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The Society mixer was legendary, even amongst us - thedregsof Society. Only that wasn’t entirely true because we weren’t dregs - not really, because they still had ausefor us - stillneededus in some way or form.I hadonce read a quote stating that nothing could enslave us if we simply freed our mind, and, in a way, it was true - because a free mind either meant that you were not mentally present to take in your bullshit surroundings, or you were dead. Either weren’t an option for me - not with Gemma’s life on the line.
When so much of yourself was stripped away - taken by force and manipulation, you found yourself clawing at the pieces you could keep for yourself - the ones that belonged solely toyou. The pieces that were therebeforeyou collided with them.
Red. It was a color I liked as a boy. The color of a firetruck - the color of race cars - the color of lipstick. But as I grew older, became more aware of my surroundings and how I came to be here, I understood that red was the color of passion, which was fine and all if you didn’t account for that fact that anger belonged to that very large category that people defined aspassion. No one looked at a guy punching holes in the wall and cooed,‘he’s sopassionate.’
Nah. Being passionate was problematic. I knew that first hand. It was why I didn’t really drink at these things - didn’t partake in the initial festivities. Instead, I waited for the players belonging to The Society to lay down the boardgame - to set up the rules. It was a game ofwatchandthenmove because I wasn’t about to touch some Society pussy that was already spoken for. There was no surer way to be killed. And Society bitches would sell you out just as quickly as they would fuck you.
“Where’d you get the booze?” I arched my brow at Holly as she tipped the clear bottle upwards, allowing the liquid to trickle between her lips. It was an unspoken tradition of sorts that when The Society had their initiation mixer, we partook in our own festivities. It made sense, really. No one needed us - there were no rooms to clean, no people to train, no members of the upper class that neededfucking.
They were all busy, which meant that we had asliver of freedom - a small window of time where we weren’twatched- weren’tneeded.
“A gift.” Holly grinned up at me, her full lips pulling back into something blindingly beautiful. It was probably the reason they kept her. I snorted, knowing that no good could come from her receiving gifts from some Society fuck.I watched her in the stairwell as she grinned gleefully.
“You want some?” She tipped the bottle in my direction, but I simply shook my head. I couldn’t afford to drink in my current state, not when my anger was so close to the surface. Jack didn’t have the same reservations, stepping forward to snatch the bottle from Holly’s grip. But it wasn’t Jack I was watching - it was Holly. She had been drinking more lately. The shadows beneath her eyes told the truth of what lurked beneath the surface of the easy-going party girl.
Maybe I could get her out. The thought was ludicrous - crazy, really, but she didn’t have the same noose around her neck that I did - she didn’t haveGemmato think about.
I shook the thought from my mind, knowing full well that entertaining such an idea wasdangerous-deadly. But the thought grew roots, digging deep into my skull, refusing to let go as it niggled at me consistently.
“Holy fucking beelzebub!” Jack exclaimed as he spluttered and coughed, and, this time, his ludicrous way of cursing made Mia smile. It was a rare thing to see the girl smile, but, like Holly, it was a beautiful thing.
Maybe I could speak to Raquel - just ask her, see if there was a possibility.
It was a dangerous line of thinking, but there it was - the spark of a plan - the flint to an idea - some sort of action. The only problem was that such a flint could burn the whole fucking house down with us in it. “Is thatmoonshine?” Jack’s eyes grew glazed as he glared at the bottle warily.
“Yes.” Holly grinned gleefully, “he brought memoonshineafter I told him how much I missed it.”
My hair prickled at the back of my neck because this wasn’t a gift that meant nothing - this wasn’t a diamond or purse to keep the servant girl quiet, this was somethingpersonal- this was something that Holly would attach meaning to.
Dangerous. So fucking dangerous.
Still, I remained still, my back flush against the wall, my lids in that half closed stance that gave off the air that I didn’t give a fuck.
I needed to speak to Raquel - needed to get Holly the fuck out of here. It didn’t have to impact Gemma - didn’t have to change the shit I was doing with Raquel.
Holly was proof that you could take the girl out of the South, but you couldn’t steal the South from the girl. I wasn’t sure exactly how long she’d been with The Society, but I knew it’d been years, and, yet, even surrounded by the pomp and prestige of the upper class, she hadn’t lost her southern twang.
“Should we watch them from the balcony above?” This time, it was Mia who voiced the question, and I didn’t miss the look of utter shock and delight that seemed to shudder through Holly at her suggestion. But Mia didn’t look excited, she lookedpensive, and I knew that she simply wanted to watch them to get a feel for what we were dealing with this time round. If The Society girls were bitches, the men were entitled assholes, and not for the first time, I found myself counting my lucky stars for being born with a cock between my legs.
But none of that mattered - not really, because between the four of us, the answer was a given.
We took the servants' staircase, creeping our way out to the small internal balcony that overlooked the bar below. The platform wastiny, which meant that we stood together, squished and uncomfortable, looking upon those who governed us.Did they know what became of us? Were they aware of the power they held over people like us?They probably did - probably didn’t give a flying fuck, not when they blackmailed one another more than they blackmailed us. It was a sobering thought. They were vipers, preying on their own just as easily as they preyed on outsiders, and it was all with one goal in mind: to stay ahead of the game and maintain power.
Jack and I pulled back, allowing the girls to stand before us as we looked over their shoulders. If anyone looked up and realized who we were, we would be in trouble. We weren’t permitted to be at such events, but the funny thing about the wealthy upperclass was that theyrarelylooked up - they always fucking assumed that they were at the top, and that kind of thinking would be their pitfall.
I forced the thoughts of conversations with Raquel from my mind. Forced myself to forget the ongoing text messages between myself andNats. In truth, I wanted to tell Holly - include her - share this with someone other than myself. But I couldn’t risk it - not when there were so many lives at stake.
My gaze swept across the scene below, categorizing everything I saw. It was one of the benefits of being shipped off to the military - as if I were some unruly child instead of a captive, fighting for his life daily. Prison took many forms, and prisoners weren’t always shackled. It’s the only thing that gave me pause when I looked down and saw Raquel.
She played her part well, and if I didn’t know her, it would be easy to assume that she was just like all the other Society bitches. Her whiskey-colored hair shone beneath the lights as she danced her way towards the bar, positioning herself next to some leggy dark-haired girl. That was Raquel for you - she wasalwaysdancing -alwaysmoving. She would probably dance her way through a gun fight.
As expected, the golden boys of The Society sat crowded in a corner, no doubt up to one of their frat-boyish games. In any other setting, it may have been innocent, but there was nothing innocent about these Society fucks and the people in it. But where I looked upon them in disdain, I felt Holly vibrate with excitement becausethere- below us - was the one and only Paul Mae. I would know his buzz cut anywhere - it was a goddamn mockery of every military soldier in existence. They knew it, and we knew it, too, but there wasn’t a damn thing we could do about it.
I took in the person that represented the Mae family - the person that their dreams, hopes, and desires rested upon, and just as I mentally accounted for him, so I dismissed him. The golden boys were rowdy, as I imagined any frat house might have been. The closest I had come to experiencing that level of male friendship had been on my military assignments, where our beds were sometimes metal bunks, hammocks, or, more often, the floor itself. But even then, those moments were fleeting - stolen, because, more often than not, the men I served with didn’t return.
Jack scanned the crowd right along with me, but where I was looking for threats, he was searching for victory. I knew the instant Jack saw him. Sawyer was working the bar tonight - clean and efficient as always, but it was as if he could sense Jack standing above them all with the rest of us, and when Sawyer’s gaze clashed with Jack’s, he couldn’t hide the smirk that crested his lips. The two of them had been an item for as long as I had known Jack. They were never obvious about it - never flaunted their relationship, and I was almost certain that The Society didn’t know - because if they did, they would certainly end it. It warmed something within me to know that they had stolen their own piece of happiness right under The Society’s nose - that even though the odds were stacked against them, they woke up each day anddefiedthem. I was under no illusions that the termexclusivitywas used loosely between them because when one of your sole functions of serving The Society members was to fuck them, it was difficult to be faithful to someone you chose for yourself. Still, they chose each other, and that was something worth treasuring - worth admiring.
Even though none of The Society members dared totouchme since I had returned, it didn’t stop the memories from creeping into my thoughts - from paralyzing me with fear. The phantom touches skated against my skin, slicking my body with anxious sweat in the dead of night.
