Page 35 of Vicious King

11

Elias

I narrowedmy eyes and took aim with my rifle. The gunshot cracked in the air as loud as thunder. I took the target down easily, smiling with satisfaction as countless gray shards plummeted to the snowy ground.

“You’re getting better,” my father said, watching with one hand pressed against his forehead, shielding his eyes from the bright sky. It was gray, but the sun was peeking through a cloud right above us.

I nodded and took aim at the next target as it shot out from the trap thrower. I hit it perfectly.

I knew why I was getting so much better. Since that fateful day on the island all those weeks ago, when I pulled Tatum off that cliff, the whole world seemed sharper and clearer to me. Colors brighter. Sounds louder. Music sweeter.

Every day, our relationship seemed to improve. She spoke more, kissed me more, begged me more. Her passion for me was fiery and constant. It seemed real this time, unlike the games she used to play where she pretended to want and obey me when all the while she hated being with me and constantly plotted behind my back.

She’d really settled in here, and she seemed to love being mine now. All mine. I was beyond pleased with the miraculous turnaround. I guess my father was right. She just needed some time to get used to her new life. She chose it for herself, after all.

Didn’t she?

A sharp jolt shot through me at the thought. I was only ninety-nine percent sure right now. Close to absolute certainty, but not close enough.

My recent conversation with Dr. Paulson was still playing on my mind, raising all sorts of doubts about the secret society. I wanted to believe there was an innocent explanation for all the weirdness surrounding the missing woman who turned out to be my biological mother, but I couldn’t shake the creeping feeling that something strange was going on.

I’d always been told that every woman at the Lodge was there willingly. That the guards were there for their protection, not to keep them trapped inside. But now I kept wondering if Camille Gorham was brought here against her will and forced to donate her eggs to my parents. Why else would she have vanished like that before I was even conceived? It didn’t make any sense.

I’d looked up the case online. Camille came from a seemingly decent family, and when she went missing, all her friends and relatives were shocked and distraught. Some of them were still searching for her and hoping for new developments even though over two decades had passed since she disappeared. They all said she wasn’t the type to run away or get in trouble.

Like Dr. Paulson suggested the other day, there was a chance she wanted to work for Crown and Dagger and simply didn’t want anyone to know. She could’ve signed all the contracts and taken off without a word to anyone, then changed her name after her service was complete so that no one could ever find her again. But why would she do that? By all accounts, she loved her family.

So as horrible and outrageous as it sounded, it was beginning to seem like she may have been forced to give up her eggs as a captive with Crown and Dagger. There weren’t many other explanations as to how I was conceived using her genetic material in mid-1993 when she went missing in early 1992.

If that were the case, then there was a chance Tatum was here against her will too. Any number of the other girls as well.

I didn’t even want to think about the ramifications if that were the case. It was too shocking, too appalling. All I could really do was wait until I reached the third level—if I ever did—to find out the truth. It was the only way I’d ever know for sure if something was rotten at the core of Crown and Dagger.

“Pull!”

I gritted my teeth and fired at another target, trying to dismiss the insidious thoughts. Jesus. I was starting to sound like one of those nutjob conspiracy theorists who stood on street corners in major cities, ranting and raving about a New World Order and the Illuminati.

Clearly, I was overthinking things. Spinning in pointless circles, forging connections where there were none, overreacting to everything.

I mean, Christ... of course the Lodge girls weren’t secretly captives. That was ridiculous. The cover-up my father and the other society members would have to engage in over the years was enormous. Besides that, Tatum had admitted to selling herself here, back when she was still on the island. I’d even seen the contract with her signature on it.

I suppose Camille Gorham could’ve donated her eggs and had them frozen before she went missing. I knew Dr. Paulson said it was unlikely as the egg freezing technology wasn’t as good back then as it was now, but I’d done a bit of research into it. There were cases of frozen oocytes being used for IVF as far back as 1988. So even though it was incredibly rare back in those days, it still happened on occasion, and my parents would’ve had access to the best doctors and most cutting-edge medical tech due to their wealth.

Camille could’ve donated her eggs to my parents in late 1991 in return for some cash to help her out with expensive student loans, and then she could’ve gone missing in early 1992 under circumstances that had nothing to do with being hauled off to captivity. Perhaps she got unlucky and ran into a psychotic killer on her way home one night. Terrible as it was, it happened sometimes.

Yes, that had to be it.

But even though there was likely an innocent explanation for everything, and the girls were all here willingly, I still wanted to get to the bottom of it. Just for peace of mind. As always, that meant keeping my thoughts entirely to myself and trying my best to get to the third level of the society.

Right now, I wasn’t sure I’d even be considered for it, given how short my father had been with me today. He’d invited me to the Lodge for some shooting but he’d barely said two words to me all afternoon.

I had a sneaking suspicion it was because of last night. I was expected to share Tatum with the other men at the party, but I didn’t want to let any of them touch her. She was mine. The thought of any other men laying their hands on her made me want to punch someone’s teeth out.

I also didn’t participate in any activities with the other women at the party, which was considered quite strange at those events. But I didn’t want to do that either. Why touch anyone else when I already had the perfect girl to satisfy all my needs? No one else’s lips could possibly be sweeter than Tatum’s. No one else’s pussy could be tighter or warmer or wetter.

“Nice of you to attend last night’s party,” Dad finally said. His voice was stiff and sour, confirming my suspicions. He was pissed.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I said, pretending I didn’t notice his attitude. As far as I knew, Lodge party attendance was mandatory for anyone who wanted to be considered for the third level. So even if I didn’t particularly want to go to any of them, I had to.

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