With those damning words, I swallow. It’s true. I don’t know why, but it is.
“Am I wrong?” he pushes, knowing I’m not answering him for a good reason.
“No.”
I don’t add or explain. I can’t. Something about them being together doesn’t turn me off or make me jealous, which makes zero sense. Them sharing me and me sharing them with one another should freak me out, disgust me even, but it makes my thighs clench and my body heat up.
He tilts my head ever so gently, his eyes boring into mine like he sees me. Not the Colt I’ve become, but the carefree one who had two loving parents, an older brother who loved her, and four guys vying for her attention. The Colt who didn’t know true heartbreak or pain. The soft Colton who wanted love and would experience the loss before the true gain.
“Kiss me, Corpse” he whispers, and I swear my heart momentarily stops at the huskiness in his voice. He’s asking, not pushing or taking, simply requesting with the intent of need and not to quiet me or scare me.
Just for me.
Wanting me.
“Kiss me first,” I reply breathily, waiting, anticipating, grasping for something.
“When a corpse and a man without a heart kiss, does he die?” He grips my jaw, and intoxicating warmth invades my skin. We’re separated simply by a battle of wills, him unwilling to plunge and me unable to succumb to him once more. “Or does she beat the odds and come back to life?”
“Lennox,” I barely whisper before his mouth is on me again.
It’s different this time. Softer. Kinder. Intentional. It’s not harsh and cruel, and the offset of our connection makes me ache in ways I shouldn’t. It builds and builds, and all I can do is relish the sensations before he undoubtedly returns to the Lux who’s always callous.
When he pulls away this time, his face only further confuses me. His eyes are closed, and his face is scrunched. Not in displeasure, no, more of disconcerting. It’s as if he’s as shocked and wondrous as I am about our connection.
It has never made sense.
When his hazel eyes connect with mine, I watch as they glimmer with confusion and lust, twining together like a puzzle, winding and winding as they attempt to unveil all the answers.
“You two done giving moony eyes?” Ten barks from the cabin’s doors.
I stare at his stiff posture and know he’s pissed. He has no right to be. His choices tore us apart, our relationship demolished by his actions, not mine.
“Be a good little bottom, Ten, and shut the fuck up,” Lux bites out.
With those scathing words, I’m barely able to keep my mouth and expression closed. There’s a story there, with all of them, and if it’s the last thing I do in my lifetime, I’ll learn every secret these guys hide.
Twenty-Five
“I’d wondered if you two fucked with how long you were alone, but even Lux over here isn’t a two-pump chump like Ten,” Jordan jests as soon as we're piled in the living room I kissed them all in a year ago.
“Fuck off, Walker,” Lux bites, sidestepping me to sit across the big table.
The room is still as it was. A massive coffee table rests in the center, engraved with the crest of Arcadia. It’s a darker wood, almost a black-brown. It fits their entire room of tastelessness.
The three couches make a large U, and the two recliners across the table close the odd circle. The interior of the place hasn’t changed. The legacies are lining the wall, awards, and bullshit plaques that make zero sense also cover the gaudy damask wallpaper.
We could be on the set of a Tim Burton film, and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. Even when all lit up, this place isn’t any less chilling than when dimly lit.
As we all sit, I’m once again left alone in the smallest love seat couch. This room, the feelings surrounding it, and the goddamn placement of people—sans Bridger—makes me uneasy. It’s like my initiation. The kisses. The lies. The thievery.
“Why are we here?” I break the bubble of silence. Unable to sit still, I move my leg to cross over the other then back again. I’m nervous.
Ross must’ve showered. He’s now fresh-faced. The only things showing it wasn’t a dream is his busted and swollen lips. They taunt me with their coloring, showing I’ve marked him, given him a little hostility in return. His lips tilt at me. He knows I’m analyzing them.
“We’re here because you want answers, and the Emeralds can’t have you searching anymore. You’re endangering us all.” Jordan speaks as if he’s a teacher explaining the most mundane of situations and not threatening me without using the words.
“You never answered my first questions. What makes me believe you’ll answer any?” The words come out discordant, uncharacteristically rude, even for me.
“Guess you’ve got to put on your big girl panties and hope for the best,” he deadpans.
“Fuck this,” I declare, standing and attempting to escape.
Before I get too far, Ross has a hand on my arm, and Ten is next to him, watching me, glaring, and pouting. Because that’s what it is. He’s pissed I’ve kissed several people. It’s obvious.
“Not so fast, Greenie,” Ten hisses. “Sit. Listen. Don’t fucking argue.”
Hearing such reproach from him isn’t something I’m used to. I hate it. It’s not like him. As asshole-y as he acts around them, there’s a soft guy with a heart twice the size of mine. It’s what always drew me to him in the first place.
He and Ross lead me back to the couch, reminding me of that night, making me wish I could erase it from my memories. That’s where this all got screwed up, where our paths intertwined, and I felt destined to crave all of them.
“What do you know about Emeralds?” Jordan asks.
Everyone stays silent. Lux doesn’t even look at me. His head is tipped back, avoiding this entire conversation. Ross sits on my right as Ten sits on my left, and Jordan opposite of us.
I think back to my first year here. Nothing clings about Emeralds, other than they’re a ghost story, a myth. No one really knows who they are. Hell, I didn’t even know these guys were involved. How stupid must I look?
How were you supposed to know?
“Absolutely nothing.”
Jordan nods, rubbing his chin and standing. He makes his way out of the room, and I hear him rifling around for something before he’s back. In his hands is a leather-bound scrapbook. It’s old but in pristine condition. It looks more like a photo book than a scrapbook.
“Here,” he sounds out, offering it to me, but I stare at it like he’s nuts. When I don’t reach out, he comes closer and places it in my lap. “Look.”
The book weighs a ton. It takes a few seconds to grasp that they really want me to read whatever this is. On the front it’s inscribed with Latin. Limpieza de Sangre.
“Purifying the Blood,” Lux states numbly, void of any emotion.
There are snapdragons entwined with snakes, serpents and their fruitful blooms, almost like a crest or emblem. It looks familiar, but I can’t seem to place where I’ve seen it before.
“What does that entail?” I ask.
“We keep the bloodlines pure. The founding families of Arcadia are the only members,” he mildly explains. “Males of the bloodlines, that is.”
“This is stupid,” I mutter aloud. What are they, barbarians? Old aristocratic douchebags who have to have a lineage line back to the seventeenth century?
“It may sound pretentious, but it’s just how it is around here,” Lux says.
“So, Emeralds are like a fucking frat house?”
“No,” Jordan practically spits. “We’re a sodality of the rich and powerful. We have a purpose.”
“And what’s that? To gang bang?” I mock, not understanding what the fuck they can possibly do here that merits an old book detailing all of the members, their bloodlines, and purposes throughout the group.
“Don’t be so goddamn naïve, Colt. It’s unattractive,” Jordan says disdainfully, giving me a death glare.
/> Okay, Mr. Seriously-fucking-mad.
“Then tell me what the fuck you’re talking about—” I start to yell, hating that he called me naïve.
The door opens, interrupting me, and in pops Bridger and Mel. My heart hurts. On his face is red lipstick, and hers is smeared. I’m not sure why, but betrayal from both ends rattle through me. It’s like a fucking Ping-Pong of disappointment as my eyes roam their disheveled appearances. She wouldn’t fuck him. He wouldn’t fuck her.
Right?
Maybe I am naïve like Jordan says.
Maybe they’re really fucking with me, and all last year was a game.
“Where were you two?” I nearly accuse Mel, hating the trepidation in my tone.
Immediately, I’m taken aback at Bridger. He’s staring at me with a mask of indifference. He doesn’t show a single emotion on his face until she blushes, seemingly scandalized.
The red on her cheeks nearly match the smears on his face, and my stomach clenches. A smirk, evil and debilitating, covers his face. He could have wiped that off, hid the fact that they did whatever the fuck they did, but his intentions to hurt me are clear, and it only further worsens my anger. Why is he doing this?
“We... uh... got lost,” Mel murmurs.
“On his dick maybe,” Lux jokes.
I’m not feeling the teasing. When she asked about homecoming, I’m sure she never would have known Bridger was my last guy. The one who doesn’t kiss. Doesn’t offer his mouth for the taking. Yet, he did. Right now. With someone he doesn’t care about.
Everyone stares at me glaring at the red on his face. Ten seems annoyed. Ross is amused. Lux is... fuck I don’t know what he is, but Jordan—that fuckwad—is smiling with so much pride. It’s like he conjured this shit up himself and is immensely satisfied.
I stand. “Well, I’m going to—”
“No, you’re not,” Jordan practically barks, and that makes Mel realize the situation she walked in on isn’t a pleasant one.
“Colt, are you okay?” she questions, her voice hard like steel.
“Yeah, Corpse, everything good?” Lux mocks, using the most derisive tone I’ve ever heard. He’s still smiling in a chilling way. It’s evil, far passed the soft boy he pretends to be on the outside for everyone but the guys and me.
“I’m fine,” I answer to them both, but when I see Mel stiffen, it’s like she knows I’m lying.
“Good. Then let’s sit.” She practically hops over to me as if she’s all but forgotten the weird stance of every guy surrounding us. She sits next to me and fixes her makeup in a way that says she’s using this time for something good.
I try to smile at her carefree ease, but something is off. Not with her, no, but with what these guys want. Why bring Mel here unless she’s a part of it? Or maybe she was getting antsy too.
After she adjusts her makeup, she squeezes my thigh. “Why is there mud on you?” she questions.
“Because she’s a whore that spreads her legs for everyone,” Jordan quips, showing his cards. Wasn’t he supposed to be on the down-low?
She looks at me, then glares at him. “I don’t recall you ever being called a whore for fucking half the school, Jordan. So maybe lay off.” Ten’s voice booms.
The room bursts out in a ruckus of laughter. All but me, Bridger, and Jordan, that is.
Mel butts in. “Before you say it’s different, it’s not. Women have needs, too. At least Colt here owns that part of herself.”
The room silences, and I’m not sure if I should hug her, marry her, or kidnap her and run far the fuck away from Arcadia. No situation is looking good for either of us.
Jordan’s thunderous gaze should scare me, but without knowing his angle, it’s hard to be afraid of a loveless soul.
He’s just sad.
And broken.
That’s what he is. There’s no other excuse.
“We were just telling Colt we missed her in Student Gov and want her back,” he lies through a very fake smile. He’s charming. So much so, he even fooled me.
They’re all full of shit, but I let them lead. Anything to keep Mel safe and out of this weird-ass shit they brought me into.
She nods. “Well, I’ll let her answer herself, but we all know she’s going to tell you where to stick the stick you keep close to your ass.”
I laugh at her southern drawl. She knows me. It may be a new friendship, but she’s shown nothing but love and care for me. It’s something I absolutely admire.
“So why are we here?” Mel asks, her voice low and confused.
“They kidnapped me,” I mutter, and they all glare at me, but her eyes lighten with acknowledgement.
“She’s being dramatic. We went to go to the party, and she pre-gamed. We didn’t want her to embarrass herself.”
It’s Jordan who talks, and until an hour ago, he was considered an ally.
“Well, good thing she’s got me,” Mel states. She reaches out her hand.
No one stops her, probably because she’s not a part of this and they don’t know if she will cause trouble. Or at least, that’s the only reason I can see that they’re letting her take my hand and walking me out the door.
“Thank you,” I whisper quietly. She doesn’t even know how bad it got.
That they admitted to being Emeralds.
That they have initiation.
That I witnessed it once.
That my brother was an Emerald.
I’m barely breathing with how much fear races through me. What did they want, and why are they fucking insane psychos? Why am I only partially scared?
All of this should make me run, but curiosity wants me to know more.
Did they kill Cass? Did he die because he didn’t fuck them? What is happening around me?
My heart hammers as she leads me out.
“To the party?” she offers.
Usually, I’d say no, but something says being in a room full of people will be a helluva lot safer than at my dorm.
“Let’s,” I say, looping our arms.
When I turn to look at the door behind me, I see all five guys watching. Foreboding is like a snakeskin. No matter how many times it sheds, it’ll still be a warning that danger is near.
We make it to the Crystal Tower and are allowed in immediately.
“Going to tell me what the fuck was happening back there?” Mel asks.
I peer at her, wondering how much to say and not knowing how much to trust her. We became friends really fast, and who knows if she’s a ploy or not. After Jordan ended up being a part of my daily nightmares, who’s to say she’s not involved?
“They wanted to scare me. Jordan picked me up for the party, pretending to be a nice guy. Came to find out he’s not a good guy. He’s been a part of their plan to ruin my life since Cass died.”
Her eyes widen. “Does that mean that he’s in on whatever they’re plotting?
“Probably,” I admit. “For some reason, they think I know something about Cass’ death, and they’re trying to scare me for that information.”
“Shit. That’s pretty fucked up.”
“Entirely fucked up,” I confirm. “They’re involved somehow. How else would he be dead and they all tried distracting me that night?” I know I’m halfway talking out of my ass with assumptions and half-telling truths.
“When was this?” she asks, and it occurs to me I’ve been hiding a big part of this.
“Last year for spring break, the guys and I spent most of the vacation at the cabin. We were all... I don’t know, dating almost?”
Her eyes open even wider. If she tries any harder, they’ll pop out.
“Well, we were all at the house and then got invited to an Emerald party.”
“Wait, wait, wait. What is an Emerald party?”
That’s when I realize I’m not giving her the entire story. She doesn’t even know the ghost stories, the ones that aren’t a myth at all.
“In 1910, this school was founded by these families. Several of their
names have been erased from history, so I don’t even know the names of them all, except obviously my last name and the other guys’ too.”
“You’re really starting to freak me out. What kind of place is this?”
“An elitist colony that houses only the rich.”
She nods emphatically, and I wish I had all the time in the world to explain this. Something tells me my time on this earth will be cut short just like my brother’s.
Mel grabs my wrist and leads me toward an abandoned room. “Okay, spill.”
“My brother used to tell me these stories when we were younger, ones our grandpa told him about the rules and expectations of the Hudson family. Cass started by telling me that this town was forged in 1920, a town built by people with secrets and a lot of money and wealth. There were these founding families. When one was wiped out or they made the mistake of divulging secrets, they were removed from the books of history. It was like they never existed.”
Mel’s body shivers, and if she wasn’t wearing Bridger’s coat, I would think it was from the cold and not the fear.
“There are only five family names I know of—Hudson, Dellamore, Clemonte, DeLeon, and McAllister.”
Her eyes widen. “You and the boys.”
I nod. “Except Jordan. I don’t know where he fits into all of this.”
“Maybe his name isn’t Winthrop,” she says.
It could be. He could have lied.
“Being a founding family has a lot of weight, so much so, that in the later 1950s, they created a group called the Emerald Vestige.”
Her eyes light up in understanding.
“I thought Cass was making shit up, but after tonight, I think he was learning all along. He told me only men could be involved, that they’re meant to set order to the town and keep it functioning, but what kind of organization has teenagers doing all the dirty work?”
“Just look at my dad. He has the twins doing all his dirty work since he legally can’t,” Mel adds.
That has my stomach all achy. “Back there, where they dragged me into, apparently that’s the Emeralds’ cabin.”
“Oh my god,” she whisper-hisses.
Here Lives a Corpse: A Dark Bully Academy Romance (Here Lies Book 1) Page 18
