Page 110 of Raise Hell

Makes me wonder if the hierarchy doesn’t get left behind after graduation, even between full members of Havoc House.

“May I be of any assistance, sir?” the concierge asks my father, glaring at me.

“That’s fine, Jenkins You may go.”

Jenkins looks completely dejected, like he actually expects my father to ask him to bodily remove me from the building.

“But sir—”

“I said, it’s fine. Latch the door behind you.”

Jenkins backs slowly away, gaze never leaving me. He looks at me the same way high-end shop clerks do before I pull out my black metal AMEX card. Even a dude dressed head-to-toe in designer labels can’t be trusted if his skin is darker than a paper bag.

“Go on, Jenkins,” I mock.

“I shall be just outside the door.” He speaks to my father, but continues to watch me with open suspicion. Jenkins really acts like he’d be willing to step into the ring. “Call for me should you need assistance.”

Good luck with that, buddy. I’ll snap you in half like an aging twig.

But his bravery almost makes me admire the skinny old goat.

“It is so hard to find good help these days,” I sigh as soon as the door closes behind Jenkins.

My father doesn’t bother with pleasantries. “What do you want, Drake?”

“I saw the video.”

He doesn’t bother to deny its existence. “How?”

“None of your business.” I stalk closer until only the billiard table separates us. “Is this an Initiation? Is this video why you have such a hard-on for Olivia Pratt? Tell me the truth, for once in your life.”

“I have never lied to you. Not even when you were young and I told you that I never wanted you for a son. Why would I spare you a harsh truth now?”

My father uses a voice that is so very reasonable when he tells me the one thing that would hurt any child the most to hear from the man who fathered them.

Even if he means it, his hope is that I’ll get distracted enough by my hurt feelings to forget why I came.

He’ll need to get meaner than that.

“Well, if those dried up balls of yours were a little more useful, then you wouldn’t have to be dealing with me. You really have no one to blame but yourself.”

“Olivia Pratt is a whore, but at least she isn’t her father’s greatest disappointment. I can’t speak of the Initiation, and you know that. But yes, the alumni would prefer if that video never sees the light of day.” His smile is cool. “Is that all you needed?”

At the very least, my father has no right to shame anyone for what they’ve done with their own bodies.

I’m almost certain that an untreated case of syphilis is what rendered him sterile. The great Anton Van Koch waited too long to get himself checked out because he was convinced no mere venereal disease would dare infect him.

Unless we’re only talking oral or Olivia had a singular interest in rear entrances only before we met, I should know better than anyone that she isn’t a whore.

Harder than nails when her back is up, but not a whore.

I’m nearly one hundred percent sure she was a virgin up until a few weeks ago.

But I’ve seen video proof of the opposite, so I know it has to be true, even if I still can’t bring myself to believe it.

The only explanation is that Olivia Pratt has to be a liar.

My hands clench. I resist the urge to punch that smug smile off my father’s face.

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