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I pulled out a chair at the dining table, the legs scraping across the beige tile floor. I sank into it and popped my neck before I dove in. “That’s a bitch you can’t just be yourself around them. Don’t you feel like you live a double life or some shit?” I suspected he did, but I wanted to know I wasn’t the only one that struggled with that issue.
“I fucking hate it. It eats me up sometimes, but there’s no need to discuss it. I’m ready to have a good year away from them.”
I gave him a silent nod, turning my attention to the papers lying on the scuffed and worn brown tabletop. Cutting the stack in half, I slid some of them to Anderson. “You know what to look for.”
Without another word, we began to read the answers the girls had provided on the website.
“This one’s in. Damn, I like her already.” I placed the questionnaire to the right of my stack. “Fantasies include rape, kidnapping, sucking off a guy while she’s in a cage, foursome …”
Anderson grinned. “Sounds like she’s perfect.”
My forehead creased as my attention landed on the next one. “Who the hell picked these girls? Shit, here’s another one who likes spanking, anal sex, and flogging, and wants to be blindfolded and raped.” I pointed to Anderson’s pile. “What are yours like?”
Anderson began to read the next girl’s preferences. “BDSM, praise kink, rape, but she wants to rape the guy and use hot wax.” Anderson looked at me. “I think some gossip got around last year, man. They might not be giving specifics, but this batch of ladies is better than what we previously had, for damn sure. Holy shit.”
Over the next hour, we picked out the best girls, and I was relieved that I could stop thinking about the cheerleader with Mason for a few minutes. But then I realized it still wasn’t long enough. I rose from my seat and stretched, yawning.
“Did you see the chick with Mason at the party?” I grabbed my empty bottle and tossed it into the recycling bin.
“Who didn’t?” Anderson stood and gathered us a few more beers from the refrigerator.
I took the drink from him. “What do you know about her?”
Anderson’s lips curled up. “She’s clearly gorgeous. This is her first year at Whitmore, but she’s a sophomore. I hear she’s from Tennessee. Wonder if she’s got a Southern accent.”
“What’s her name?” Quinn had already told me, but I wanted to make sure.
“Brie Langston. She’s in with Everlee, Gabby, Leighton, and Ari. Rich and popular.”
Brie had Lyndsay’s looks but not her name. Ihad tobe wrong about her. “Quinn said she had a rental near campus. Can you find out where?”
Anderson glanced at me, his eyes flickering with curiosity. “Dude, I already know where.”
I laced my fingers behind my head, waiting for him to tell me.
“126 West Gardenia Lane.”
I swallowed over the tightness in my throat. “You sure that’s the correct one?”
“Very. A few of us followed her home tonight. Ya know, made sure she arrived safely.” He chuckled. “That sounded creepy as hell, but we wanted to know where she lived.” He gave me a half shrug.
I ground my molars. “She’s marked. Don’t fucking touch her if you don’t want to be shredded to pieces.” My voice was low and calm, but I felt anything but.
Anderson raised his hands in surrender. “No one’s intentionally stepping in your shit, man. But you need to let everyone know, then follow the rule you put into place and mark her.”
Letting out a heavy, uneven breath, I nodded. I stomped into the living room, where the other guys were still playing the Xbox.
“Listen up, motherfuckers. Brie Langston is marked. She’s off-limits. I find out anyone else has followed her home or even looked at her sideways, I’ll make sure you regret it.”
A heavy silence hung in the air as all eyes stared at me, bewildered.
“Understood?”
Ten different voices responded with ayes.
“Good.” And with that, I spun around on my heel and headed out the door again. If I couldn’t sleep, then I had something I needed to take care of on West Gardenia Lane, and it couldn’t wait.
Not even ten minutes later, a burning urge to learn the truth exploded in my chest as I turned onto the road. It was nearly three-thirty in the morning, but I was used to staying awake all night. Even though it had been five and a half years since my life had changed, the demons of my past called to me in my dreams, forcing me into a spiral of insomnia at times. At least I’d faced it straight on. That’s what I told myself anyway.
