want tonight, and it’s the one I’ll never let myself have.
I join Rhett and the others. After a minute, Rhett gets a huge grin on his face.
“Looks like your prey isn’t as helpless as you thought,” he says and motions towards the other side of the room.
“Huh?” I ask, as I turn around.
Violet.
She walks into the room through the velvet curtain. Her long hair is messy, her cheeks are flushed and there’s fire and brimstone in her eyes. She looks unfathomably sexy.
There are delicate red marks on her wrists. She must have struggled out of her bindings and escaped. Clever girl.
She sees me, and her eyes narrow into hateful slits. My pants grow tight. Fuck.
She doesn’t storm over to me like I think she will—like I want her to—but goes straight to Everly, who hugs her and asks if she’s ok.
I turn back to our conversation, but I can’t concentrate on what the guys are saying—and Rhett can tell. He’s got a big, stupid smile on his punchable face, like he can read my mind and knows it’s consumed with Violet.
She avoids me for the rest of the party, and I avoid her. She’s sticking close to Everly and watching me warily, angrily.
She wasn’t going to die in that box. I was just going to leave her in there until the end of the party. It was way longer than that ritual ever lasts. Usually the new member is in the coffin for ten minutes max., but no one would have argued with me. All the members of the Dark Society have to obey me—except Rogan.
I wanted to scare her. She deserves it. But I didn’t count on her escaping by herself. That was unexpected. I shouldn’t be surprised though. She’s a weasel, so it’s easy for her to weasel her way out of things.
The party starts to wind down early, around midnight. These old alumni can’t handle late hours anymore.
That’s when I notice something that makes my stomach clench. Everly has gone to the washroom and Violet is weaving around like she’s wasted out of her mind, but I know she’s not because I’ve been watching her all night and she’s only had a couple of drinks. Even if she was wasted, she wouldn’t have gone from fine one second to sloppy drunk the next. Something’s wrong.
I spot Byron Ruster, and by the way he’s staring intently at her, I think he slipped something in her drink. My suspicions are confirmed when Violet leaves the house, hugging on to the walls, and he follows after her. My heart sinks.
I should just leave it alone. It’s none of my business, and I know what my parents would say. Byron is one of the most powerful men in the world, and he could destroy my f
uture with one word. They wouldn’t want me risking getting on his bad side—but I don’t give a fuck about that. I may hate Violet Miller, but she doesn’t deserve to be assaulted by some pathetic loser who can’t get chicks to sleep with him without drugging them unconscious.
I growl in frustration, and then quickly slip out of the house.
13
V
After I escaped from the coffin, Everly convinced me to stay. I wanted to go back to our room ASAP—getting put in a coffin was not my idea of fun—but she convinced me, and besides, I would be risking my scholarship by leaving. She assured me it was a normal part of the New Fall alumni celebration and every year one member goes through it. She apologized for not warning me in advance, and when she hugged me and asked if I was ok, she seemed so sincere it erased any suspicions I had of her.
We hung out the rest of the night and mostly kept to ourselves, with the occasional interruption from Rogan—who annoyingly keeps seeming to forget who I am. Logan was watching me the entire time. I could feel his eyes always on the back of my neck.
The second I got out of the coffin, I wanted to run up and punch him in the face, or kick him in the balls. But when I did make it upstairs, I thought better of it. Everyone would just think I’m some poor, white trash girl who can’t handle her temper. I need to keep it together if I want to survive long enough to graduate. I’ll get Logan back, it just might not be tonight.
Around midnight, the evening is winding down, and I’m happy because I can’t wait to get out of here. I’m going to head home, slip into my pajamas and watch a movie.
“I’m just going to go to the washroom and then we can head out,” Everly says and disappears down a hall.
I stand there waiting for her to be done, when all of a sudden I feel the world spin. I reach out and grab the wall to steady myself. Whoa, what was that?
My head starts to feel cloudy, and I can’t make sense of my thoughts. Is this a migraine? I wonder. I’ve never experienced them like this before.
I’m suddenly so dizzy and disoriented I can barely stand upright. I’m not sure which way is up. The only thing keeping me grounded in reality is the wall I’m holding on to.
I feel so tired. I need to get out of here and go home. I start moving towards the door.
Where did all the sound go? I can only hear echos in my head and everything else is quiet.
I don’t know what happened, but I look around and I’m outside. It feels like I was teleported out here. I’m walking down the path, but I’m having trouble staying on my feet, and I’m so tired.
Something happened to me. I barely drank all night, so there’s no way this is from being drunk, and this is not like any migraine I’ve ever experienced before.
It must have been Logan.
He must have done something. Maybe he slipped something in my drink? Oh no. I need to get home quickly before he finds me.
I quicken my pace and almost stumble onto the grass. I’m hurrying, but I have no idea where I am. I don’t even know if I’m going the right way, but I just know I need to get away from him. He’s probably coming after me right now to do who knows what. Whatever it is, it won’t be good. He wants to make me suffer.
I try to run, but my feet aren’t behaving. I stumble. I’m so tired I could fall asleep standing upright. No. I need to keep going.
Suddenly, a strong pair of arms grabs me from behind. A large, rough hand clamps over my mouth so I can’t scream, and the person quickly drags me into the patch of bushes next to the path. I struggle, but my limbs feel like they weigh a million pounds, and the person holding me is so strong I have no chance.
“Shhhh,” a deep male voice whispers in my ear, and my heart sinks when I realize with dread that it’s Logan. He’s got me and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I’m at his mercy.
He holds me firmly. He’s crouching, while my knees are in the dirt. A far off thought drifts through my mind that I’m ruining Everly’s dress and I’ll never be able to afford to buy her a new one.
I start to struggle again, and Logan grips me even harder.
“Don’t move,” he whispers, and the tone of his voice makes me pause.
That’s when I see Byron Ruster coming down the path we were just on. He’s moving slowly and looking around intensely. He’s clearly trying to find something... or someone.
Realization hits me all at once, and I go limp against Logan. He supports me as we both watch Byron make his way closer to us.
When he’s right in front of us, I see him pause, and I stop breathing. He scans the area, his eyes like a shark, blank but predatory. I can tell he’s angry I got away, and that’s terrifying. If Logan hadn’t grabbed me when he did, then Byron would have gotten me for sure. I would have still been stumbling on that path, and he easily would have led me off. I shiver at the thought of what almost happened to me.
He continues down the path and out of sight. I start shaking uncontrollably.
“You ok?” Logan asks in a coarse whisper. He then reconsiders and tells me, “You’re ok.”
He helps me stand up and walk back to the house. I’m shaking so badly and so exhausted I can barely stay on my feet. Logan practically carries me up to the front door.
I hear Everly’s voice, but it sounds far away.
“I was wondering where she went. Is she ok??”
“Yeah, but I think Byron slipped something in her drink.” His voice echos around in my head.
“What the fuck? Are you serious?? We need to go to the cops!”
“NO,” I slur out.
I’ve only had bad experiences with cops. When my dad died, I had to endure endless interrogations that lasted for hours and hours—and it was all for nothing. They didn’t catch my dad’s killer and as far as I know they aren’t even trying anymore. Also, the last four years of working at Ricky’s Diner and living in a slum has ingrained a deep mistrust of the police in me.
“I just want to go home and go to bed,” I mumble.
“Are you sure?” Everly asks.
“Yes.”
I feel someone, who I assume is her, slip under my other arm. I lean all my weight on her, and she’s surprisingly strong.
“Are you able to manage?” Logan asks.
“I got her.”
Everly and I start walking. With her arm around my waist and mine draped over her shoulder, we manage to stumble clumsily back to our dorm. I don’t remember how I get up the stairs, but the next thing I remember is lying in my soft bed and realizing I’m finally safe.
She tucks me in and asks if I’m ok again. I nod and then pass out.
But before everything goes black, one last thought flashes through my mind. Why did Logan save me?
14
L
Why did I do that? It wasn’t any of my business. Who cares if that gross, old pervert assaulted her? But at the thought of that happening, I feel nauseated.
Seeing her leave, clearly weaving, and that guy follow her out, I just couldn’t let it happen. I don’t know why. She deserved it after everything she’s done to my family. But I couldn’t.
What is she doing to me?
I hate her.
My fist shoots out and hits the wall. The drywall collapses and my hand goes right through it. The pain hits a moment later, and I slowly pull it back out. Blood drips down my knuckles. It’s a physical reminder of the pain she’s caused me.
Just then, the door to the apartment flies open and slams into the wall. I look over, and Bethany is storming into the room. I groan in frustration.
“Fucking great,” I mutter. “Not now, Bethany.”
I go over to the kitchen to grab paper towels and wrap my bleeding knuckles.
“Why did you do that?” she asks.
“Do what?” I do not want to deal with her right now.
“Why did you help that trailer trash girl?”
“Fuck off, Bethany.”
“That was none of your business, but you rushed over to her like a
goddamn knight in shining armor. Byron was the most powerful guy at that party and you risked everything for what? For her?”
“You know what’s none of your business? Everything I do. I don’t want to be with you, so you need to fuck off and leave me alone.”
Her attitude suddenly changes. She came in here breathing fire and shooting daggers from her eyes, but the speed at which she does a complete change is unnerving. Her eyes grow soft, and her face looks almost warm.
“Listen, we are perfect for each other,” she says gently like she’s trying to explain something to someone who’s being unreasonable, and it pisses me off. “Do you have feelings for that girl?”
I scoff. “The only feelings I have for her are hatred for what she did to my father. For what she tried to do to my brother. Those are the only feelings I have.”
“I don’t believe you,” she says pointedly.
“Well, I don’t give a fuck what you believe.”
“She’s trash. Who cares if she wants to fuck some old guy for a car or something.”
“She was drugged. She wasn’t going with him willingly. And I told you about her before. I told you how much I hate her.”
“If you care about her so little, then why are you punching walls?” She motions to my hand. The blood has already seeped through the paper towel. “Look, I don’t care if you play around with coeds. I know that eventually we’ll be together. Better for you to get it out of your system now, but if you have feelings for that girl, I will destroy her.”
An image of a beautiful bird in a cage being slowly lowered into a bathtub of water flashes through my mind.
“I don’t care about her!” I practically shout, and it pisses me off that I can’t control my voice. I take a deep breath and regain control. “You can do whatever you want to her. I don’t care. Now, get the hell out of my room.”
She pauses for a minute, but sees the look in my eye and knows not to push me any further. She spins on her heel and is out the door, leaving it wide open.
