Bloody Princess by Helen Scott
5
Atlas
I stare at Jude in shock as Lyric walks away with her friend. "How could you say that to her?" I demand.
He whips his head toward me, "Why in the actual fuck are you on her side? She's a freshman girl at a frat party. She should know better."
"Normally, you wouldn't give two shits," Thayer says.
"Yeah, you'd be balls deep in that freshman pussy. Probably have some girl bent over the bathroom sink or some other shit," Keats adds with a bark of laughter.
Jude throws his hands in the air before he searches for a drink. After finding an almost empty bottle of vodka, he seems somewhat appeased, and he lifts it to his lips and downs the remaining contents in a few gulps. "Well, excuse me for giving a shit about this fraternity and the fact that, if we lose this, we will forever be known as the class that got APT kicked off campus. That's not even mentioning the Regents and the remainder of our college career. Ex-fucking-scuse me." He fake bows and plops down in one of the hideous red plastic patio chairs with a thump that makes the feet judder across the concrete of the patio.
"I get what you're saying, but we're not going to get kicked off after one citation," Thayer cajoles. He might have a girlfriend right now, but he knows that Keats and I aren't going to turn down a one-night stand just because she's a freshman. Not that I'm thinking about Little L that way. Or I hadn't been.
Now I'm confused, though.
Seeing her today has been messing with my head. She doesn’t look anything like the little sister who stood at Lyssa's funeral with nothing but rage on her face. Not a single tear fell. The anger rolling off her that day had almost made an aura around her—a line that no one wanted to cross.
Except her father's bodyguard. There's seriously something up with that guy.
When Melody died, her funeral was less full of pomp and circumstance than Lyssa's. After all, Mel took her own life, which just isn't something a child of the families of Ascendance Bay does. I'd be willing to bet that Simon Sterling had done everything he could to keep that tidbit from the news, including having a rushed funeral.
Even at Mel's funeral, Lyric had been a ball of anger. Simon hadn't looked at her once. I know because I'd watched the asshole the whole time. Ever since their mother had died when they were young, the Sterling girls had been left to fend for themselves, with the exception of Mel, who stirred up trouble and got sent to a boarding school because of it.
I shake my head to clear it, not just of the painful memories of burying one of my best friends and her younger sister, but of seeing Little L like an adult. If she hadn't made me see her at the cookout I probably would have just served her and not even noticed. That's how different she looks.
The girl has most definitely become a woman.
Christ, has she ever. She is sin incarnate. The curves she's developed should be illegal. I put up a big roadblock in my mind. The last thing I want is to disrespect Lyssa's memory by thinking dirty thoughts about her baby sister.
"You want to take that risk?" Jude demands.
"Listen, why don't you go find Jenny, get your dick sucked, and let the rest of us enjoy the party?" I ask as I rake my fingers through my hair. All it does is dislodge the blond locks from where they'd been styled into place earlier in the evening. First impressions are important, and this is the first party of the year. We weren't going to show up looking like the Lambda Delts. Fucking stoner hippies.
I swallow the thought down. That's my father speaking through me. I don't know any of the Lambda Delts, so how would I know if they are stoner hippies?
The only thing I am supposed to give a shit about tonight is getting my dick wet. I first thought maybe Little L's friend could be a candidate, but seeing the two of them standing there, I knew she couldn't be. She’d looked too damn innocent. Lyric, too, for that matter, only I know she's been through hell. It always surprises me that it hasn't left a mark on her.
"Jenny is dealing with Pi Ep shit. They’re already training for rush," Jude says, rolling his eyes.
"Seriously? It's still a few weeks away," Thayer drawls.
"Yeah, they go hard," I add as I take a swig from my beer. When I'm done, I ask, "Is that why you're so cranky Jay, 'cause you can't get some?"
Jude just glares at me. "No. I just want APT to stay on campus. Jesus, it's like you've never had to be responsible for anything before."
His words sting, but I brush it off. No one thinks the meathead lacrosse player knows shit about anything. "Yeah, you're right. I've never had to give a shit about anything."
"No matter what you were trying to do, you can't talk to Lyric that way. The girl's been through hell and back. Cut her some slack," Thayer scolds.
"Because we've all had it so easy," Jude scoffs.
"I'm sorry, did your mother and two older sisters die? Were you left with no one but your neglectful father?" Thayer pushes on, and I can see Jude's temper rising to meet the occasion.
When he launches off the patio chair, he spins and lashes out, his fist flying toward Thayer's head. It's Keats' hand that stops it from connecting. The bigger man just scowls down at his friend. It's rare that we come to blows. We're like brothers, and I don't just mean the fraternity kind, but actual brothers. We grew up together, have known each other since elementary school, and our families have known each other even longer.
"Let's all just take a breath," I say as I pull Thayer back and out of reach of Jude's fist, in case he lets it fly again. With a quick glance around, I see that the party has cleared out of the patio area, the crowd clearly sensing something going down out here. Our APT brothers know that the four of us have our own bond, one they will never break or infiltrate, as hard as they might try. When we fight, they know to give us space rather than circle up and chant for us to throw down like they would with any of the other brothers.
Jude does as I ask and takes a breath, turning away from us as he does. He runs his hands through the curls that top his head, though his hair is short enough right now that they are barely visible. Finally, after a few tense moments, he says, "Lyric is a freshman, and this year, freshmen aren't allowed at parties on frat property. I don’t care if they have tits, or a dick, or both. They aren’t welcome. Off property is a different matter, but I won't risk bringing the alumni down on our heads, and I definitely won't risk pissing off the Regents."
The fucking Regents. God, I was so sick of them, and I still had two years to get through with them. "Just because they are the society on campus that everyone wants to be a part of doesn't mean they can control our lives," I mutter, knowing as I say it that it’s a lie.
"That's exactly what it means!" Jude practically screams at me, the veins on his neck and forehead standing out in stark relief as he explodes with anger all over again. When he speaks again, his voice is a hiss that no one but us will hear. "We signed our names in blood with them. You think we get to ignore them after that? Think about what they have on us. They could destroy us and our families by sharing any of the evidence they have. We can't piss them off."
I try to put most of our meetings out of my mind. The only reason I'd joined was my dad and the fact that he had told me, in no uncertain terms, if I didn't make it to full membership with the Regents, he'd cut me off. So I’d joined, and it was only after I'd been initiated that I found out the fuckers recorded everything at the meetings. How is a secret society going to stay secret if there are recordings of what we've done? The answer, of course, is that the recordings are used as leverage over the members. We do what they say, when they say it, and we don't ask questions unless we want all of our dirty laundry aired. Since Jude, Keats, Thayer, and I are second generation members of the Regents, there's more than enough laundry to bury us, our families, and any future families we might have.
"Fine! No freshmen when we have parties at the house. You’d better make an announcement soon, though, because the other dudes are going to be pissed." My fraternity brothers are decent guys for the most part, but they like their pussy easy to come by, and having parties elsewhere made that a little more challenging. They wouldn't be able to just take a girl upstairs, fuck her, and bring her back down when they were done. This would be a whole thing to them.
None of the other brothers are Regents though. The secret society only accepts the richest, most influential members. They don't give a shit how smart or how athletic anyone is. They just want access to their members' money and power. Anything they can do to advance themselves and their members is their goal.
"I'm announcing it at this Sunday's meeting," Jude says as he picks up another bottle of vodka that someone had left behind, this one mostly full, and takes a swig from its contents.
"Are you ready for the pushback?" Thayer asks, and I can tell he's thinking the same thing I am. If there's one thing guys my age don't like being told, it's how to party. We like to consider ourselves experts at getting fucked up and having fun, and any reminder that someone else is holding the rule book and telling us what we can and can't do is not okay.
The problem is, the Regents are definitely in control. Not just of how we party, but of our whole lives, until they say otherwise. When they say jump, we ask how high. End of discussion. It's something the rest of the brothers at APT won't understand, and we can't tell them, either. The society is a secret, truly. It doesn’t matter how many rumors float around campus—if someone reveals it or talks about it with a non-member, they forfeit their life. I just hate admitting it. I hate that I signed my life over to them without realizing what it would entail, all because of my father. I hate that I can't warn the future prospects what it means to be a Regent.
Jude nods and takes another gulp of vodka. None of us are getting any tonight with Jude in this kind of mood. Especially not when he's passed his bad mood on to all of us with a reminder of our responsibilities to the Regents. I push through the doors back into the house. If nothing else, I can drink the memories of the Regents meetings away. At least for tonight.
