Page 29 of Lethal Truths

It’s been twenty minutes, and Bruce still hasn’t returned from his phone call. I’m restless, fidgeting with my hands in my lap, bouncing my knee. The longer we sit here waiting for either the truth or another let down, the worse the anxiety grows in my stomach. This all feels like some monumental waste of time, and I hate knowing that Prudence is wandering around campus without my eyes on her just because Bruce wanted to have this talk.

“So what’s our plan?” Asher mutters under his breath, looking to Creed and then me.

“We keep Prudence safe for as long as we need to,” Creed drawls as if that’s obvious. To us, it is, but I still can’t tell where Asher stands on the matter. He could have been talking out of his ass earlier about only acting if he got some answers first.

I hang my head in defeat, feeling the pressure of time and death creeping over me. Creed and I can swear to Prudence’s protection all we want. Heather is a threat, too, but only if she gets Prudence alone again, which I won’t allow. So she should be safe, except if I can’t get Ash to back off, he’ll end her the first chance he gets. Even if he’s not sure he wants to anymore, he’ll do it just to appease his father. Unless I tell him something that will irreversibly alter his perspective…

With a heavy heart and panic thick in my throat, I tap Asher’s knee to grab his attention and then sign, We can’t fall for the promise of money or whatever else. Your dad isn’t who you think he is. You don’t know what goes on with him or that group.

Dropping his gaze to the floor, Asher mutters, “I know. But I have to find out, and that only seems possible by playing by their rules... The second we hand over Prudence and initiate, all the secrets of The Celestials will be ours, and we can decide what to do with them then.”

My brows drop low. Seriously? Why are you—

Asher squares his shoulders, his green eyes hard and angry. “Why not? The Celestials look out for their members! Why would I not want that? Nobody else will stand at my side, no matter what. Someone always wants something from me, but not them. They just want me, however I come, so long as I prove myself.”

I bite my lip, shaking my head at him. Sorrow lashes through me with Asher’s outburst, and the truth spills out from the wounds. I would have stood by you, Ash. I’ve always wanted you for exactly who you are. I swallow roughly, my heart rampaging against my ribs. Even after your dad slit my throat and left me for dead. But now? The Asher I loved is clearly gone.

“My— what?” Asher stutters.

“Holy fucking shit,” Creed breathes at almost the same time. “Griff, man, I… I mean… Holy shit,” he stammers, whiskey eyes dropping to the scar on my throat.

Instinctively, I bring my hand to the old wound, the skin burning just like it did the day Bruce almost killed me. I hold Asher’s gaze, silently begging him to believe me, praying to whoever might be listening that my friend will come back to me and the degenerate asshole he was becoming vanishes for good.

“Griffin,” Asher chokes out, his face sickeningly pale.

Before he can utter another word, Bruce strides into the living room with a sleazy smile. “This has been fun, but I need to get going. Urgent matters to attend to.” He scans over us, pausing a fraction too long on Asher. Frowning, he says, “I hope you’ll remember your place before it’s too late. I’d hate to lose three promising initiates to some ungodly accident.”

19

Prudence

After hardly paying attention in my morning class, I’m strolling through the main quad of campus with my mind a million miles away. It was a long, rough night and my mood has been shit because of it. It all started with a simple phone call from my mom, and went downhill from there like a car slamming the brakes on ice, on its way to an inevitable crash.

Dramatic? Yeah, I don’t care.

As I’m walking down a crowded path, arms crossed over myself to keep my jean jacket closed over my black hoodie, I try to pinpoint exactly where things went so fucking horribly. Was it when I decided to confront Asher with a knife? When he got the upper hand and kissed me? When Creed walked in at the most inopportune moment? Or was it when I woke in the early hours of the morning to find Asher getting abused by his father?

Oh, and let’s not forget the thinly veiled threat from said father before he left me to suffer with my thoughts.

Jesus Christ, I need a drink. I’m done for the day. Homework and socializing and everything else can wait until tomorrow. Maybe even the day after. Fuck it, let’s shove all responsibilities off until the weekend.

But even as I consider doing just that, another more pressing matter rears its ugly head in my mind and demands attention. Creed hasn’t churned up anything helpful in the days since he promised his help, and even though I kind of said I’d stay out of it… Sorry, Creed. With Asher’s dad staying at the frat house for a few days for some unknown reason, I may just have the perfect in. The thing I’ve been searching for since the dreaded day I stepped foot on campus. Through him, I might be able to get some long awaited answers about The Celestials.

How, I’m not sure. But I have to figure something out before he leaves. I cannot waste the opportunity that quite literally came knocking in the middle of the night.

With wayward plans forming and quickly getting rejected in my mind, I distractedly pull out my cell and shoot off a text to Creed.

Me: Almost back to Greek Row. Can I stop by to see you or is your unwelcome guest still monopolizing your time?

I hit send with a frown, wondering what the hell could have taken so long? Creed told me early this morning that Bruce — Asher’s dad — requested a private chat with the three guys and that he’d be late getting to class. But late turned into not showing up at all, and the few messages I’ve sent have gone unanswered. I’m practically choking on my worry, positive something bad has happened and Bruce is at the center of it.

Picking up my speed, I hurriedly cross the street and make my way down Greek Row. I’m torn between going to the A.Chi.O. house and letting Annie talk me down or heading straight to the Beta Ep. house to find my guys— or, uh, my Creed. Screwing up my face, I sternly remind myself that Asher and Griffin are on my shit list and there they’ll stay until my dying breath.

If you forgave me, why not give Griff and Ash another chance? I was just as brutal as they were, a voice that sounds an awful lot like Creed’s chimes so helpfully in my head.

“Asher is a fucking dick, and Griffin… I have no words for that bastard,” I snap, realizing too late that I’m actually speaking to myself out loud and people are starting to give me a wide berth on the sidewalk. I flash an awkward smile at some girl that I vaguely recognize before turning onto the pavement that leads up to my sorority house.

I’m shocked I haven’t gotten thrown out of Greek life already. It’s not like I’ve participated in any of the events or fundraisers. The only reason I’m here is because my mom mentioned Greeks a few times, on her worse days. The Greeks are Latins, Prudence. I thought getting into a sorority would help point me in the right direction, but I didn’t realize how much bullshit and bonding happens within these walls. Have I mentioned I’m anti-social to my very core?

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