Shaking off his shock, some life seeps back into Karl, and he adds, “Screams are life’s aphrodisiacs.” Then, he cuts his eyes back in my direction, and I know we’re going to discuss this at some point. I’m just not ready to do that yet. I need more information. I can’t say anything until I’m sure I’ve connected all the dots. Once I do, we can eliminate the snake in our midst.
August pulls into the entrance of the Fraternitas, and our demeanors instantly change. Tonight we go through our third rite.
“Let’s get this shit over with,” Rowan says, opening his door, and we all follow suit.
* * *
“Over the summer, you all began your journey from childhood into manhood,” Mr. Calloway begins. He looks like the bulky older blond version of Rowan. “Now, you enter the third stage, the second to last requirement to becoming full-fledged brothers,” he announces from his seat. “You all have been given an individual task that must be completed before the final selection is made in June. You must work as a team to discover who Senator Baker has been meeting with since he was turned down by us for his bid for the Presidency.”
“All files relating to the Senator have already been loaded to the private servers. Liam will get you all the files and ensure they stay encrypted,” my father states from the left of Rowan’s dad.
Clearing his throat, Mr. Calloway relays his final directive, “You all are expected to discover what the Senator has been up to and who he’s been up to it with. Don’t fail.” With that, we’re dismissed.
We exit the room, and none of us speak until we are back in the car.
“What do you think the Senator could be doing that warrants them to bring us in?” Rowan mumbles, but I ignore him and begin digging.
Five minutes into the drive and I’ve found our first hit.
“Glen Matthews,” I interject, pausing their conversation.
“Byron Matthews’s nephew, Glen?” Karl inquires, a glint of excitement appearing in his whiskey eyes. The prospect of being able to interrogate someone so soon thrills him.
“That’s the one,” I confirm.
“Perfect, I’ll get word to my dad, and after we meet the girls for dinner, we can come back to find out what he knows,” Rowan says, phone already in his hand, fingers flying across the screen.
Collective groans, myself included, object to the first part of his plan.
“Why the fuck do we need to meet Samantha and her mindless tagalongs?” August snaps.
“Because my task is to find out what her father’s up to, remember?” Rowan snipes back.
I hate that he’s right. Any moment in the soul leech’s presence is a test of my patience. It’s bad enough I have to tolerate her at school.
“Fine, but this better not take long so I can get to my favorite part of the night- slicing, dicing, and fucking,” Karl mutters, peering out the window at the now setting sun. He turns, and we give each other another knowing look before we all go silent, mentally preparing for the draining ordeal.
“Oh, I’m in. Riri is supposed to be working tonight,” August gleams, stepping harder on the gas.
EMMA
The diner has been crazy tonight. It’s like the first day of school made everyone decide they want to go out to eat. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve already made four hundred dollars in cash tips tonight. I’ll say this, the assholes in this town are pretentious as fuck, but they aren’t stingy on tipping.
“Can you believe how crazy it’s been tonight?” Lola, my co-worker who helped train me, asks. She lives a town over, in Lincolnville, and has worked here for the last four years, all through high school and, now, to help pay for college. “Girl, you’d think no one in this town remembers how to cook, or should I say, have their staff cook for them.” Her eyes dance with humor as we both break out into laughter.
It’s a running inside joke that many families here wouldn’t be caught in the kitchen cooking for fear of breaking a nail or something, but their stuffiness is our gain.
“I know. It was steady throughout summer, but tonight is crazy,” I say to her, heading out of the kitchen to see if Mary’s seated anyone new in my section.
As I step through the door, I hear my name.
“Emma, I just sat a party of ten in your section,” Mary confirms.
Nodding, I stride toward the booth, pulling out my pad and paper.
Glancing up to see who’s sitting there. My feet stop before my brain signals for the rest of my body to follow suit, and I almost trip.
Seriously? Isn’t seeing this group of asses at school enough? Collecting myself, I approach, plastering on my fake customer service smile.
“Hi, welcome to Monty’s, home of the world’s best New England chowder. My name is Emma, and I will be your server this evening. May I start you all off by getting you something to drink?” I ask after finishing up my spiel.
“Oh, this is just too good to be true,” says Sam with a saccharine-sweet voice, as she looks up from her menu. Cackling, she continues, “I knew you were trash, but not service worker trash. I shoulda known. There’s no way someone who dresses like you could be anything other than the help.”
Of course, Sam and the fuckwad squad would come in tonight of all nights. None of them ate here over the summer. They were too busy traveling with Mommy and Daddy’s money. The taste of blood hits my tongue as I bite the inside of my cheek, remembering I need this job.
“What can I get you all to drink?” I ask again.
This time it’s assholian himself, Rowan, who speaks, “Yeah, you can get me a sprite, trash troll. This place suits you. It reminds you that you’re only good enough to take our orders.”
I start to count in my head, t en, motherfucking Mississippi, nine, motherfucking Mississippi. I count until I reach one.
“That was a sprite for you, sir.” My face is tight, and with the fake smile I’ve plastered on, I turn to the next person.
Once I have everyone’s drink order, I head to the kiosk, placing their order in the system, and then prepare their drinks. If tonight isn’t a test of my inner will to do what’s necessary, I don’t know what is. I deliver the drinks to the table and grab their dinner orders.
“Are you all ready to order?” I ask, pulling out my order pad. I’m still not as good at remembering people’s orders as Lola is. She doesn’t even write things down.
“Did we say we were ready?” One of the plebs with bottle red hair asks, laughing like she made a joke.
“Brittany, just quit it. You’re being so annoying. Just hurry the fuck up and order.” one of the guys from school growls before turning to Rowan. “Why the fuck are we here with them again?”
I don’t know his name, but I’m glad he’s trying to hurry this torture session along. The faster I am done with this waste of space group, the better it is for my sanity.
“Karl, man, just chill. The girls wanted to come grab a bite,” Rowan retorts back. Their eyes connect, communicating something to each other without words.
Karl, so that’s his name. I take him in, waiting for the rest of the table to make up their minds, so I can take their orders. I think they must put something in the water in this town because all the men here look like they model. Karl appears to be half a head taller than Rowan, and while I can’t take in his entire appearance, I can tell he has some of the most gorgeous soft brown eyes. Their lightness is made more prominent by the contrast of his wavy dark brown hair and sun-kissed skin, both of which give him a fresh from the beach look.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.