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Top Tier Assholes.
Syn gets to the bottom of the stairs and then stops, dragging his gaze up and down my body. His eyes zero in on my chest, and he sneers. “Did you shove your phone into your bra?” Without waiting for an answer, he holds his hand out. “Give it.”
I hesitate. Not because I care about sticking my hand into my bra in front of them, but if I hand my phone over, will I get it back? At this point, there’s nothing of sentimental value on it that isn’t backed up to the Cloud, but that phone is my lifeline.
“You want me to get it for you?” Gemini asks me with a unruly grin, as though that might lighten the mood.
Sticking my hand into my dress, I wrap my fingers around my phone and then pull it out. But I don’t hand it over to Syn.
Syn cocks his head. “Are you planning on using that to record? Hoping to find some sordid or illicit soundbite to share with Fox News?”
The thought had crossed my mind, but the battery life on my phone is so bad, it would probably die before it recorded anything useful anyway.
“Or do you think that if you dial 911, help will come?”
Marching over, I slam the phone into his palm, but he doesn’t even flinch.
I’m expecting him to put it in his pocket, but he barely looks at it as he tosses it onto the antique sideboard that’s pushed up against the wall.
“In case it hasn’t been made clear enough to you by now, the moment you walked through that door, we owned you. Your deluded little fantasy of becoming a member of the Elite is very real, and even if your chances are virtually impossible, if you want any hope of success, you need to grasp that fact very quickly.”
I’ve made my motives clear to Syn as to why I’m here, but he’s speaking to me like I’m trying to find a future husband. I wonder if he’s doing so because he wants to get a reaction out of me, but he’s not getting one.
Like a demure woman, I keep my hands clasped loosely in front of him and keep my eyes on him like I’m enthralled by every word he speaks.
Syn’s jaw tightens.
“Regardless of whether you are a member of the Elite, or an initiate destined for failure, you are a representative of this society. So while you are living in this house, you will not leave your room wearing anything other than what is provided to you, nor without your hair and makeup done. You will never walk in front of or beside us. You will not speak until you’re spoken to, and you will always do exactly what you’re told.”
Syn takes a step forward and grabs my collar.
Catching me off-guard, I wobble in the delicate heels, my hands, automatically reaching up to grab his wrist before I lose my balance.
“Dogs that are not obedient will be punished, and those that attack their owners will be put down.” He narrows his eyes. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I say, fighting to keep my tone compliant, like I don’t have an issue with him gripping the collar the way he is.
He lets go and then steps around me. “The meeting starts at nine. Do not make us late.”
I turn just as he reaches the front door and walks outside, leaving the door wide open.
Royal sucks in a breath, and then he walks past me without giving me a second look, following Syn outside.
Gemini, on the other hand, walks up to me, peering closely at my face. “I don’t think Syn’s got that right. About you being a dog.” He tilts his head but doesn’t take his eyes off me. “You’ve got something wilder in you. I see it.” He steps back and a grin appears on his face. “And you know what? I’ve never been one for blood sports, but… I’m here for this.”
I wait until he’s walked out of the house before I finally clench my hands into fists. Then I suck in a deep breath, relax my hands, and walk outside, pulling the door closed behind me.
As I step down off the porch, a golf cart goes past, driven by Royal. Although there’s more than enough space for me to join them, Royal doesn’t even look at me. Instead, all I get is a finger wave from Gemini.
The main part of campus where the dining hall and most of the classrooms are located, sits on a relatively flat surface. The dorms I used to live in, on the opposite side of campus, were built on a steep incline with red brick steps and stone paths that curve back and forth for accessibility.
On this side of campus, there are no steps. While I know the university was built over two hundred years ago, and Syn’s golf cart was never taken into consideration back then, over here, there aren’t many steps. Instead, paths swirl back and forth to create smoother inclines so students can head down towards the parking lot, or up towards the church.
“Hurry up,” Syn yells.
The golf cart isn’t that far in front of me. Having seen them zip around the campus like they’re competing in a Mario-kart race, I know Royal is driving slowly. But I also know it’s not slow enough that they expect me to be able to catch up and jump on unless I start running.
And running is not happening in these heels.
