Page 5 of Look What You Made Me Do

Once we’re all robed-up, we’re ushered into the ballroom, which is down the hall, on the far side of the house. It’s the room we use for ceremonies that includes all members because it’s the only spot in the house large enough to accommodate everyone.

Inside the ballroom, the lights are dimmed, and candles flicker around the edge of the room. This place is creepy on a normal day, but the orange flickering glow of the candles takes that to a whole new level. It’s giving Victorian seance vibes.

Everyone instinctively forms a large circle, shoulder to shoulder, naturally falling into complete silence. The only sounds are our shoes shuffling against the wood floors as we position ourselves.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Mason appears in the center of the circle, cloaked like the rest of us, his chin held high, a gold stick in his hand. He calls everyone to attention, even though we’re already silent and fucking staring at him.

“The Sacred Sons,” he says, introducing them with a flourish of his arm like he’s announcing a band at Coachella. We all stomp our feet in unison, ending on a“Hoo-ah!”

So much of what happens in the society is theatrics, and I work hard to keep from rolling my eyes. But I’m here, so whatever. I just need to get through the night, so I can go back to ignoring all these people, except for Alexis, of course.

The Sacred Sons and their consorts file into the center of the circle. Jackson, Christian, Ash, and Lucas are at the center of all this, but it’s Lucas who takes the lead because he’s the oldest. I mean, technically. I think Christian is only younger by a minute. But in a patriarchy like this, one minute might as well be a lifetime.

Lucas’ hard gaze sweeps the circle. “Tonight, brothers and sisters, we honor our forefathers. It is due totheirforesight,theirsacrifice, andtheirleadership that this venerable society exists today.”

More stomping, and another“Hoo-ah!”

Raising his arms, Lucas lapses into a long string of Latin that none of us understands. I half-wonder ifheeven knows what he’s saying. He could be vowing to sacrifice babies for all we know, but no one seems to care. As long as they’re part of the cool crowd, they don’t give a fuck.

I do, though. I give a fuck.

Everyone chants a couple of things in unison, and then, thankfully, the ceremony starts wrapping up. Tonight is more about the drunken revelry afterward. That’s what Founders Day isreallyabout. Honoring our forefathers by drinking to excess,and fucking in dark corners. You know, typical secret society mayhem.

Lucas closes out the official part of the ceremony with the ominous words, “'Semper Fidelis.”Always loyal.I don’t know why, but in my head, I’ve always added, “or else…” to the end of that statement.

Once the official ceremony is done, we remove our robes and hand them over to members who will hang them back up for us. I guess shaving my legs was necessary, after all.

On the far side of the giant room, the DJ is already set up on a platform and starts pumping out music. The candles are snuffed out, and colored lights start flickering in time with the pulse of the bass.

Someone is passing drinks around, and Alexis grabs us both a glass. It’s straight rum—the expensive kind—and I drain it in one swallow, my asshole puckering as the syrupy liquid burns down my throat like molten lava.

Daymn.

“Whew!” I say, blinking. “That shit made my eyes water.”

Alexis laughs, downing her own drink. She takes our empty glasses and sets them aside.

“Oh, shit,” she says when the song switches. She moves her body in time with the rhythm of music, her hips swaying energetically. She’s wearing a short black peasant dress that shows off her long legs. “Here we go. It’s time to partayyy.”

The rum is already working its way through my bloodstream, but even that isn’t enough to get me dancing. Alexis isn’t going to take no for an answer, though. She knows I hate being here, and she’s determined to cheer me up.

Grabbing my hands, she forces me to sway with her. “Come on,” she says, pouting. “You don’t want to dishonor the founding fathers, do you?”

I can’t help but smile as she pulls me close, smoothing her hands over my hips, and guiding me as we both find the flow. The base pulses through me, and soon I’m sweating, completely lost in the music.

Maybe Alexis was right. Maybe I did need this.

Two more drinks later, I’m feelingreallygood. And for the first time in two months, I’m not thinking about Gabriel, or what people think of me. The freedom of that is intoxicating. It feels like a two-ton weight has been lifted off my shoulders. And even if it’s only temporary, it feels amazing.

Alexis leaves to find us more drinks, and someone pushes up against me from behind. I can tell it’s a guy because there’s a veryfirmappendage shoved against my ass. I don’t look back to see who it is. I just keep dancing, jerking my hips, grinding my ass into whoever it is. I’m drunk enough now to throw caution to the wind and let myself go.

When it’s obvious I’m cool with his attention, the guy smooths his large hands over my hips, and pulls me more firmly against his hard shaft as if to say,“You want this?”

Yes, please, and thank you.

I haven’t had sex in months. I don’t even know the last time, because Gabriel and I were in such a bad place toward the end that sex wasn’t even a consideration. You have to get along for more than five minutes for shit like that to happen.

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