CHAPTER2
Luke
The atrium is quiet, nearly silent, leaving me with my ever-present thoughts. I want to shut them up, to drown them out, but I can’t. I’m too distracted by what’s to come. Even the place they’re holding it, this small castle out in the middle of a hedge maze, can’t keep my heart from pounding in my chest whenever I let those memories get too close to the surface.
Even now, I can hear Ryker’s voice echoing around the empty space, as if he’s right here next to me. His breath skims the side of my face, drowning me in the reeking scent of alcohol. I know that smell, and I know what it means. Though he’s always hurtful, the alcohol makes it worse.
Looking over my shoulder, a sigh eases past my lips when I note the empty space. He’s not here. He’s dead. Then again, he’s been dead before. There’s still a chance that he’s out there waiting to pounce. A boogeyman of my own making. But no. He’s not alive.
I stood off in the shadows, watching as they left the casket there for the showing. With trembling fingers, I poked at his body and tugged at his face. It wasn’t a mask; it was him. Dead. No longer able to hurt me. But even when they lowered him down into the earth, I knew I’d never be free.
This moment proves just that. He’s burning in hell, and yet, I can still smell him. I can still feel his fingers running through my hair. Fuck. I can still hear his groaning voice as he murmurs, “good boy,” to me as I work him over. He’s a part of me, a fragmented monster that’s embedded deep inside my soul.
The only way I’ll ever be free is to no longer exist. But then, he would like that. No doubt, he has his own section of hell and waits for me to join him; that way, he can torture me over and over for all eternity. It’s not for loving life that I’m still alive; it’s to delay the inevitable of meeting back up with him once I’m dead.
This isn’t going to work. I need to fucking get Ryker out of my head if I want any hope of making it through the initiation without losing my shit and killing everyone in there. It’s not fear keeping me poised on this precipice; it’s rage - pure and unbridled.
Everything that’s happened in my life converged to this moment. The childhood abandonment led me to this place where they would beat me, torture me, and force me to demean myself to prove my worth. What makes this worse than Ryker is that I’m allowing them to do it.
With Ryker, I didn’t have a choice. It was either submit or pay with pain. With these guys, I’m submitting to the pain to earn the right to walk about their campus unmolested. It’s the height of privilege, and the thought alone makes my teeth grind.
Ryker’s motives were simple. He was a bastard that got off on hurting others. But these guys? I have no clue what drives them. I know the shrink likes to torment people mentally, at least that’s what I gathered from our session, but how he does it is still a mystery. Will he just talk to me until I give up?
Staring at the brickwork in front of me, I slide my fingers down the rough texture and force my brain onto other things. I need to get myself under control. The heavy doors remain closed, shutting me off from whatever is happening inside. Several robed figures slip past me, shuffle through the door, then leave me out here alone.
Muffled shouts reach my ears, and for a moment, I wonder if it’s me they’re yelling about. I wouldn’t be surprised. I’m not like the rest of them. I don’t drip with wealth and affluence. I’m a simple guy with simple tastes. Give me blood, screams, and fucking.
After several minutes, the doors open back up, and the dean motions for me to come forward. The robed figures stand around a small dais in the middle of the room with a large pole and rings sticking up out of it. Unease slides into my gut as we walk closer.
Ryker didn’t need all this pomp and circumstance. He didn’t need fancy equipment. His hands, belt, and cock were more than enough to get the job done. If he had stepped one foot into this room, he probably would have laughed and pissed on the walls, showing the others what he thought of their fancy little castle.
Part of me wants to do the same. To show them that I don’t need them. I don’t need their ivory towers to keep me safe, but deep inside, I know that’s incorrect. Without their protection, Micha would come for me, catching me unawares, almost like he did with the jail.
If Louis hadn’t busted me out, I would have probably been dead. I never thanked him for it, but then, it was the least he could do after all my years of suffering from his neglect.
The dean’s hand is warm on my arm as he leads me forward. Too warm. It should be cold and unfeeling, not beckoning and welcoming. I don’t trust it. Nothing about this is sane. You can’t convince me that Micha would have a setup like this, yet he keeps his stupid flock in line.
Once we reach the dais, he stands back as another man steps from the shadows, his mouth open in a wide grin. As if this cat has just eaten the canary. Next to him, the good shrink scowls as if he’s had sour milk. Perhaps they’re the ones that were shouting.
“Are you ready for the initiation?” the dean’s voice reverberates in my head, and for a moment, I can’t comprehend the words.
When they finally right themselves, I glance over with a smirk. Again, there’s nothing they can do that hasn’t already been done. “Do your worst, old man.”
A few of the others chuckle, a light tittering of laughter that doesn’t seem to upset him. He’s cool, unflappable, and definitely in control. A small remnant of my shattered heart cries out as he stands there, a soft smile on his face.
There’s not a trace of anger or recrimination. It’s certainly a far cry from both Ryker and Louis. Try as he might, Louis still has those flashes of anger that make him unapproachable. The times I did dream, it was of a father that would look at me the way the dean is looking at me now.
It fucking hurts. Out of anything they can do to me today, nothing will hurt me worse than this moment. I want to run, to get away from this man who looks at me in a way that nobody has any right to. I want to punch that look off of him, to grind it in the dirt, to bury it right alongside my lost smile.
“And you understand the ramifications of tonight?” He continues without missing a beat.
“I understand that you own my ass if that’s what you mean.”
“What I mean, Luke Lannister,” the dean growls out, his voice taking on a far different tone from earlier. “Is that you will be held to a high standard. We have strict rules and guidelines that we all must adhere to, especially you.”
“Why,” I snap out, the pain coming back to the forefront. “Because I’m not a rich bastard like the rest of y’all?”
To think that I considered this man to be like a father figure I could look up to. It’s laughable that I let myself go that far. It was a momentary slip-up. That’s all. At this moment, I know that I’ll never be worthy enough or good enough, and fuck every one of them for looking down on me like that.
I could be rich. I could be as rich as every single fuckface in this place, but I’ll never take the money that Louis is offering. I’ll never be tied to anyone ever again, especially not a sperm donor that suddenly developed a heart where his balls should be.
The shrink steps forward, his frown deepening even more. “I told you, John. He’s a loose cannon.”
I step forward, my hands balling into fists. The desire to slam into his face and feel his nose crunch beneath my fury is strong, almost palpable in the air. Before I can get too close, the dean steps in between us, his hand resting on my chest in a firm but non-aggressive request to stand down.