Page 32 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares
Finished rinsing his face, Ravi stood up from the floor and flopped down in a chair. “I’ll tell you one thing… if that bitch is mine, I’m going to fuck her up.”
Suspicion narrowed Slater’s eyes as both he and Levi stopped what they were doing and turned Ravi’s way.
“What do you mean if she’s yours?” Slater asked.
Oh yeah, we forgot to let them in on that piece of information.
Ravi looked over at me. “You want to tell them, or should I?”
“Tell us what?” Levi demanded.
“It’s nothing.”
“Sure…” Ravi snorted. “If you consider Georgia being put in Craven House as nothing.”
“What?” Slater screeched. “And you didn’t tell us before?”
“Yeah,” Levi agreed. “A little heads up would’ve been nice.”
I shrugged. “It slipped my mind.”
Slater curled his lip at me. “It slipped your fucking mind?”
“Yes, asshole, it slipped my mind.” Poor excuse or not, it was true. Besides… “I’m not the only one who didn’t say anything.”
Slater lifted his chin and twisted his neck to glare at his brother. “What the fuck, Ravi?”
“I don’t have to tell you everything,” was Ravi’s response.
While they looked alike and had each other’s backs, the Pierce brothers were the worst twins ever. Slater once forgot about Ravi’s allergy to latex—which he also had—and bought him the wrong condoms, while last week Ravi forgot his brother’s birthday was coming up, which was also his birthday.
Slater was annoyed, while Ravi was amused by his brother’s annoyance, but Levi was pissed.
He slammed his hand down on the table. “I am not giving up pussy for her. Bitch probably doesn’t know how to suck a dick.”
To be fair, no girl chosen for a bride would know how to suck a dick, so Georgia wasn’t the exception there. Pureand untouched was one of the main requirements aside from bloodline.
“Well, I guess you’ll have to teach her then,” I shot back at Levi.
“Why?” He rolled his shoulders back. “Do you know something? I swear to God, if I have to give up my Friday nights…”
Of course, that was the first place Levi’s mind went. He didn’t get pissed that he would have to claim someone. No, he got pissed at the possibility that he wouldn’t be able to stick his dick in every chick wandering around campus or at least wouldn’t be able to for a while.
I didn’t see monogamy ever being in the cards for Levi. He wasn’t any ordinary player—he wastheplayer. His Friday nights were spent swimming in a sea of pussy. If Georgia ended up given to him, all that would come to an end.
Rule number one of the claiming was that the groom couldn’t fuck anyone else until he claimed his bride, and the groom couldn't claim the bride until she met specific parameters. So, we couldn’t just fuck her and get it over with. That was too easy.
The Society was nothing if not manipulative. Rituals were a way of life, just like seven was a sacred number. Seven families, seven marks, seven rituals, and seven trials we had to pass growing up.
Ravi and I used to joke about some guy being the seventh son, born on the seventh day, of the seventh month, until we found out that there was an actual prophecy about it.
Living long enough to have seven kids was tricky, especially for the wives. We had a lot of enemies, and the way we were raised meant most of us wouldn’t have a problem killing our parents. I’d happily cut my dad’s throat ear to ear with a big fucking smile on my face.
So, offing one’s wife after we got bored or she had produced an heir wasn’t unheard of. Some of us had already planned how to do it. I was going to choke mine to death while I fucked her, so I could breathe in her last breath while I blew my load all over her pussy.
“It’s not me,” Slater insisted. “I haven’t completed my trials.”
Seven trials to test our loyalty, or so they told us. Each one was more twisted than the next, but all of them were based on the seven sins. We never knew when they were coming. Sometimes it was a test, like when my father pitted my brother and I against each other. That one was his version of envy, or sibling rivalry.
