I poke her in the ribs. “Stop being needy.”
That only makes her tighten her hold on me, nearly choking the living hell out of me.
The door to the flat opens and in comes a pretty doll in a beautiful purple dress with matching flats and hair clips.
Annika, our fourth roommate and a new friend, pauses at the scene, frowning slightly before she grins and speaks in an American accent, “What’s going on?”
“This bitch was going to betray us and wander out alone for fun times.”
Annika’s eyes widen. She’s the brunette version of Ava, only seventeen—going on eighteen, as she likes to remind us—and is the personification of a people person.
Always kind, smiling, never makes others feel unwanted or uncomfortable, and has the energy of a butterfly on steroids.
“Take us with you,” she says enthusiastically.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Ava agrees.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I shove her away. “It’s just a walk.”
“We can walk, too. Right, Anni?”
Our friend bobs her head up and down with excessive energy, then pauses, all the joy dropping from her face. “On a second thought, if Jer finds out I was walking at night, he’ll put me on house arrest, and I’m not a fan.”
“Your brother really sucks.” Ava pauses. “No offense.”
“He has his moments, I guess.” Anni’s expression continues to be caught in that disappointment limbo. “You girls go. I’ll root for you from here.”
“Nonsense.” Ava flips her hair back. “We can always have a girls' night in. Right, Cecy?”
The mention of my name brings me back from a weird state. An out-of-body experience, as if I’m seeing myself from outer lenses.
I was out of focus—here in body but completely elsewhere in mind, as if my spirit was abducted and I was left hollow.
It started after Annika mentioned her brother’s name.
We’ve known since she was admitted to REU this semester that she’s a mafia princess and her much older brother, who’s almost twenty-four, is not only a mafia prince, but also the heir to a blood-soaked empire.
I first heard his name when I got into uni last year. Anyone on Brighton Island is well aware of that name and the promise of fear it brings.
Jeremy Volkov.
Leader of the Heathens, part of the Russian mafia, and the current reigning monarch over the whole of TKU.
I’ve seen him around during the time I’ve been at uni, mostly at the fight club that Ava is obsessed with going to, because, of course, someone like him is attuned to violence.
I’ve only met him once, two days ago when he found out Annika was at the fight club with us and proceeded to drag her out. The controlling behavior left a bad taste in my mouth and I got in his face about it.
Something that he definitely disliked and disregarded, and then he proceeded to kick Anni out.
The whole encounter made me happy that I don’t know him on a personal level. People like him, and the whole of the Heathens who get off on old patriarchal rules and only care for their gratification, deserve nothing but distaste.
I’m just glad I won’t see him anymore.
You totally did last night at the initiation.
I pause at that thought. Yes, I knew Jeremy was one of the guys in the masks. He wouldn’t miss the initiation, considering he’s their leader, but for some reason, in the back of my mind, I refused to dwell on that option.
“Cecily Annabelle Knight!”
I startle at Ava’s voice, realizing that I got lost in my head again.
I hike up a hand on my hip. “Why are you calling me by my full name?”
“Because you zoned out.” Ava snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Welcome back to the world of the living. As we were saying, girls' night in?”
I nod and let them lead me back into the living room.
Although I would rather be outside, it’s impossible to escape Ava’s watchful gaze. If I do go out, she’ll definitely tag along.
And I can’t have her with me for the devilish plan I’ve decided to take part in.
I sit cross-legged on the sofa, replaying the message I saw on the app’s screen in my mind.
The partner who fits your criteria requires that you arrive on your own after seven p.m. at the local Brighton Historical Park. Any day of the week.
Please use your safe word anytime you want to stop the act.
I wasn’t able to sleep properly last night, and when I did, I dreamt of black hands suffocating my mouth as I was dragged into the night.