Deceit (Gallows Hill #1)

15. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Asher

“ T hursday– the usual time. Ensure Liam is with you,” my father says, his eyes flicking carefully from side-to-side.

Always listening, always watching.

I dip my head in respect, knowing better than to speak unless asked a direct question. In the next moment, a figure moving through the crowd catches my eye. Skyla is walking towards us with a myriad of emotions on her face. I look back to see both our fathers watching her carefully, before sharing a look as they glance back to me.

“You’re dismissed,” my father says.

Nodding my head, I quickly step away from them and turn to start walking towards Skyla. I’m not sure why he’s willing to cut us loose in the middle of our own engagement party, but I don’t really care. I feel a hand grab my arm and I look down to see Bridgette holding it, batting her eyes up at me like that shit is actually going to work on me. I sneer at her, shaking her off my arm as I close the distance between me and my fiancée.

I stop her in her tracks, grabbing her elbow and weaving her through people as we make our way to the front door. I’m practically speed-walking and I can tell she’s having a hard time keeping up.

“Asher. What the hell?” she whispers in a hushed tone.

“We’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” she questions.

I nod as we step around Liam’s parents. I give them a winning smile and they smile back approvingly before casting disappointing looks at their son. He doesn’t shrink under their gaze. Instead he tunes them out, focusing his eyes on the princess in my grip. A flirtatious smile spreads across his face before he gives her a sly wink. I grit my jaw in irritation, he’s such a fucking flirt.

We move further through the party, almost making it all the way to the door when someone steps in front of us.

“Giselle?” he practically gasps, his mouth open and eyes wide as he stares directly at Skyla.

I raise a confused eyebrow in his direction. Looks like someone’s getting off well with the open bar.

“Um, no. I’m Skyla,” she smiles politely, a guarded look in her deep green eyes.

The man who I now can place as Clark Lewis nods, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them back up and smiling at her.

“My apologies. Your mother, you look so incredibly like her. It’s amazing, actually.”

Skyla’s face softens, and I see her eyes begin to slightly water as she takes a small step towards him, lowering her voice as she asks.

“Really?”

He nods. “Undoubtedly. You’re practically her twin.”

“So, you knew her well? What was she like? Do you have any memories of her? I was so young when she pass—”

“Sorry Mr. Lewis, my fiancée and I are needing to get home. I hope to see you again soon,” I cut in, thoroughly bored with this little stroll down memory lane.

Skyla delivers me a hurt look before she masks it, giving him a polite smile. He smiles back at her in a sad way, before he steps to the side, allowing us to pass.

“Where are we going?” Skyla asks, while the Valet goes to fetch my car.

“Back to campus.”

“Why?”

“We were dismissed,” I say stiffly.

Her brows furrow. “Why?”

I roll my eyes, before facing her just as the car pulls up.

“Who knows, but I’m not going to snub a get out of jail free card, and neither should you. Know one thing about this place, Princess. If they give you an out at any point, you take it with both hands and run like hell.”

Before she can respond I’m practically dragging her to the car, opening the door and pushing her in before slamming the door shut. Look at me, being all gentlemanly and shit.

When I make my way around to the driver’s seat I put the car in gear and take off almost immediately. We drive in silence for a few moments, and I relish in the peace. Until she decides it’s a good idea to open her mouth again.

“That man back there. You knew him?” she asks.

I nod as I hit my blinker and take a turn.

“I know everyone.”

“How?” she counters.

I frown at that. “What do you mean how?”

“How do you know everyone? How does everyone know you? I looked it up, there are close to forty-four-thousand people in Salem, Massachusetts. How on earth do you know everyone? How do they know you? Know me?”

I contemplate on how much to tell her. According to the Elders, I shouldn’t tell her anything. Women were never meant to be involved, and if they ever became so, they didn’t live long after. That thought isn’t nearly as terrifying as it should be, but rather enticing. No future bride, means no future wedding.

Fuck it.

“I don’t know everyone, just those that matter. Those that are connected to The Brethren.”

“The Brethren?” she questions slowly. “What the hell is that?”

“A group of families, with common history and goals for the future.”

She’s silent for a moment, before she practically guffaws at me.

“A cult?”

Amusement plays on my lips. If only the Elders could hear her say such an egregious thing. She’d have her tongue cut out before she could even take her next breath. Now there is an idea, if I can’t get out of a wife, maybe one that can’t talk wouldn’t be so bad. Though, I’m sure I’d miss that tongue for other purposes eventually.

I don’t respond, curious if I let that little idea fester and bloom what will come of it. Hopefully, something that benefits me.

“Every family at Gallows Hill University is connected to The Brethren. Why do you think the college is invitation only?” I ask, taking my eyes from the road to give her a ‘duh’ look.

Understanding comes to her, and she nods.

“And my father? He’s a part of this…society?” she hedges.

There we go, that’s a little more accurate.

I nod my head as I turn to pull into the parking lot outside of her dorm.

“Does everyone on campus know, except me?”

I park the car and nod.

“All of us grew up together. The same elementary, middle and high schools. Same sports teams or other activities.”

“Why was I excluded? Why was I sent away then?”

I roll my lips together, knowing this is a secret I can’t share. So instead, I just continue.

“The Brethren believe in keeping our future lineage clean from outsiders, hence why most will end up in arranged marriages. Usually arrangements aren’t made until after graduation, but ours was expedited.”

“Why?” she asks, leaning towards me like she’s desperate for any morsel I’ll give her.

I wish I could give her this one, but I’ve been wondering the same myself.

When she realizes I’m not going to answer, she lets out a soft irritated breath before leaning back into her seat. She stares out the window, solemnly speaking as she does.

“So, what does this all mean for me? My future? Are you saying I’ll never truly be free from my father? Even after we marry?”

I shake my head. “Freedom is an illusion, Princess. This place,” I say, gesturing around at the grand gothic buildings surrounding us. “It’s all smoke and mirrors. Beautiful on the outside, captivating, promising life’s biggest riches and rewards. Everything comes at a price, though.”

“What price will I have to pay?” she asks.

My eyes come to her, flicking back and forth between her pretty green ones.

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

She nods at that, looking down at her hands in her lap before she speaks again.

“Thank you, for telling me. You didn’t have to, I don’t think anyone else would have.”

I’m shocked she’s thanking me, this isn’t what we do. We hate each other, that’s what I know. That’s what I’m comfortable with. I don’t know what to do with her…her gratitude. So, I try to dismiss it.

“No one else would have, because they don’t want to see you wind up dead,” I say bluntly, making it clear that I have no such qualms.

To my surprise, she doesn’t wince or glare. She doesn’t look hurt in the slightest. Instead, she nods like I’ve said something well thought out and reasoned.

“I appreciate the honesty. I can’t see the knife coming for my back if my eyes are facing forward.”

True.

“You can’t stop a knife just because you are looking at it,” I counter.

She shrugs. “You’re probably right, but at least I won’t be the na?ve girl that never saw it coming.”

I wouldn’t say I’m impressed, but I am a bit taken back. She’s smarter than I anticipated, more aware. Just because she’s been kept in the dark over the last fourteen years, doesn’t mean she isn’t sharp. Sharper than I expected.

“So, can we call a truce or something?” she asks.

I furrow my brows at that.

“Why would we do that?”

“Well, you don’t want to marry me and I definitely don’t want to marry you,” she laughs hollowly with a shake of her head.

Irritation fills me, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’ve been the Brethren’s most eligible bachelor my entire life. I had three dates to prom, because women wouldn’t stop throwing themselves at me. The day my betrothal was announced, dozens of women sobbed . Why the fuck doesn’t she want to marry me?

“So,” she continues, “until we can find a way out of this god awful impending marriage, maybe we could at least be cordial to each other?”

“There is no way out,” I say stoically.

She shrugs. “Then maybe we can be amicable roommates.”

I narrow my eyes at her, waiting for the but, some type of condition or clause. She seems to be done speaking, though.

“Sure,” I say hesitantly, noting the pleased smile that upticks her full lips before she opens the car door.

It swings upward and she smoothly slides out of the seat with her clutch in hand. She doesn’t say goodbye, doesn’t invite me up to her room and she doesn't even try to make a move on me. Not like I would have allowed any of those things to happen. Right? Yeah, no.

She’s still the enemy. I want the fuck out of this god awful match. Though she has a wet dream body and a mouth I’d love to sink into, there are plenty of women willing, ready and already dripping for me.

I close the door, stealing one more glance, as the Princess happily walks herself to her dorm, completely unaware of the predators surrounding her in the dark. A good guy would walk her to her dorm and make sure she got there safely. Too bad there isn’t a good guy around.

I step inside my dorm, tossing my keys onto the counter when I see Liam is sitting on the overstuffed bean bag chair in the corner, scrolling on his phone.

“Hey,” I say as I walk in, kicking off my shoes before grabbing some clothes from my dresser. I fucking hate suits, and I can’t wait to get the fuck out of it.

Liam, the weird little fucker he is, loves getting dressed up. Sometimes, it’ll be a Tuesday and he’ll dress up just because it’s ‘fun’. Sometimes, I swear to god, I don’t know why I’m friends with him.

“Got my dick sucked in the kitchen while the appetizers were being made,” he says casually, as his thumb continues sliding across the screen.

“Congratulations. Guy or girl this time?” I drawl sarcastically, not giving a fuck about how he got off.

He looks up from his phone and grins.

“Both.”

I let out a short chuckle as I move into the bathroom, starting up the shower before sliding inside. Liam is very proudly bisexual, at least when his parents aren’t around. They’re already disappointed in him enough, and The Brethren are very…traditional. They treat anyone who isn’t their singular version of perfect, like absolute crap. It’s fucking bullshit but unfortunately, it’s the society we were born into, trapped into.

He doesn’t seem to have an interest in dating men, though. He says he just likes to get topped every once in a while, which was more information than I needed, but he’s an oversharer. He identifies as Bisexual Heteromantic or something like that.

My shower is quick, and I throw on a pair of black sweats and a band t-shirt before I come out. Liam still hasn’t moved from his seat and when I plop down onto my bed, I turn on a movie.

“What took you so long to get back? I left after you,” he says.

“Had to drive my wife-to-be home,” I drawl out sarcastically.

Liam snickers but shakes his head.

“Man, I don’t know why you’re so pissed about marrying her. She’s easily the hottest fucking woman that’s ever set foot on this campus. I’d stick my hand in a blender just to eat that ass once,” he says, with a groan and bite of his lip.

I can’t help but laugh.

“Shut the fuck up. You have to beat men and women off with a stick on campus alone. Forget going out in public with you. You’re not hard-up for some ass.”

“Nah, but I’ve never seen a better ass than hers.”

I raise an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“You been eye fucking my wife?”

“Fiancée,” he corrects, “and fuck yes I have. She’s fucking delectable man. You need to stop the douchebag routine and benefit from this arrangement. A beautiful virgin cunt, promised to you and only you? Sign me the fuck up.”

He has a point. Something in me doesn’t like the idea, though. It’s easier to demonize her in my mind. Safer that way. I’ve always played it safe, played it smart, and I always will. A girl isn’t going to change that, I’ll slit her throat myself before I let her.