Fiendish Play (14 page)

“Good. Cause like I said back at the race, I like you. You seem like a good guy...and I wish I could thank you more for what you did for me...which is why I’m warning you. These guys, these people, they’re just a bunch of brutes...fiends really...Plays like the one you just pulled tonight will just lead to you being fucked-up like me. And if you’re thinking that I’m saying this just to try and scare you, then you’re right. I am trying to scare you. This legacy crap...It’s a living nightmare. You’re lucky you have a choice. But they’re not going to like it when you turn it down...it’s not going to be that easy...”

“I’ll be fine. But thanks for the warning Seth.” I turned up the corners of my mouth in appreciation. He really did seem like the good guy Anais described him to be. But looking at the bruising all over his body, I knew it would be a few days before he would be able to walk properly again. It made me sick to my stomach that those guys were beating him up for not being able to win a car race. I mean, what kind of people do such a thing?

The Lappell.

“You know, you’re going to get a lot of attention now for winning that race. And not just from the Lappell. Everyone from here within a five-state radius is going to be talking about you. It’s going to be hard for you to avoid. So...just be prepared...for the attention I mean...”

“Attention I can handle,” I told Seth. “It was worth it to stop what they were doing to you. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I don’t know if I ever will be. But thanks again for stepping in the way you did.” Seth groaned again as he sat upright. “Uh James...can I ask you where you learned to drive like that? I mean it was really good, and I’m sure I speak for everyone watching when I say it was completely unexpected too. ”

I smiled. Because that’s what I do when I thought about the person who helped teach me all the wonderful things I had learned growing up. “My step-dad taught me.”

Seth raised his eyes curiously. “Step?”

I turned away avoiding his look. “Oh, well...uh...my real Dad died before I was born...It was a car accident. I never knew him. And my Mom married when I was really young.”

Anais’ eyes flicked to me now. I could tell she wanted to ask questions. Wanted to say something comforting.

“Sorry,” Seth’s voice said low behind me, almost like he was apologizing for the both of them. I could see the same compassionate word in Anais’ eyes too.

I cleared my throat, feeling uncomfortable. Even though the loss of my Dad wasn’t a pain I didn’t fully experience as a child, as you grow up, you still feel the hole of that person inside you. Like a part of you you’ll never know, or never understand. I sometimes think that if I had lost my real Dad now it would be better than never really knowing what he was like and who he was. I would prefer to have any memory of him than no memory at all. Although I wasn’t about to get sentimental here in the car with a guy I had just met. I hadn’t even gotten into the family history part with Anais yet, and we were dating.

I shrugged it off, like it meant nothing, but I think they both knew that I didn’t want to talk about it any further.

“Is that why your last name is Riley and not White?” Anais asked out of nowhere. The question caught me by surprise. I wondered how she made that connection since we hadn’t gone into parental specifics yet. She must have been reading my mind because she was quick to follow up with answers to the questions in my head.

“My uncle...” she stated, answering my thoughts. “He mentioned your parents were Colton and Nina White from Bordeaux in France. He had spoken to me about your sculptures and where you were from when he was considering your application.”

It made sense that Anais had heard that from the professor, especially given their love of art and the bond they shared. “Yeah...Riley’s my real Dad’s last name. My step-dad has never asked me to take his. I don’t think my parents really care about the whole name thing. It never seemed to matter. They just care that as a family; we protect and support one another.”

Anais used her free hand to reach across and hold mine. “Is your step-dad the one who taught you to fight too?” Anais said quietly. Her eyes back on the road.

“Fight?” Seth questioned from behind.

“He’s the one that got me into boxing classes if that’s what you mean,” I said to Anais.

Seth didn’t pry any further into the whole fighting comment thing, but he made a ‘hmmm’ sound like he was impressed with what he had heard.

“Wow, your step-dad sounds like a cool guy James.” Seth lay back down again in the back seat. “Must be nice to have great parents like that. No secrets...” He yawned. “No lies.”

{11}

Marcus must have heard my footsteps as I approached our front door the following afternoon after I spent the day on campus, because he opened it before I had a chance to put my key in the lock. Needless to say I was surprised to be greeted by the
Hugh Heffner
look-a-like that stood before me. Marcus was wearing a long satin robe that tied up at the front, holding a glass of Scotch and a cigar was in his mouth. The only thing missing was Hefner’s trademark captain’s hat.

“Are we going to the playboy mansion?” I asked, trying to hold back from laughing at Marcus. He blew out smoke, attempting to blow smoke rings, but instead, coughed profusely and waved me inside.

“You know...I really want to ask about the get-up Marcus...but I’m kinda scared to.”

Marcus grinned ear to ear. “James my new best friend...” He pat me on the back like a proud papa. “Welcome home.”

I balked at his absurd behavior. “Seriously, what’s with the get-up Marcus? You going to another themed frat party?”

“Fraternity,” he scoffed at the word. “Hell no! Fraternities are for the birds. Looks like secret societies are the way to go. Look at all this swag they’ve sent you. I think every one of them in the state are trying to get you to join.” I looked at the large boxed-up cases spread all around the room.

“Wait, are you saying all this,” I pointed to the cases, “is for
moi
?”

Marcus raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “
Moi
? No man — they’re for you!”

I laughed at Marcus again as he walked over to the kitchen where he had an opened bottle of Scotch. He poured me a glass and brought it back me. I took the glass and stared at liquid swirling around in the glass, feeling slightly overwhelmed. I guess Seth was being serious about the amount of attention that I was going to get. I thought a couple of groups might send me an email...maybe even approach me on campus, but not this. Not with gifts of any sort.

“You’re one popular guy.” Marcus half circled the room watching me before he sat on the couch and got comfortable. “Why don’t you tell me what you did to attract all this? We’ve had deliveries all morning.”

I took a sip of the Scotch, letting it sit my mouth for a second before the heat trailed down my throat. “I won a car race,” I said, sounding scratchy with the burn of the Scotch coming off my tongue.

“A car race? Really? Well...you’re getting up to some interesting night time activities.” Marcus’s curiosity was definitely peaked. Thankfully the scotch kept his attention span short.

“Yep. It would seem,” I paused, finding my real voice, “that’s all it takes to get their attention.”

“Man, I wish I could have seen that!” Marcus exclaimed, his arm flying round, the Scotch skimming the edge of his glass, almost spilling out.

“It was a last minute thing...” I trailed off, not going into details. I didn’t think revealing any information about everything that had happened with Anais, which lead to me ending up in that car race, would be a wise move to make. Something told me to keep my mouth shut. Especially about all things Lappell.

Marcus studied me for another minute, before shrugging his shoulders and walking over to a big wooden box near the television. “So, this right here is from
Houser
which I think is a secret society over in Beresford. They’ve sent you a box of real nice authentic Cuban cigars, along with a letter of ‘invitation’.” Marcus reached into his jacket and held up the first envelope. I noticed there were a few other envelopes resting on the breakfast bar.

“And this,” Marcus held up his short glass, the malty color liquid swirling around it again as he twirled it above his head. “This is from a case of Scotch that was sent to you by some group called
Armentine
. The box is over there next the couch...and here is their letter.” Marcus picked up a second envelope and waved it in the air before tossing it to the ground.

I picked up the open liquor bottle and read the label. “Marcus, this is a hundred-year-old bottle of Scotch.”

Marcus’ glazed eyes squinted trying to read the rectangular label on the side of bottle too. “It is?” he asked taking another gulp. “Well, fuck me. It’s good stuff.”

Marcus refilled his glass and then grabbed the biggest envelope on the counter. “And this one my friend,” he began. “Ahhh drum roll please...” It was the biggest and most intricate of them all. “This one is an official invitation from the Lappell Secret Society. I’m not sure if you know anything about them, but they’re the local group, and from what I’ve heard...the biggest. I guess if there are levels of how secret these groups are, I mean...you know...they’re the ones who are the most ‘secrety’.”

“The most secrety...” I mused, repeating Marcus’ choice of made-up words. I looked around the room expecting them to follow the same pattern as the others with a gift.

“Oh they sent you something too. If you’re wondering...” He started handing the envelope over to me. I could feel that something was inside it. Marcus took another sip of the very expensive and old Scotch whiskey watching me, like he was waiting for my reaction. I tipped the envelope upside down and a bright silver key fell into my hand.

“It was delivered about an hour ago and I had to have it parked in the visitors’ bay behind the complex. Can’t leave that fine machine just sitting in the street out front.”

Fine machine?

“Are you kidding me?” I said, watching the gleam of the key in my hand.

“Go down and see for yourself.” Marcus said swaying from one foot to the other.

I took off towards the stairs, partly out of curiosity and partly because I needed to see what I would be giving up. Out the back in the visitors’ bay was a brand new orange Dodge Viper SRT. “Is that...” I trailed off. I was in shock from the extravagance of such a gift. Was this a present or a statement of size from the Lappell? Seriously, was this secret society compensating for something in particular? Because this was just way too much for something as simple as a car race victory.

“Yeah baby — it’s the limited edition model. Only thirty-three of these cars were made. Isn’t. She. Beeeeeautiful.” I think Marcus was having an eye orgasm as he walked up behind me.

It was definitely the kind of car that screamed power, prestige, money and superiority. I guess the Lappell were planting their flag in the form of an automobile. And as fine-looking as it was, I knew I had to send it back. I had to send everything back. Accepting anything would appear like I’d pledged an allegiance to one society or another, and I especially didn’t want the Lappell thinking that this was enough to secure my membership. I wasn’t for sale, and this was an obvious test to see if I could be bought.

“Personally, I would say the Lappell are the clear winners in trying to
woo
you.” Marcus held his glass into the air. “But Armentine isn’t doing so badly either I think.”

“I really didn’t expect any of this...” I trailed off. I stared at the car, feeling that adventurous masculinity seep in. “But you know, since it’s here and all and it’s not going anywhere right this second...maybe we should, you know, take it out for a little spin...just a tiny one. Just to see how it handles before I send it back. What do you reckon Marcus? That’s not going to hurt, right?”

Marcus fist pumped the sky. “Fuck no! Let’s take it for a burrrrrrrrn.” Marcus looked side to side. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

We both ran down to the car. I pressed the button on the key, opening the doors. But before we climbed in Marcus stalled at his door.

“James,” Marcus began, still sounding slurry, “I do have one very important question I need to ask you before we go tear it up.”

I stiffened. I knew I couldn’t tell Marcus about the Lappell and how I verbally agreed to try and join. I didn’t want to involve him with my personal life, especially knowing that I had been watched since I helped Anais the first night I was here. Something told me to keep Marcus separate. For my safety and his own. I hoped he wasn’t about to ask those questions. He had made me feel so welcome since I arrived, and we had turned into real friends. The last thing I wanted to do was blatantly lie to his face. And honestly, I don’t think I could lie to the guy even if I wanted to.

“So...” He slurred again, taking a deep breath. I blinked, holding my own as I waited to hear what he had to say.

“Do you think they’ll be sending you girls as well? Cause I’d love to help you sort through those deliveries.”

I choked out a laugh as I leaned forward, gripping onto the frame of my new car, and turned to Marcus, knowing my response would be the truth. There was so much relief in answering such a question, I couldn’t help but offer Marcus a fist pump in response. “Marcus, if they do...they’re all yours.”

{12}

Twenty-one years ago...

DELIA

“Hello.” There was a cold harsh tone in my voice as he was escorted into the room. I sat on the bed, in my usual lingerie get-up, but today I was all in white, with white stockings that came up mid-thigh. I looked away, trying not to notice the way the guards were ogling my outfit. They were always so obvious.

“Hello,” Liam said back, equally frosty and uninviting. He adjusted his tie and pulled it up and out off his shirt.

“How do you want me?” I said sounding sickly sweet. I crawled onto the bed on all fours like the good little animal whore I was.