My Old Crush, My New Deskmate

3

INITIATION

RYAT

COMMITMENT

JUNIOR YEAR AT BARRINGTON UNIVERSITY

I ENTER THE house as quietly as a church mouse. The order was simple. I was given a location in Chicago, a name—Nathaniel Myers—and a picture.

Take him out.

I make my way down the hallway and up the winding staircase to the second floor. Taking a right, I stop at a closed door. Reaching up, I place my finger to my lips to tell Matt to be quiet. He’s like a f*****g bull in a china shop. We were given a partner for this assignment to see how we work with others, but I prefer to be on my own. Not only do I have to watch my back but now I’ve also got to watch his as well.

Matt nods once, running his hand down over his face before gripping the gun, holding it down to his side. Matt and I have been friends for three years now. Ever since we moved into the house of Lords and started Barrington University in Pennsylvania. But that doesn’t mean I want to work beside him. I just do better on my own.

Opening the door, I enter the room, seeing a man and woman lying on a bed with the sheets pushed down to their waist. She’s topless, her big paid-for t**s on full display. A tattoo of a rose underneath her right one. The guy lies on his stomach, hands shoved under his pillow. I’m sure there’s a gun under there at all times. He probably sleeps with his finger on the trigger.

Walking over to the side of the bed, I place the barrel of my suppressor to his head and pull the trigger, getting it over with. I could draw it out, but why take that chance? Too many things can go wrong. And it’s not like you get points for creativity.

The woman stirs, and Matt goes over to her side of the bed, ripping the covers off her even more. She’s completely naked.

“Matt,” I hiss. “Let’s go.”

He pulls the knife from his back pocket, flipping it open. “She …”

“Is not on the list,” I whisper-shout. We don’t deviate from our orders.

He reaches out and grabs one of her breasts, making her shift and let out a moan.

I round the foot of the bed, coming up behind him, and point the end of my suppressor at his head. “Get the f**k out of here. Right now,” I demand.

He chuckles, lifting his hands in surrender. “Just having a little fun, Ryat.” Turning around, he faces me, but I keep my gun pointed between his blue eyes. “Aren’t you tired of doing what the Lords say? Don’t you want some p***y?”

My teeth grind. “There are rules for a reason.” I’m not saying they make sense, but I’ve come too far to break them now.

“f**k the rules,” he snaps, loudly making her shift onto her side. Reaching down, he undoes the buttons on his jeans, followed by his zipper. “I’m going to f**k her. You can do whatever you want with your cock.” He rips his belt from his jeans and turns to face her.

A shrill scream makes both of us jump. She crawls across her dead husband and runs out of the room.

“Son of a b***h,” Matt yells, chasing after her.

I roll my eyes. This is why I prefer to work alone. I follow them into the hallway to find Matt standing at the banister. I come up beside him, placing my gun down at my side with one hand while the other grips the railing. Looking down over it, I see the woman facedown on the first floor with blood slowly pooling around her onto the white marble floor.

I turn to look at him, and demand, “Did she fall over, or did you throw her?”

“She f*****g fell,” he snaps, immediately defensive.

I shake my head, teeth grinding. “Come on. Let’s get the f**k out of here and call it in to be cleaned up.”

CHAPTER FOUR

INITIATION

RYAT

ONE OF THEM

SENIOR YEAR AT BARRINGTON UNIVERSITY

THE BACKS OF my knees are hit, knocking me down onto them. I grind my teeth to keep from making a sound when they impact the concrete. Blood rushes in my ears, and my heart beats wildly in my chest.

This is what I live for!

The adrenaline rush is unlike anything I’ve ever known—an addiction. Something that can’t be bought off the streets or drank from a bottle.

The hood is ripped off my head, and I blink, looking around to adjust my eyesight. I’m in the center of a room. Seats filled with men dressed in thousand-dollar suits circle the large space. You wouldn’t know they’re all killers if you saw them on the street. The room is filled with power. Some are senators, while others are CEOs of multibillion dollar companies. A Lord is made to feed off another. It’s like anything else—someone has to be at the top, and another has to hold up the bottom. But still, powerful nonetheless. After graduation, we’re each strategically placed where we fit best in the world.

My eyes fall to what looks to be a birdbath sitting in the middle with a small fire going, and my breathing picks up.

“Restrain him,” someone calls out.

I’m shoved face-first to the floor. My arms are yanked behind my back and handcuffed. I growl as I’m jerked back to a kneeling position. A belt is wrapped around my neck and is pulled from behind while a boot presses into my back right between my shoulder blades.

I bare my teeth, trying to breathe with what little air I have.

“Ryat Alexander Archer, you have completed all trials of initiation. Do you wish to proceed?”

“Yes, sir,” I manage to growl out.

He nods, placing his hands behind his back. “Remove his shirt.”

Another man comes up to me and cuts the collar of my shirt, then rips it down the center. He leaves it hanging off my shoulders and walks away.

Instinct has me fighting the restraints, and the man behind me pulls tighter on the belt, shoving his boot farther into my back, cutting off my air in the process. I fist my cuffed hands and watch the man place a hot iron into the fire.

“A Lord must be willing to go above and beyond for his title. He must show strength and have what it takes.” He pulls the hot iron from the flames and turns to face me, the end burning red. “If you shall fail your position as a Lord, we will take what was earned.” He looks over to his right and adds, “Silence him.”

A hand fists my hair, yanking my head back to stare up at the black ceiling. If I was able to breathe, I’d growl at the motherfucker who is touching me. A small cloth is shoved into my mouth, and I bite down on it, knowing what’s coming.

“Ryat Alexander Archer, welcome to the Lords. For you shall reap the benefits of your sacrifice.” Then the hot iron is pressed to my chest, searing the crest to my body.