3. ~Brianna~

3

~Brianna~

"Wowzer, this party is really something!" Chloe exclaimed as we strutted along the walkway toward the mansion that was hosting the joint frat homecoming party.

It certainly was something and it was already well underway.

On the lawn to the far-right a crowd was gathered around a guy doing a keg stand.

A little closer and to our left there were six people lined up and shooting BB guns at beer cans they'd positioned on the fence.

And there were a whole lot more students looking on and drinking away.

Last year, we hadn't gotten invitations, because for some reason freshmen weren't allowed at this particular event. It wasn't stated why, but Chloe and I had reasoned that it was some rite of passage to make it through your first year before being allowed in.

"And we haven't even made it into the house yet," I breathed, taking it all in.

"Or the patio and pool area!"

I frowned. "There's a pool? Open for this massive party that's gonna be full of drunk-off-their-asses college students tonight?" That seemed like a crazy liability.

She shrugged. "Yeah. They go all out for this thing."

"Did you bring a bathing suit?" I asked.

I didn't see how she could have. We'd both agreed not to bring purses with us. That was just a disaster waiting to happen with a crazy party like this. I had a pink three-quarter length light coat over my gold and pink sequin romper with zipped pockets where I'd stowed my phone and the keys to my Charger that I'd driven us here in. But the jacket she was wearing over her black and red feathery mini-dress was a cropped leather thing with no pockets. She had a holder attached to the studded belt at her waist, but that only fit her phone and the key to her on-campus apartment.

"Nope. What's the fun in that? At a party like this, it's skinny dipping all the way."

I frowned at her as we entered the mansion itself. She was more out there than usual at these sorts of things. Usually, she was more closed off and guarded. But right now she was almost giddy and literally talking about getting naked in front of a bunch of strangers.

Something was off with her.

As we progressed further into the mansion, bodies slamming against one another and grinding on pretty much any available surface, while others gyrated to the dance music with the heavy bass, I considered turning back around immediately and getting us out of here.

That lasted about ten seconds when she suddenly bounced on the balls of her feet, then made a straight run for the bar, disappearing into the crowds in the process.

I sighed.

I had a feeling it was going to be one of those long-ass nights.

"Here," I said, rushing back to Chloe who was sitting forward on one of the pool loungers clapping her hands and bouncing way too enthusiastically as she watched the naked volleyball match taking place in the largest pool.

That's right, it turned out that there were three altogether.

There was a smaller one just behind it near a long bar, which was where I'd been getting rid of Chloe's beer, then grabbing her a water bottle.

Then over on the opposite side of the area, there was one that was more of a hot tub—a massive one with fake mini-waterfalls pouring into it.

"I'm good," she said, trying to wave me off as I went to hand her the bottle of water.

"Take it or we leave right now."

She started at my stern tone.

Yeah, I didn't bring that out much.

All she'd seen from me was pretty much my reinvented version, consisting of the bubbly and happy-go-lucky disposition I worked hard not only to put out there, but to keep feeling myself.

I had to.

When I didn't, when I slipped a little, it… it hurt. The dark memories tried to dig their claws into me.

Chloe snatched the water from me, giving me a pout for good measure.

"Slowly," I warned her, as she started gulping it down.

She took my advice and shifted to taking sips.

It was the first of my advice that she had actually taken tonight.

And that wasn't like her, like us.

I eased myself onto the edge of the lounger by her feet. "What's going on with you tonight?"

"Nothing," she said, still sipping at her water, while looking at the naked show behind me in the pool.

"You were worked up when I picked you up. On edge in a hyper, nervous energy sort of way. Then as soon as we got here, you downed two of those mini bottles of vodka that are all over this house like freaking decorations and basically dry humped the first frat guy you saw. And since then you've been knocking back beer after beer."

"Hey, that guy was hot. And he really turned it on."

"He welcomed you to the party and asked for a dance."

"He was wearing leather pants. You know I'm a sucker for those."

"Chloe," I pushed, tapping her ankle.

She shoved a hand through her hair and stared at me with her glazed, pissed-drunk eyes.

It looked like she was actually on the verge of confiding in me like she always did.

But then she blinked, put the water bottle down and jumped to her feet. "We're here to party, not for a fucking therapy session, Bree."

She staggered in her step, headed for the pool.

I reacted quickly before she reached the edge, just as she was moving to lift her dress up and flash everyone.

"Uh uh," I said, grasping her hand before she could expose herself.

She pouted at me again. "You're no fun tonight. I mean, you've barely even had a drink."

"I'm the designated driver."

"It's more than that. I thought we came here to have fun."

"We did. But it's hard to enjoy anything when you're drunk off your ass and barely even aware of anything around you. Did you even see the food they have here? It's high-end stuff, not just chips and dip. There are games happening in a couple of massive rooms downstairs. A karaoke competition in another."

"Well, my idea of fun is stripping naked and playing with the girls and boys in the pool."

"That's the alcohol talking. You don't even like showing too much cleavage with what you wear. I'm not about to believe you'd really be fine with exposing yourself—not in the light of day when you've sobered up."

"Urgh," she groused. "Let's at least go back to the dancefloor then."

"Fine, but just dancing. No hooking up."

Mischief shone in her eyes, but she did move away from the pool, and then we were heading back inside to the main house, the thumping of the bass guiding the way to the dance area that the frats had set up, even along with some strobe lighting.

She jerked her hand free of mine, then pushed her way toward a group of guys and started getting her dance on with them. I stayed near a group of sorority girls, moving to the slow jam beat while keeping a close eye on her.

I hated dancing around guys.

I didn't like being touched.

Not by men.

Fortunately, the sorority girls must've seen the nervousness all over me, how uncomfortable I was, because one of them took my hand and the other three welcomed me into their group. They were dancing in a fun, hilarious way, just living it up.

Exactly what I'd been going for when Chloe and I had been headed to this party earlier.

I'd wanted to let loose a little and have fun.

But with the way she'd been, it had forced me into the role of babysitter.

One of the girls—one with beautiful long black curly hair—leaned in and told me in a serious tone that cut into the revelry, "You should get her home."

Her friend in a romper a lot like mine added, "Right now. She's what they're looking for."

I frowned. "What?"

Another one with straightened brown hair and a gold mini-dress told me, "Look, we like you. And your friend. That style app you made? Ah-mazing!"

"And you want Chloe to make you an outfit for that gala you've got coming up," the one in a romper said.

"Well, that too."

"What did you mean that she's what they're looking for?" I pressed.

The one with the amazing curly hair told me, "It's a sick game with a couple of the frats. Let's just say they use tonight to reach a certain quota."

"Of hookups," another added.

"We're here trying to figure out who's involved in this sick game and we've got a couple of members from another frat helping us. So far we've only got a few ID'd and tossed out, so there's still a lot more here."

"They want the inebriated ones, like your friend right now."

I screwed up my face. Urgh. That was beyond sick and twisted. "Shit, thanks for the heads up."

"No worries."

I went to get Chloe just as she was grinding her ass against a guy behind her, while she linked her arms around another in front of her, but the sound of the music suddenly stopping startled me, pulling me up short.

"Let's take this party up a notch!" someone called out, and I followed the sound to see three guys taking position on a raised platform with a drum kit and microphones. One sat behind the drums, while one holding a bass guitar took position at one of the microphones.

But the one who really caught my eye—and whose presence caused a whole lot of commotion and the crowds rushing over to the makeshift stage—was the one in the leopard print shirt and black leather pants who had an electric guitar strapped to him.

He was a very familiar face around Stonewell—especially the college campus.

Colton Sharp, playboy extraordinaire.

His platinum-blond wavy mohawk was styled to perfection, his toned body emphasized by his form-fitting clothing. He was clean-shaven with so many hoops and studs in his ears that there were too many to count.

Shrieks and applause erupted as he took position. "This is a new one. Just for you," he spoke, making the crowd go even wilder.

Then they launched into hard-rock anthem.

His voice was gritty with a sexy rasp, and the confident way he moved and the seductive way he rolled his hips and grasped the microphone as he got into the song, his passion pulsing forth… it was intense and one hell of a pull.

He had the place enraptured in mere moments, that charisma of his and that powerhouse voice taking control of the whole place.

It was staggering.

I'd never seen him live before. I'd only heard one of his songs from Chloe after she'd worked with him on some branding related to that specific song during her mixed media class.

He stuck out his tongue during a guitar solo and a tongue piercing glinted under the muted lighting in the space. Whoa.

Speaking of the lights, they started to dim when he reached the end of the song and a slower, more intimate melody began.

A chill rolled through me as they dimmed too much for my liking.

I didn't… I didn't like the dark.

As if that wasn't bad enough, the sorority girls around me had disappeared into the crowd which had shifted when Colton had taken the stage.

And Chloe was gone!

Shit!

I spun around, trying to locate her through the dark, crowded space.

I tried to make my way through, but I had to push through the throngs that felt like they were closing in around me.

Heat rose to my face and neck, my chest.

My pulse spiked.

My breathing became unsteady and a strain.

I was about to suffer one hell of an anxiety attack.

Making it to the wall, I managed to navigate around the outside of the space and make my way out into the lobby.

The dark lobby where no one was hanging out now that concert was underway and had focused everyone's attention.

My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket and I pulled it out with shaky fingers.

It took me three tries to swipe it open.

Chloe: Sorry I disappeared. Threw up in bushes. At your car. Drive me home.

Relief coursed through me. She was okay.

Brianna: Be right there.

I pocketed my phone, then slumped against the wall, needing to take a beat before I headed outside and saw her. I didn't want her to see me like this. She didn't know about these… episodes. No one did. Not even my dad.

They weren't a regular occurrence, so it wasn't a big deal.

Besides, I could handle it.

Right now, I just needed a moment.

Unfortunately, I wasn't even granted that as a booming voice sounded, followed by what appeared to be two sets of screams, a moment before two bodies rolled down the stairs over on the other side of the lobby.

I watched, stupefied, as the two guys scrambled up in obvious pain, beaten and bloodied, just as a hulking mass of a man stomped down the stairs.

"You're done. With your fraternity. With this campus," he spoke in a fierce and uncompromising tone.

I took him in and the recognition set in right away even in my current discombobulated state.

Mason Hall. The best friend of Colton Sharp. He was the eerily quiet one who projected a fearsome edge.

Just like he was now.

His caramel-brown hair was thick and shaved short on the sides. He was way over six-foot and broad too with linebacker shoulders. His left arm was covered in tattoos all the way down. And his right shoulder down to the top of his elbow was inked with a skull tattoo with wings and the snarl of a lion. He was wearing a black button down short-sleeve shirt that highlighted all that ink, but also had him partially blending into the dark, especially when combined with his navy designer jeans.

"You're marked," he rumbled.

The two guys nodded frantically, then hurried off, stumbling in their step from their haste and their injuries.

Mason cursed, then headed back on up the steps murmuring something about rooting out the rest of the filth.

Wow.

I leaned my head back against the wall and tried to concentrate on my breathing, when somebody barged on in from outside and came to a sudden stop just as they were about to pass by me to enter the concert space.

"Lost your way, hottie?" he spoke.

"No. just taking a breather."

"Too much cheap beer, is it?" he asked, his voice taking on a taunting tone.

And something else.

Something I had an instinct for. Something dangerous and threatening.

That was proven right in the next second when I went to push off the wall and he slammed me back against it with a hand to my chest, the jarring impact making me choke.

"Mason can't stop us all," he muttered to himself as he sank his hand into my hair. "Thinks he's a fucking god."

I went to turn my head away, but he fisted it, holding me in place.

Adrenaline thrummed through me, but its power and my reaction was muted too much in my current state.

He shoved his knee between my legs making me grunt. "Your friend was our target. Easy prey all fucked-up like that. But her throwing up was a major turnoff. But now you're here. Dazed and looking like a lost little lamb. And alone in the dark."

A growl sounded from the shadows.

"She's not alone," someone rumbled.

The asshole in my space jolted and swung his head around.

He didn't get much further than that before a hooded figure launched himself from the shadows, snagged the guy around the throat and ripped him from me.

He was pounding on him then with fists of absolute fury.

He slammed him into the side of the stairs, then wrenched his shoulder, making the guy scream, before knocking him out with a knee to the face.

"Piece of shit," he ground out as he smashed his boot into the guy's ribs even as he was already sprawled out unconscious on the lobby floor.

"All right, Wildflower?" he asked, leaving the guy and coming back to me.

A chill rang down my spine as I made the connection.

The Blocked ID who'd texted me the first day back.

"He won't touch you again. No one will," he went on, as I stood there trying to make out his identity beneath that low-hanging hood he had up and the dark of the lobby.

He got up close, but didn't reach out, or actually touch me at all.

"I'm back. You're safe now."

What the—

"Who are you?"

He flipped his hood down.

Oh. My. God.

I couldn't… I couldn't believe it.

Trying to process it was a whole other thing.

Those eyes of his, a rare shade of pale blue, burned into mine with an intensity that couldn't be denied. His black, curly hair was wild and piled on top, some strands falling over the left side of his face and obscuring his eye.

And most prominent of all was that jagged scar down the left side of his neck.

A scar I knew the story of. Every disturbing detail of it.

He was just under six-foot with a boxer's toned and muscular physique.

Levi Knight.

It was everything I could do to conceal my true shocked reaction.

More than that, to conceal the recognition.

I managed to force a frown of confusion instead.

"It's been six years, but that shouldn't matter," he said, his eyes narrowing a little at my reaction, or lack thereof.

"Six years?"

"You know very well." He shifted his weight and thumbed himself. "Levi? Levi Knight?"

"I don't—wait—you used to go here before I showed up, right? You were a member of Hex ? The disbanded secret society here at Stonewell U?"

"It wasn't a secret society , but, yes. That's not how you know me, though."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at, but that's all I know of you." I pushed off the wall and sidled past him. "Thanks for your help with that rape-charge-waiting-to-happen, but I need to get my friend home and—"

He dodged into my path up so close that his appetizing sandalwood scent rolled through me.

My breath hitched, a noticeable gasp escaping me.

It had his eyes darkening.

"Admit that you remember me."

"I—"

A curse from the top of the stairs thankfully saved me from having to answer at all.

And in the next moment, rushed footsteps sounded, and I looked out to see Mason dragging somebody who looked half-dead, the guy barely able to stand. That was proven in the next second as Mason hauled him across the lobby toward the entrance doors and the guy collapsed halfway out.

Mason stilled on the last couple of steps as he noticed Levi there.

He looked almost as shocked as me.

"Fuck me! Lev?"

Levi finally took his intense gaze off me and turned.

In the next moment, Mason was there, slap-shaking with him, then pulling him in for a tight hug.

"You didn't give us a heads-up or anything. No one knew you were coming back. Not even me and Colt."

"Let's get you both out of here," Levi responded in an eerily calm tone.

"What?"

Levi gestured to the sprawled-out guy. "This place is done. There are five more around the east side who've been put down."

"You took care of some of those fuckers?"

"I had time."

"I'm more concerned with how you even knew about it."

"How do I know anything, Mason?"

"Lev, what's going on? What are you doing back here?"

"I have my reasons. Pack up, get Colt, and come with me. Then we'll talk."

As Mason tried to dig for more information, I'd heard enough.

I slipped out while they were talking and took the meandering, out-of-sight route to my car.

Holy hell . This had been a complete nightmare of a night out.

And, with Levi Knight now here, I didn't doubt that this was just the tip of the iceberg.

A brief nightmare was about to turn into an absolute hellscape.