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His brow furrows. “Why does that matter?”
“According to you, none of this matters. So just tell me.”
“Maybe a few weeks, I don’t know. Why?”
I don’t need to do the math in my head. Without knowing how far along she was, it’s impossible to be sure, but there is a very good chance that Vaughn is the one who got Olivia pregnant.
Indecision wars inside me before I finally make a decision. “Olivia was pregnant when she got attacked.”
Vaughn opens his mouth and then closes it, obviously too shocked for an immediate reaction. “That can’t be true.”
“I’ve seen the test results myself. Evangeline has her sister’s medical records.”
He looks frozen in place, like a living photograph. If not for the fact that he was just talking, I’d think something was seriously wrong with him.
“You’re lying.”
“Fuck off,” I snap. “You know I would never lie about something like this.”
“Then Evangeline made up some lab tests to fuck with your head.”
“If that’s what you want to think,” I acknowledge with a sigh. “But you know as well as I do that she doesn’t have any reason to do that.”
Our gazes lock as he stares at me. I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. But Vaughn has convinced himself that things are different then they are, and I’m not going to be able to change his mind.
When he finally speaks again, his voice is deadened.
“I need to sleep. These painkillers make me feel exhausted all the time.” He lays back on the bed. But instead of closing, his eyes are wide open and staring at the ceiling. “Can you make sure the door closes behind you?”
Frustrated, I let the door slam shut so hard that the wooden frame rattles.
I don’t need Vaughn’s help to see this through, but I really thought he would offer it. I’ll probably never know what really happened between him and Olivia, but at this point it doesn’t matter.
He just needs to stay out of the way. Evangeline and I can do this on our own.
Chapter Nineteen
I’m expecting the imperial summons to Havoc House on Friday afternoon because Drake had already warned me it was coming. This is the last weekend before classes start for spring semester, and the students who went home for break have already started trickling back onto campus. It only makes sense that the Havoc Boys are planning to throw a blowout party.
I’ve dressed in an old pair of jeans with my black leather jacket thrown over a plain t-shirt and a plain pair of sneakers on my feet. I look a bit like someone who works at a hardware store, but I want to be ready in case Brady has another run through the woods planned.
Even after a week, I swear that I can still smell sewer water and rotting foliage.
When the door opens before I even reach it, I’m not expecting the bucket and mop that Cole shoves into my hands as he hustles me inside of the house.
“Good, you’re here.” Cole distractedly tries to close the door when I’m still standing in the way. He huffs in frustration until I move. “Brady wants the house spotless for some stupid fucking reason. He says you have to be on bathroom duty.”
Since Brady has made it clear that he hopes to torture me into leaving, that makes perfect sense. “What makes you think that I have any interest in cleaning up after you Neanderthals?”
“Because you’re a pledge.” He casts a keen gaze over me, and a little too much understanding burns in his eyes. “I’m guessing that you want to stay one, so get to work. If you want to argue, take it up with our big-shot alumni rep. I have a million other things to do.”
I want to argue further, but Cole doesn’t give me a chance as he strides away. When I look around, it’s clear that I’m not the only one who has been relegated to household help. Another pledge is on his knees underneath the coffee table, gathering up empty bags of chips and beer cans into a trash bag. Another has a feather duster as he assiduously cleans the Havoc House emblem on the far wall.
Drake and I have a plan. But it does require that I play along with this nonsense for way longer than is comfortable.
It would be tempting to burn this house down if I thought I could get away with it.
The downstairs bathroom is about as disgusting as I assumed it would be, although I’ve seen worse. Most of these guys need to learn how to aim, but at least none of them have smeared anything on the walls or used the sink as a toilet. The worse thing I have to deal with are piss stains and an inch-thick layer of toothpaste on the countertop.
