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“What else do you know about us?” Hex asks idly.
“Not much,” I answer.
“No?” I can tell he’s insincere by his tone, but my entire body stiffens when he touches me.
Now that my hands and legs are bound and I’m secured to this table much more tightly than I was in the Rho Kappa house, I’m realizing how helpless he wanted me.
I’m realizing it because he wants me to. He trails his fingers down the inside of my arms, starting at the sensitive skin on my wrist. It’s a light, lover’s caress, meant to be tantalizing if he were my lover.
But meant to be something else entirely since he isn’t.
My hackles rise. The threat has been received.
I lick my lips. “I don’t know anything about you, Hex. Literally nothing. I think I know less about you than anyone.” Stumbling for words, I search for something helpful. “I know you’re Killian’s friend. I know you’re all Killian’s friends. And I have a feeling he wouldn’t love his friends kidnapping me in the middle of the night and tying me to a table in just a nightgown, so… this is a bit weird.”
He trails his finger down my neck, and my body tenses up until it hurts.
“Please stop touching me,” I blurt.
“No,” he answers simply, sounding bored. “Now,” he says, dragging a finger across my collarbone. “I’ll ask one more time, and this time I’d like an honest answer.”
Before he has to, I interrupt. “I don’t know anything.” The urgency grows as his finger dips lower. “Please,” I say, pulling uselessly at my bound hands. “I don’t know—”
“Do you know where I was last night?” he asks.
“No.”
“Do you have any guesses as to what I was doing?”
I swallow. “No.”
“Would you swear to that on your life?”
I hesitate, but then I say, “Yes.”
I think it’s what he wants me to say, but I’m a bit confused. He knows I saw him in the hallway last night, but I think he’s interrogating me to see what I’ll tell others, not because he legitimately doesn’t know what I saw.
The truth doesn’t matter, only what I’m going to tell people.
Deciding I need to bolster his faith in me, I add, “I have no reason to talk about you or any of Killian’s friend. I have no reason to… to suspect anything.”
“No?” he asks, skimming a hand down my side.
I suck in a breath, deeply uncomfortable being touched like that by someone who isn’t Killian. “No,” I say shakily.
“Do you know anything about the secret societies on campus?”
“Only what I’ve heard around campus,” I mutter. “Nothing substantial.”
“Have you heard of the Blue Bloods?”
My heart sinks, and I try like hell to control my expression. “Yeah, sure. People talk about them sometimes, but I figure no one really knows what they’re talking about.” Borrowing a line from Killian, I say, “Secret societies wouldn’t stay secret for long if people who actually knew anything were running their mouths to anyone who would listen, now would they?”
His lips curve up faintly. “No. They wouldn’t.”
I swallow. “I’m… not chatty, and not informed about them, so… not a great source.”
He watches me for an excruciatingly long moment. Longer than any normal person could comfortably stare at another person, and it makes my skin crawl.
