Page 37 of Destroying Everleigh

Jameson continued talking to the girl next to him while I slipped into my own thoughts. I’d met Everleigh freshman year in high school. Ash came back to school one day, hand in hand with a girl I’d only seen briefly in the halls while passing. She wasn’t typically the type he went after, so I never expected it to last. But Ash also wasn’t the kind to ask a girl out. I figured she had to have been special if he was falling at her feet. He used to give us all kinds of updates about their relationship. Come to find out she was a virgin, which was even further from the kinds of girls he used to chase after.

It took him months before she finally relented and had sex with him.

They’d been inseparable. From the time he started bringing her around, to the time she up and cheated on him with his older brother. If she knew half the things we did about Dakota, she never would have even been with him alone in the first place. The entire situation felt off. She wouldn’t have sex with me or Jamie, but spread her legs for someone she barely knew, whowas married, after she’d made it abundantly clear earlier that year that she didn’t do casual hookups.

My thoughts were brought to a screeching halt when the Dean’s office door creaked open. An older man stood in the doorway, reeking of money. An expensive watch hugged his wrist, a suit ironed against his body. His beady eyes flicked from me, to Jameson, and stilled on his assistant who obviously wasn’t doing her job. His lips drew into a tight line, disapproval radiating off of him.

Jocelyn cowered beneath his intense stare before jerking out of the seat and strolling back to her desk. I’d only met the dean once, and he’d been a lot friendlier during that encounter.

Dean Bishop turned to us at last once his assistant was safely tucked away, resuming her work. “You wanted to speak with me?” he asked, his voice much lighter than the glower etched into his weathered features.

Jameson stood, leaving me to mirror his movements. “Yes,” he answered.

Dean Bishop motioned us toward his awaiting office. Once we were inside, I cast a glance around. The room was bigger than expected with a large desk situated in front of a large glass window. He sank down behind it and I pulled the door closed, giving us some privacy.

Jamie didn’t wait for permission. He walked with an air of confidence, slipping into one of the seats adjacent to the dean. Hesitantly, I followed, doing the same.

“We were wondering what we had to do in order to create our own fraternity,” Jameson explained, getting straight to the point. “I understand that most, if not all, of the fraternities have been here for years, or even longer. But if there’s anything we can do to add a new one to the mix, we’d like to know how.”

I swallowed the snort that threatened to escape me at his sudden professionalism. The dean didn’t seem all that surprised by the question, though. Like hundreds have asked before us.

“Ah, yes.” The dean replied, sinking back into his chair. “We do have one open fraternity house that’s not currently in use, but no one seems to want it.”

A stitch tugged at my brows. “Is something wrong with it?” I asked.

“No.” He sighed, like he didn’t want to be having this conversation. “It used to be a sorority house. A few years ago, one of the girls committed suicide by jumping off the balcony. No one has been interested in it since.”

My eyes snapped to Jameson’s. I could see why people didn’t want it. That was fucking tragic. But death didn’t scare us. He glanced back at me, his face unreadable.

“We’ll take it.” He shrugged.

The dean’s eyes widened. “You’re sure?” he asked. “Most people know of its history and won’t even step foot inside it.”

“Yeah. We’re sure. If we have that much of a problem with it, at least we’ll have somewhere else to sleep rather than the dorms.”

Dean Bishop nodded, seemingly relieved that someone was willing to take it off his hands. “Of course. I can get some contracts made up for you two on Monday. Will you be available to go over them the following day?”

“Sure,” he agreed.

I leaned forward in my seat, unable to help myself. “Do you know why the girl committed suicide?” I questioned. Death has always fascinated me in a way. Not the act itself, but the how and the why.

The dean tensed for a moment and shook his head. “Nobody knows for sure. There is a lot of drama within sororities. It could have been over that, over a boy, or something entirely personal.”

Jameson shot me a glare, pissed that I’d even ask when the dean was handing us a frat house on a silver platter. I shrugged in response.

When neither one of us commented on it further, the dean cleared his throat. “Once the contracts are signed, I’ll have the keys ready for you.”

“Thanks,” Jameson said before rising. “We’ll be seeing you soon, then.”

We slipped into our assigned seats in Biostatistics. Jameson has made it a habit of finding some girl to throw a drink on Everleigh daily. She’d gotten smarter, though, and started bringing a change of clothes after the first attack. The only evidence that she’d been assaulted with a beverage were the tips of her long hair being damp. It was amateur, but it pissed her off, so that was satisfying enough.

I’ve always had a sweet spot for revenge. Even in my younger years. When someone crossed a line that resulted in your pain, there was a sweet satisfaction that came from making them pay for it. There was a rush of adrenaline that pooled in the depths of my system when I leveled that playing field. Everleigh might not have broken my heart, but she had put a knife in my back when she chose to do what she did. Jameson and Ash suffered more for her disloyalty than I could have even imagined. Then again, I knew what that was like. Crystal had been my girlfriend for over a year, after all.

Funny enough, in the most unexpected turn of events, Everleigh was even more of a snake than my former girlfriend.Little E had lured us in with her kindness, her innocence. She made us trust her so completely that she’d become one of us. Unlike Crystal, who was a known slut from the start and was direct as shit at her intentions, Everleigh was the complete opposite. Her betrayal blindsided all of us, even Jameson who was more observant with that kind of thing.

Because of that, she would pay more deeply than anyone else ever has by our hands. It truly helped that one of us was in every single class she had. Like fate was finally on our side for once, offering us the bitch on a silver platter. To twist her and destroy her until she was nothing but a goddamn memory.

Like Everleigh, I owned that same patience. Where Ashton and Jameson were eager, willing to show all of their cards up front, I was more subtle. I did love Everleigh. A little more than a friend, but a little less than a lover. She’d been family. As much as Jameson and Ash were, but a little more since she had a pussy and tits with a potent captivation. They could fuck with her heart: degrade her, bully her, have people throw things on her, even hate fuck her if that’s what they wanted. But I’d bide my time. I’d take everything from her until she had nothing left. Her will to live. The most powerful thing that could be taken from a person would be in my hands, and then…I’d crush it.

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