Page 22 of Don't You Pucking Dare

"Yeah," I manage, trying to slow my racing pulse from her barging in here. "You didn't have to come back."

She flops onto her bed, all bangles and bright patterns against her boho blanket. "When my roomie thinks someone's been creeping around our room? Yeah, I did."

I watch her settle in, guilt gnawing at my stomach. Not just for what she almost walked in on, but for the questions burning in my throat. "Can I ask you something weird?"

"Weirder than some stalker breaking into our room?" She props herself up on an elbow, dark eyes curious.

"The Reapers." The name feels dangerous on my tongue. "What do you really know about them?"

"Besides that we went to their party and they wear masks?" Her expression shifts, something careful entering her voice. "What do you want to know?"

I pull my knees to my chest, suddenly cold. "They're not just a fraternity, are they? I mean, what kind of frat has a mansion off campus and guys in masks?"

"My cousin dated one of them," she says slowly. "Ex-Reaper, if you believe there is such a thing." She leans forward, voice dropping. "The fraternity stuff? That's their cover— it's all smoke and mirrors. But it’s a secret society."

"Secret society?"

Kiah wraps her blanket tighter, like armor. "They're more like... judges. Jury. Executioners."

Ice slides down my spine. "What do you mean, executioners?"

"The stories say they handle justice their own way. Outside the law." She watches my face carefully. "Why are you asking about them, Lola? Did something happen at the party?"

The masked stranger's touch burns in my memory. His words echo. Tell your father I said hello.

"Just curious," I say, but my hands shake as I smooth my blanket. What kind of darkness has been waiting around for my dumb curiosity?

"They don't think of it as murder," Kiah says, her voice dropping. "More like... taking out the trash. And once you're in their inner circle, they take care of you. But cross them?" She shakes her head. "People disappear."

I sink deeper into my pillows, my father's letter burning in my mind. A secret society of masked men who play judge, jury, and executioner. Who can grant wishes or destroy lives.

"You're not actually interested in this, are you?" Kiah asks, worry creeping into her voice. "Because this isn't some story where the dangerous guy sweeps you off your feet. The Reapers are real. And they're lethal."

Lethal?

Right.

She stares at her phone, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And with the feeling that someone's still watching.

My phone buzzes, and I’m expecting it to be Levi.

It’s not.

An email from an address I don't recognize stops my heart.

Re: Your Father's Location - Ready to know the truth, Duchess?

My hands shake as I read the word: Duchess. This is him, the guy from the garden.

Sweet Duchess,

Want to know where Daddy's been hiding?

If you do, send me a video of you finger fucking yourself like you were in the garden that night.

Give me the full view, and I'll send you another clue.

Oh, and Duchess? Make it good. I want to hear you. I have your journal, and these dark little melodies tell me you've got quite the imagination.

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