Page 11 of Deadly Sacrifice

I straighten my spine and take a deep breath, pushing all those dark thoughts away, so they can build and build in the background until I snap. And soon. I’m about due for causing a scene.

Raising my hand, I’m just about to knock, but all my muscles constrict when I hear a girl moaning from within the room. Her cries of pleasure and the distinctively male groans that follow are quiet, but it may as well be blaring through a megaphone directly into my ear.

I don’t give a damn what my end goal is with Prudence. She became mine in every sense of the word the second Heather hatched this plan to pair her with us. The only dick she’s allowed to take is mine. And Asher’s and Griffin’s, but I really doubt they’ll mix business with pleasure like I plan to.

Rage funnels through my veins like a poison, and all the color drains from the world around me. I don’t see red, like most people claim when they’re angry. I see an empty void, a bleak existence that threatens to send me back to the mental ward. Everything is black and white, ashen and dull, and goddamn, do I want to tear it all to shreds until I can find the colors again.

One blink, and my hand is fisted around the doorknob. Another, and I’m battering my shoulder into the solid wood of the door, trying to break it down. One more, and I might really lose my shit.

“Creed?” a soft voice asks, so close and familiar that it forces my brain back into the moment. It takes a monumental effort to drag my eyes away from the door, but when I do, the void shrinks.

Wavy red hair and bursts of hazel eyes.

Those are the first colors that come back to me. I shake my head, pulling my hand away from the doorknob and reaching for Prudence instead. Not to be a damn creep. But just… so maybe she can ground me.

Prudence frowns, eyeing my hand warily. But she doesn’t move. Not when I cup her cheek. Not when I smooth my palm down the column of her neck. Not when I trail my fingers down her arm and lace our hands together. She doesn’t move or breathe or say anything. She just frowns at me, like I’m a sad, lost little thing that hurts her heart, but she doesn’t know what to do about it.

“Where were you?” I whisper, then clear my throat to get rid of the rough, scratchy tone. In the background, I can still hear those moans and grunts coming from her room, and I have half a mind to barge down the door still, just to teach them a lesson for getting me all wound up and confused.

Prudence shrugs one shoulder, peering behind me to her room. “I wasn’t wanted here. Took a walk to clear my head,” she explains, rolling her eyes with an indignant huff. “But I guess they’re still going at it, so I’d better find somewhere else to be for a while.”

“Let’s go,” I croak, turning and heading back to the front of the house, dragging her behind me.

“Go where?” she asks as she tries to keep up with me.

“Across the street. You’re wanted at my place.”

***

“So, you already know Asher,” I say, pointing at my cousin sitting at the kitchen island. I texted Asher and Griffin earlier to be down here, ready to greet her. Neither were happy about it. It’s Saturday evening. There are parties and pussy to be had.

“Um, yeah. We’ve bumped into each other on campus a few times,” Prudence murmurs, tugging on her long black sleeve while looking anywhere but at him and trying to hide the blush creeping up her neck.

Asher laughs softly, tossing back a beer and watching Prudence with an intense, even a little interested, expression.

“And Griffin is running late, but you’ll meet him eventually,” I add, trying not to grit my teeth as I speak. That dick is locked upstairs in his room, probably jerking his cock and silently brooding. That’s all I ever imagine he does when he’s alone, because I know for a fucking fact that he’s not sleeping around like a normal frat guy. I can’t recall a single time I heard a woman climaxing through the wall we share, or caught someone sneaking out of his room in the morning. Maybe he hooks up somewhere else, but I really don’t peg him for an exhibitionist, so unless he’s got somewhere private to get his rocks off, then… yup, he’s a pro at hand jobs by now.

Prudence gives me a tight smile, and then slowly turns, looking around the large, dark kitchen. “It’s nice in here,” she says, trailing delicate fingers over the black granite counters. “Cozy.”

I shove my hands in my pockets, feeling all kinds of fucking awkward. Usually, when I bring a girl to the frat house, it’s because I’m going to fuck her, and half the time I’m drunk or high, or both. But Prudence doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl who’ll be willing to go up to my room tonight and cream on my cock. Not yet, anyway, but I’ll wear her down. Carefully, so I don’t scare her off before we can annihilate her.

It’s going to be a fucking blast.

My mind is tripping over itself, trying to think of what to say, what to do to keep her here until Griffin quits moping and comes downstairs. It’s fucking ironic; the mute guy is the best at conversation. He’ll know how to ease the nerves that are holding her shoulders so stiff. He’ll get a smile out of her, earn some trust, as easy as breathing. He’s just an easy-going guy once you get to know him, and people can never stay tense around him for long.

I think Griffin is the exact opposite of me, but that’s why we work so well as friends. Balance.

While she continues to look around, I consider storming upstairs and getting him, but before I can decide if I can take my friend in a fight and drag his giant ass down here, Asher speaks up. “I’m glad you like the place,” he says, calm and friendly even as his green eyes are just this side of carefully blank. “Being our girl for the semester means you’ll probably be here a lot.”

“Why?” she asks, turning back toward us and finally meeting his gaze.

Asher’s lips curl up into something salacious as he studies her, and to my surprise, she doesn’t shy away from the intensity in his eyes. He shrugs, holding her gaze while he drinks his beer.

“Parties and shit,” I answer casually, stealing her attention. It’s not that I don’t fully expect her to be sleeping with me, and soon, but Asher implying as much before she’s even met the third member of our trio is risky. “Clean up the next day, especially. Every guy in this house will be grossly hung over, so I’m afraid that role will fall heavy on your lap.”

“Exciting,” she breathes, flashing me a sarcastic expression. “Just what I wanted to spend my first semester of college doing; cleaning up after drunk frat boys.”

Asher laughs, deep and throaty, surprising me as much as himself. I blink at him, but he barely spares me a glance. “Maybe if you ask really nicely, I’ll find it in myself to help out from time to time. Griffin, too. He’s a sucker for being the hero.”

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