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“Your aim’s off, baby girl.” My voice came out low and mocking, the remnants of my laughter still lingering in the back of my throat. If I were home right now, I would be sitting at the family table discussing the business, planning for growth. I’d bet my last dollar that Ryan was still playing lookout for Teddy, and that uncle Sal was walking the used car lot. Fuck, I missed home, and it hadn’t even been the first day in this place.
“My aim’s perfect, actually.” Her voice was thready and low, forcing me back into the present. “That was a warning, the next time you creep up on me, I’ll slice your ear off.” She spoke with the confidence and assurance of someone who knew exactly how to follow through with her threat.
I looked at her again, taking in her stance, the stiff set of her shoulders. I allowed my gaze to linger on her collarbone, sweeping down as I followed the length of her arm, all the way to her fingers until my gaze rested upon the knife held loosely in her hand. It was the perfect hold for throwing. When I was younger, my brother and I tired of using darts in my grandfather’s bar, upgrading to knives. Of course, my grandmother was livid - we blunted more of the bar’s knives that way than anything else, but it didn’t stop us - didn’t even slow us down. If anything, we egged each other on, tallying up how many knives each of us had blunted. The wooden paneling of the wall had never been replaced, the hollow grooves and slashes still visible today. If I took the girl who stood before me home, would she add to the tally? Leave her own mark of slashes and grooves?
“That so?” I leaned back against the kitchen island that stood opposite her, allowing the marble counter to take my weight. Her chin dropped down in a harsh nod, as if admitting such a thing cost her somehow.
“And how does a pretty littleSocietything like you, know how to throw a knife?” It was the question that had been ricocheting in my mind, even when I refused to give it the attention required. This girl maylooklike The Society, she may evenactthe role that The Society had thrust her in, but she was definitelynotSociety. A sleeper? A spy perhaps? Da had grown bold over the past couple of years, taking The Society’s instructions and somehow making them his own - making them something wholly different. I knew that we were the wildcard that they kept simply because they couldn’t afford tonotkeep us, and I wondered if the girl before me had shown their handtoosoon. If she had been smart about it, she would have waited until she had slipped beneath my skin - had wormed her way into my bedbeforethrowing knives at me. She was about to discover that she had made a grave error.
“I didn’t start out as part of The Society, guess I must have picked up a few tricks along the way.” Her shrug gave the illusion of nonchalance, but I grew up watching things - monitoring people, and her nerves were a tangible thing, beating between us. I smirked at her, throwing every bit of the O’Riley cocksure attitude at her that I possessed, even as my ears rang out in warning, even when I knew that she all but announced herself as an enemy of sorts.
“The Society’s good like that,” I shrugged, “they excel at finding people with hidden skills and making them their own -usingthem for their own devices.” I kept my expression even, but there was no hiding my distaste for them and the shit that they did. Sure, we killed - were notorious for it, but it was never without reason. We had earned our reputation through bloodying our own hands, not relying on the bought and blackmailed loyalty of others.
“Good thing I don’t plan on being used then.” Her statement was as much a confession as it was a challenge, and all I could do was scoff. The balls on this girl made me want to peel back her layers andunderstandher - see what made her tick. In any other circumstance, I’d be sweet-talking her, pushing her through the doorway of the bedroom, tumbling into the mattress.
“You realize that you’rehere,right? Undertheirroof, entered intotheirbreeding program, here to dotheirbidding.”
“And who am I going tobreedwith?” The way she spoke the word was filled with the type of hateful contempt directed at The Society I had only heard around the family dinner table. “You?” She followed up her question with another, taunting me - mocking me in a way that had the skin at the back of my neck prickling.
“Baby girl, you don’t have to worry aboutme, I wouldn’tbreedwith you if you were the last person on the planet. Fuck you? Yes. But there’s a very specific kind of woman that will be the mother of my children, and based on the two encounters I had with you, I can confidently say that you don’t measure up. So back yourself up there, dolly, and get down from your high horse.”
I turned my back to her, leaving her there with a knife in hand as I pushed my way out of the apartment, away from the woman that made me want to fuck and strangle her simultaneously.
Chapter Four : Mixing It Up
Marissa
Ihatedthathisremarks stung - hated that I allowed him to affect me so much.He’s Society. I kept reminding myself of that fact - kept repeating it in my mind over and over again as if that would ease the burn he left behind. I knew that I wasn’t Society material - had fought tonot besomeone like them. But that didn’t make hearing him spell it out for me any less shitty. And fuck these clothes. They weren’tme. They were uncomfortable and annoying, and all I wanted was a hoodie and some bootie shorts.
But this wasn’t about Pretty Boy and the way he insulted me and everything I stood for.
He’s not a boy.
My mind was un-fucking-helpful today. Sighing painfully, I trudged back towards my room to get ready for the mixer, and if my roommate's reaction was anything to go by, this would be just as shit as it sounded.
I shouldn’t have thrown the knife. It gave awaytoomuch, but I couldn’t help the reflex - not when he was sneaking up on me. I expected the men of The Society to open doors for me - to wine and dine me - to court me - all under the pretense of wanting tobreedwith me. I was here to be a trophy housewife and nothing more. Pretty enough to warrant a spot. Compliant enough to train. Stupid enough to either not notice or not care about the awful things the Society did. But he wasn’t like the other Society men. He was rough around the edges - not as polished as them. Don’t get me wrong, the man was goddamn beautiful, but it was a different kind of beauty - one that seemed inherent and not cultivated - as if he wasn’t distinctly bred to be a Society puppet - as if he were somethingmore, somethingother.
But those kinds of thoughts were dangerous. They had no place here because it was those kinds of thoughts that would get me killed.
He’s not like them.
My mind could be a persistent bitch at the best of times.
I willed myself tolet it go- to let the thoughts of him dissipate into nothingness - to not care that the only person to truly peak my interest had found mewanting- had told me I wasunworthyof him.
Fuck him, actually. Because men ain’t shit.
As with all things Society related, the mixer they insisted on having tonight would undoubtedly be a full on production. Which meant that what should be a place to mingle and grab a few drinks would turn into a fashion parade filled with snickering and smirking. In the end, I chose a bright pink, skin-tight dress that sat just above the knee. The length was decent, but the way the material clung to my body, hugging each curve and edge, the dress was neither classy, nor refined. In fact, it screamed ‘trying too hard.’ Which was exactly what I needed. I needed to be seen as only a possible serving among the selection of women here. And I needed my outfit to pinpoint me as someonenew- someone in need ofguidance. It didn’t help that the shocking pink of my dress only served to remind me of Chantal. Shelovedpink - had adored anything feminine, while I couldn’t wait to rid myself of the dress and burn it. Beyond the door of my bedroom, I heard the sound of movement - the sound of water running and the opening and closing of doors. No doubt, my roommate had returned to get ready.
I left while he was locked behind the door of his own room, taking the coward’s way out as I refused to face him.
I quickly discovered that The Society’s compound in Texas was filled with a few different bars and restaurants - all places to put you at ease, allow you to socialize, and keep you happy enough that you may not stop to question their commands when it came time to do their bidding. I missed the dive bar back home - the one where The Warden found me and trained me - the one where we struck our deal. But I was a long way from home - had been for a while now. In fact, the concept ofhomewas so foreign to me that I wasn’t sure I’d recognize it when I found it.
I stuck to the bar, noting the males gazes that swept across me, lingering on my cleavage. Despite being surrounded by guys, ninety percent of the time when I was with The Warden, I wasn’t accustomed to beinglookedat. Not like this. But then, I didn’t normally dress like this - didn’t allow myself to dress even remotely provocative, even when dresses made me feel pretty - feminine. I didn’t have the luxury of oversized sweatshirts here to serve as my shield - didn’t have the ability to simply throw a knife at the men gazing upon me. Instead, I forced myself to walk across the room to the bar, conveying the illusion that I was every bit the nervous Society newcomer that I was.
I drank some fruity pink drink that tasted like overly sweet syrup. Each sip was difficult to get down. It wasn’t my usual drink - wouldneverbe my usual drink, and yet here I was, sipping on it as if I was de-fucking-lighted becausethiswas what was expected of me.
It didn’t take long for the sharks to circle - for Society men to declare me as ‘fresh meat’. And still, I stood at the bar, seemingly oblivious. I wanted them to inch closer - wanted to see who would try and get in with the new girl - even if it was simply for a quick fuck. Many of the people here knew one another, and if they didn’t, they certainly knewaboutone another. I was the anomaly - I was the unexpected, which meant that they would be curious. And while I knew who they were - knew what they were capable of, I still waited to see what they would do - how they would interact with me - who would approach me. When my drink was finished, I ordered another, sipping it slower this time, swirling the pink liquid in the glass as I wondered if I would ever grow accustomed to the sickly sweet taste.
