Page 175 of Filthy Elites

I grab a pillow off the bed and a blanket, then stretch out on the couch. My legs are too long, forcing me to the side, positioning me and Reagan nearly face to face. I drift off, staring at her, taking in her features; those eyelashes, those lips, that fucking delicious mouth, pushing aside the worries about tomorrow’s challenge.

I’ll figure something out. I always do.

FOURTEEN

Reagan

The soft padding of the bed is the first thing I notice when I wake. It’s comfortable, warm, and my muscles don’t ache. It’swrong.I jolt up, blinking at the room, paranoia creeping up my spine, and try to put the pieces together. Last night had been a close call with Rat trying to force me into the shower with the other guys. Miller stepped in and sent me to his room to clean-up and wait for him. I did what he said. I knew better than to test him, but he never came. I got in the bed just to rest for a minute—to wait for him and whatever punishment he planned for me. After that is blank.

I look down and see that I’m in the same clothing as the night before. Miller’s sweatshirt and the boxer briefs I stole from his drawer. Reaching under the shirt, I touch my chest and it’s also clean. Whatever happened, Miller didn’t mess with me. I wish that made me less apprehensive, but I don’t like owing him any debts. I know he’ll extract payment when he’s ready, and it will be worse than before.

I glance over at the couch and see a bunched up pillow and rumpled blanket. Is that where he slept? Doesn’t seem right.What time is it?I search for clock on the nightstand and stop. A plate sits on the table with a glazed donut and a note propped against it. In scrawled handwriting I read,Eat up, kitten. Tonight’s going to be a doozy.

Ignoring the donut, I get out of bed. I take a second to straighten it up, giving the impression I wasn’t there, although clearly, that’s more for my benefit than anyone else. I pull on the jeans from the day before but keep on Miller’s sweatshirt. My other one has bits of hair in the collar from the barbershop, and… I pull the shirt up to my nose. It smells good. Clean.

A flash of Miller’s face between my legs brings a flush of heat across my body.

Okay, maybe wearing the shirt isn’t a good idea.

I strip it off, putting back on my dirty shirt. Footsteps sound up and down the hall. An alarm in the next room keeps going off every ten minutes. Snooze button, I guess. I’m not sure how to get out of here—when it’s okay to leave. I have two hours before my next class and a pile of homework to do. I haven’t even been thinking about all the schoolwork I’m falling behind on. My eyes fall on the desk in front of the window. Miller’s laptop and a few binders are stacked on the edge. I make a little space and pull out my assignments. There’s a speech in my marketing class, a paper in language arts, and three videos to watch for Spanish.

We turned our devices in at the beginning of the week, so I snag Miller’s laptop. At least I can get the videos watched. A few quick keystrokes later I’m in my class website, learning how to conjugate verbs. Or trying.

My stomach rumbles and I glance at the donut. Fuck it. I deserve it after that the last few days. I’ve just taken a bite of the sweet, sticky donut when I get an alert from my school messaging system.

Grayson:I don’t know if you’ll get this but it’s worth a shot.

Reagan:I’m here.

The message sits for a moment, the icon blinking waiting for a response. Tiny bubbles appear.

Grayson:I didn’t hear from you yesterday. Where are you?

I look down at the bed and then over to the couch to the pillow and balled up blanket. How do I answer this?

I’m in Miller’s bedroom.

In was in his bed.

Wearing his clothes.

Now, I’m eating the donut he left me.

Reagan:I’m fine. Yesterday was just busy. You know, getting all my hair shaved off.

That’s right. I’m still pissed he didn’t save me from that.

Grayson:I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t big enough to get the council to notice. Minor infraction at best. Are you okay?

Reagan:Define okay.

There’s a pause, then the little gray circles flicker at the bottom of the screen.

Grayson:I really am sorry. You’re strong R. It’s worth it. We’ll bring them down.

I look over at the note Miller left, the warning at the bottom. I’m not so sure Grayson is right. I’m not even sure if I’ll survive another day in this place. What would have happened if they’d forced me into that shower and seen that I’m not who I say I am? Every minute, it feels harder to breathe in here. Harder to survive without them knowing the truth. Every day that passes will make it more of a betrayal. Not just to Royer. To Knox, Rat, and all the other goats. I’m scared of what will happen when they find out.

I type out a response.

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