“Fine,” he says, pouting. When he does that, there’s almost a boyish charm to him instead of his usual honeyed menace. For a brief second, he’s human. Then it’s gone. “Remember, text me. Or else.”
“Or else what?”
But he doesn’t answer, flashing me a grin, swinging his jacket over his shoulder. It lands in a dark cascade across his back, like it’s a cape and he’s the handsome supervillain.
Myhandsome supervillain.
And then he’s gone.
11
RYAN
Inever thought I’d be dying to return to school, but I am. Kane drops a message in the group chat every two hours to make sure I’m alive, Gideon wants me to give him the play-by-play, and Torin updates me on Griff. Rhys is quiet, but I know he’s keeping up with the conversation because he reacts to comments.
If I knew what was happening, I’d tell them, but I don’t. Father’s driver pulled through a long iron gate after he was buzzed in. We’ve been winding up a long driveway, my stomach knotting with dread. I get the distinct sense that the gate isn’t just for keeping people out, but in. We pull up to a sizable house. Six families could live here. Icy rain pelts against my face, and the wind howls through my bones. Stepping into the entryway isn’t much relief. I rub my arms, shivering. You’d think someone with a house this size could afford to turn on the heat.
“The dining room’s this way,” the man—the house staff—says, leading us into an obnoxiously large dining room, with tall windows that aren’t doing anything for the ambiance on a day like today.
At the head of the table sits Gregory Kline. My blood goes cold. I think of that damn gate. Father wouldn’t leave me here … would he?
I turn to Father. “What’s going on?” His threats from the summer come to mind about worse prisons. Is that what he’s planning? The same suffocating pressure I get when I’m in the tank seizes my lungs.
Okay, slow breaths. Do not have a fucking panic attack in front of Gregory Kline.
“Sit, Ryan. Don’t be rude. Hello, Gregory. It’s good to see you.”
Kline stands, and they embrace in a quick hug. Gregory holds it just a little too long—if you ask me—and Father has to untangle himself from his arms.
Yeah, that’s not happening to me. I offer the man a handshake. “Ryan,” he says, smiling a helluva lot brighter than this room. Such a strange man. “It’s good to see you again.”
I take a shallow breath, my suit too constricting for anything else. This could all be a threat. Father would go this far to make a point. He’s a man of action over words.
But is this just a threat? Or does Kline have a fucking cage for me?
“Would you like something to drink, Ryan?” Kline asks.
“Water’s good for me,” I say automatically. No drinking. No sex. No overindulging period.
Except you have had sex recently, Ryan. With Tate. Multiple times.I smile to myself.
“I like that,” Kline says, his eyes surveying my body. “Take the jacket off.”
I almost choke on my own spit. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He sips whatever he’s got in his glass, attention diverting briefly to his staff. “Pour Henry two fingers of the twenty-five-year Macallan.”
I glance at Father. Is he really gonna let this guy run the show? As much as he wants to punish me, we’re still Savages, we don’t bow to anyone. Father nods. In other words,Take off your jacket, Ryan.
Alright, fine, but that’s all I’m doing. Anything else, and I walk. I wish Tate were here. Love to see what he’d do in this situation. Taking off my charcoal blazer slowly, I hang it over the chair and sit. Father follows suit.
Kline and Father make small talk while dinner’s served by the staff. Oh, god. I hope they’re staff. But who the fuck knows with the rumors I’ve heard about this guy. The“Klines don’t let their spouses out” rumor seemed pretty far-fetched to me until I saw that gate. Now? I shiver. I don’t know what to believe. This whole ambiance is givingThe Silence of the LambsandThe People Under the Stairs.
I sit back, hands folded on my lap, finding it hard to conjure an appetite. “Why are we here?” I finally cut in. Father will chastise me later for being rude, but I’m done with the suspense.
They have a private conversation with their eyes, and if I didn’t already suspect that my reason for being here was because I was about to become the next Mr. Kline, I’d think they were about to announcetheirengagement.
They seem in sync. Just sayin’.
