Page 163 of Filthy Elites

I dig in the crevice of the couch, the sunken area between the cushions to find my tank. I’m too numb to feel the right emotions. Humiliation and shame are buried somewhere under the surface. I pull the shirt over my head and pretend I’m not dirty—covered in his filth.

“I had all night to think about your betrayal,” he says, rubbing his tired, red eyes. “And the only thing I think will benefit me the most is for you to continue to go through initiation.”

I pause. “What?”

He sits on a chair across from me, still shirtless, joggers slung low on his hips. A twist in my stomach thinks about him over me. I shudder and look for my shirt. It’s crumbled on the floor, near his feet.

“I know you think he’s the golden boy, but Royer is a fucking tool. He’s risky and obsessed and it’s time for him to step down as president.”

“He’s your best friend.” It’s a statement.

Miller shrugs. “So? He’s too worried about his dick and becoming a Zeta Sig legend to see how he’s about to fuck everyone over.” He licks his lips. “He and Andrea have too much control. I don’t like it.”

“So what, you want to stop the initiation? The gauntlet?”

“Fuck no,” he laughs. “I love all of it, as much as he does, maybe more. But believe it or not, kitten, I’m not all about the glory. I’m about the process.” He locks eyes with me. It’s impossible to look away. “And you’re going to help me.”

“Me? How? I’m here to stop all of this.”

“We’re going to make sure your boyfriend and his whore take the fall. Then I’ll claim the position of president and restructure things.”

“Won’t you get in trouble too?”

“Not if we play this right.” He picks up my shirt and walks over, holding it out. “I know everyone thinks I’m a slacker, but that’s just because that’s what I let them see. There’s more to Miller Hansen than people realize.”

I stare at the shirt, the feeling in my skin, my brain, finally coming back. The nausea is still there. I’m not sure if it’s from the alcohol or from the assault. Probably both. “Why do you think I’m going to help you? I can walk out of here and go straight to my contact. I can leave this school. I’m already blacklisted. There’s no reason for me to do anything for you. Especially, not after…” I look down at the couch and swallow the lump in my throat, “after what you just did.”

Miller’s hand shoots out, quick and forceful. He grabs my arm and lifts me to my feet. His lips curl into that scary, dangerous, smile. “I know you, kitten. I know what you really want. You help me, you do every single thing I ask of you over the next seven days, and I’ll make sure your social standing is reinstated. Sorority of your choice. I’ll get that video obliterated from internet history, and I’ll help you get revenge on the person you hate the most.”

“Andrea?” My heart leaps at the idea. It’s foolish, but I’m desperate.

He nods. “We’ll destroy her, and if you still want Royer after I’ve knocked him off his pedestal, then you can have him.” His hand cups my face and swipes his thumb over my cheek, eliciting a tremor that runs down my spine. “But the real reason you’re going to help me is that the alternative is worse than you can imagine.”

“Worse than what you just did to me?”

“The Zeta Sig’s have a tradition for everything, Reagan, including bitches that betray us.” His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip. “It wouldn’t have been just my cum all over your body. It would have been every single one of the men in this frat. In your hair, your face, your mouth…” His eyes sweep down. There’s no mistaking the hunger there. He must really want to displace Royer, because I get the feeling he would love to see me in that position. “You wouldn’t just be blacklisted. You’d bemarked.” He pushes the swoop of hair out of my eyes. “But for now, you’re just mine. Which means I’ll protect you and make sure you get through the week, as long as you do everything I tell you.”

So, there’s no choice. Every move I make, things get worse. I either get exposed to the whole group, or see this through, under Miller’s thumb. I’d already been busted on the first night. There’s no way I would have made it on my own, even with Grayson’s help. I need someone on the inside just to survive.

“You promise to take down Andrea?”

He makes an X on his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“And you’ll help me get my social status back.”

“Yep.”

His hand thrusts out.

“Fine,” I say, as though I have a choice. I slide my palm against his, prepared to shake, but he pauses.

“Remember, you do everything that I tell you and you’ll survive. I own you this week. No arguments.”

Working with Miller doesn’t exactly seem like the lesser of two evils, but at least he’s the devil I know verses a string of frat boys downstairs that I don’t. Getting my social standing back is a long shot. Taking on Royer without help seems even more unlikely. Destroying Andrea is my goal. Grayson… well, he’ll have to take what he can get.

Our palms meet, and a wave of uncertainty rolls over me. I’m damned no matter what I do, and the glint in Miller’s eye tells me that he knows it.

NINE

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