6. Zane

6

ZANE

W e've got Lyric right where we want her now, completely under our control. It's our revenge for what she did to us, for ruining our lives and getting us sent away. She's our little bitch and we're not letting up for even a second.

Every morning, Archer makes her bring him coffee from the campus cafe. Every afternoon, she's ordered to bring Levi his lunch. In between, I have her recording my lectures and transcribing the notes when she's not doing my laundry or cleaning our rooms.

It's been a week of relentless tasks, and yet, she hasn't hit her breaking point.

I keep waiting for the moment when she finally snaps, but so far, she's managed to keep it together. We've made sure everyone knows she's a social pariah, turning her into a pathetic nerd with no friends. But even that doesn't seem to faze her.

Watching her struggle, knowing she's at our beck and call, should feel like a victory. But something about her resilience makes me feel like the fight isn't over yet. She's tougher than I thought and it's only making me more determined to see her break.

"Here," Lyric says, handing me a neatly typed, stapled set of pages. She looks far too alert for this time of day and as I take the papers from her outstretched fingers, irritation bubbles under the surface.

"Are these the notes?" I ask, looking them over.

"Yes," she says quickly, not making eye contact. "All typed up, in twelve-point font, Times New Roman, double-spaced as requested."

The bulleted points are made clear with bold headers and the notes look extremely well organized. Unable to find fault, I stuff them in my backpack. "Get me coffee," I growl out. "Black, two creams, no sugar."

"What size?" Lyric asks, pulling up her notes app on her phone. For some reason, this irritates me more, so I reach out and push her phone away, making it fall. "What the fuck, Zane!" Lyric snaps as she bends down to pick it up.

Our eyes lock and she gulps, seeing my darkened expression. "This isn't a game, Lyric," I tell her, grabbing her and hauling her upright, my hands on her arms. "You're not simply a little assistant doing errands. You're our bitch. Start acting like it or I'll make sure that you regret stepping foot on Sterling Heights campus."

She squeezes her eyes shut. "You're hurting me," she says, voice soft. Releasing my hold, I adjust my backpack on my shoulder.

I narrow my eyes. "Get me the damned coffee, then go clean my room. After that, I don't want to see you anymore today. Got it?"

Lyric nods, then all but flees and I run a hand through my hair, as I analyze an odd mixture of emotions churning inside me. She's been acting like this is little more than an annoying game to play, she is not taking it seriously enough. I want to see her suffer the way we did, with everything stripped away from us.

"Bitch," I mutter, stalking off to wait for my coffee on a nearby bench. I text her my location and she returns ten minutes later, handing me the steaming paper cup without a word, then follows me back to Alpha Lambda so I can let her in to clean my room.

Once she's inside, I leave, taking off to go to the library and study the notes she brought. They're good, really good. But then again, Lyric was always kind of a nerd, even in middle school. That's probably why she targeted us, to raise her popularity.

Bitterness edges inside me once more and I shove the notes away, pulling out my phone to text Archer and Levi in our group chat.

Lyric hasn't been taking this whole thing seriously enough , I text.

Archer's reply comes almost instantly.

What do you want, then?

I furrow my brow.

What if we made sure everyone around her knew what a loser she is and we make sure she has no one?

Good idea. The bitch shouldn't be allowed to manipulate anyone else.

Turning the tables feels like a victory. We implement the plan immediately, spreading the word around campus that Lyric Shaw is a loser, a pathetic, attention-seeking bitch who brings others down to make herself look good.

It worked so much better than expected, too. By the end of the day, she's all but a social pariah, whispers following her everywhere she goes. Alpha Lambda men rule the campus and our word is gospel, as far as the social hierarchy goes.

By that evening, Lyric looks like she's on the verge of tears when she comes to bring us dinner at the frat house.

"Can I please have the night off?" she begs, wiping her wet eyes. "I need to get my own homework done."

Archer and I exchange glances. Levi is playing a video game on the big screen television in the living room while we sit on the couch on our phones.

"Nah," Archer says, a smirk on his face. "I have a better idea. There's a party at one of the other frats tonight. You're coming with us."

"Why?" Lyric bursts out, throwing her hands up. "You made sure no one on campus likes me, so why would you even want me there?"

"I want everyone to see that you're nothing but our bitch," Archer declares. "Also, you don't get a night off, not from us."

Lyric's hands clench by her sides but her shoulders slump in defeat. "What time?" she asks, looking downcast.

"Meet back here in two hours," I order. "Wear something better than that," I add, pointing to her jeans-and-flannel outfit.

"I have to go," Lyric mumbles.

We watch her leave, exchanging high-fives. Levi gets up and runs a hand through his hair.

"What's the plan for the night, then?" he asks.

"Gonna play it by ear." I shrug. "Right?"

Archer nods. "I'm sure we'll find a way to entertain ourselves with her assistance," he says, a smirk rising from the corners of his lips.

Two hours later, Lyric shows up again, this time wearing the same jeans but with a halter top and a pair of low-heeled sandals. Something twists inside me at the sight of her, a flush traveling through my body as I take her in.

"Better," Archer says, nodding approvingly. "Now come on, we're walking over together." He pushes her in front of us, forcing her to lead the way.

Lyric shivers in the cool fall air as we make our way down Greek Row to the party. It's dark out already, with a crisp chill. Raucous music blares from the frat where the party is being held and people are crowded around, already hanging out on the lawn with beers in hand or sitting on the porch while taking shots.

As soon as we enter the house, I grab a couple of cups of beer and press one into Lyric's hands. She looks down at it with a frown.

"I don't drink," she says in a low voice.

"You are tonight," I tell her, pushing it toward her face and tipping the cup so it spills into her mouth, a little trickle running down the side and trailing its way down her bare neck. I watch the droplet's path, swallowing hard to keep my composure.

"Drink up," I say, voice coming out huskier than I intended.

Lyric obeys, eyes never leaving mine as she drains the cup faster than I expected. I want to warn her to slow down, but part of me wants to see what happens when the alcohol hits her.

Once she's done with the first cup, she seems to mellow out, the tension leaving her shoulders. She follows us around, waiting for orders from us as she drinks a second and then a third, beer.

I'm talking to one of my fraternity brothers when she comes up behind me, her arms snaking around my waist as she leans her head against me. It makes me stiffen up and I pull her arms away as she slips around my front.

"Hey, Zane," she says, her words a little slurred. "I miss being this close to you. You always gave such great hugs." She sways, rubbing her cheek on my chest.

All the blood in my body rushes south, an erection starting to strain at my jeans. Her fingers come up and toy with the leather cord around my neck. "I want to touch you. I want you to touch me," she says, reaching up to bring her lips to mine.

If I weren't a few beers in myself, I might have pushed her away, but instead, I find myself drawing closer, letting her lips brush over mine. A spark of electricity zings through me as our lips touch, and I kiss her deeply, hungry for more.

Levi walks up and she breaks away. "Levi!" she calls, her voice a little too loud in the space. "I missed you too," she says, pulling him close and tracing a hand over his angular jaw. "My sexy emo boy."

"Lyric, don't," Levi says, taking her hands off him.

"No, don't push me away," Lyric whines. "Let me take care of you." She fumbles for his belt buckle, but he takes her wrists in his hand and lifts them over her head, so she responds by pressing her body up against his.

"I want this," she says, biting her lip. "Please? Just one night? You can use me to feel better. I won't even mind."

Archer has silently been watching this entire thing from the corner, clutching a bottle of beer in his hands. He pushes off the wall and walks over.

"You're willing to let us take you, right here and now?" he offers in a whisper. He's not quite as far gone as the rest of us yet.

"Yes," Lyric says, nodding her head. "I want this. I want you. I miss the way you guys made me feel. Use me for tonight. Please use me."

With a silent understanding, we start pulling Lyric up the stairs, heading for a vacant bedroom.

This may be exactly the thing we need to get over her once and for all.