“Initiation tasks?” I feel like I’ve wandered into the pages of a dark romance book.
“We must complete several stages and tasks before turning eighteen. Only after successful completion, and graduating high school, can we climb the ranks of the order and become fully fledged members of Parkhurst.”
“What would happen if you didn’t do it?”
“They would kill me.”
My eyes blink rapidly. I want to call bullshit on it, but this is the elite we are discussing, and none of their traditions or rules have ever made much sense to me. “Couldn’t you fake it?”
He shakes his head. “There’s a public ceremony.”
I swing my legs around, adopting the same position as him on my side of the couch. “Are you saying you lost your virginity at a ceremony where people were watching?” I say in a high-pitched tone of voice.
“Yep.” He looks vaguely amused.
“I’m glad to see it hasn’t affected you.” I scowl, feeling sick all over again.
“I’d been in training for it for months,” he confirms as my horror grows.
They forced that on them when they were twelve?
“My hormones were running wild, and I’d become slightly addicted. I wasn’t keen on everyone watching, especially my father, but it wasn’t a chore.”
“What did training involve?” I ask although I’m unsure if I want to know.
His lips kick up at the corner. “Upon your twelfth birthday, you’re assigned a woman as your sexual mentor. Imelda was mine. She was twenty-two and hot as fuck. Her job was to educate me on all things sex related. She taught me everything I know.”
My mouth gapes open. What the actual fuck? I’m grossed out all over again. Not just because it’s morally wrong, and it amounts to child abuse, but because the way Charlie is speaking about it, bragging almost, is wrong on so many levels. What have they done to the guys to make this acceptable?
“But you said you didn’t lose your virginity until you were thirteen. I don’t understand,” I say, because his statement is contradictory.
“Penetrative sex was off limits until the ceremony, but she showed me how to give and take oral, and I fucked her pussy and her ass with my fingers and vibrators. We watched pornos, experimented with toys, and I was in the room when she had sex with other guys so I could take notes.”
“That is…disturbingly gross and sick.” Acid coats the insides of my mouth. “How on earth does someone get a job as a sexual mentor, anyway?” I’d like to know where they get these sick bitches from.
“All the women who perform roles within Parkhurst are either carefully vetted or from an elite family.”
“Why would any of the elite pass their daughters over as sexual mentors?”
“It’s a great honor.”
I throw up a little in my mouth, and I can’t keep the shock off my face as I listen to the nonchalant way he discusses being abused as a child. Because, make no mistake, that’s exactly what this is.
“Some men offer their wives up too,” Charlie adds. “Trent’s mentor was thirty-five, and Drew and I loved teasing him about it.”
I don’t speak for several minutes, too horrified to form words.
“Oh my God,” I say after a few beats of silence, as realization dawns. “Trent’s mentor must’ve liked it rough, and there’s no way in hell I want to hear anything about my brother’s mentor.” Nausea swirls in my gut. “Can we move off this subject before I hurl my guts up?”
He scoots forward, pressing his mouth to my ear. “I know it’s distasteful to you, but I’m a skillful lover. When I get you in my bed, you will scream my name all night long.”
That just might be the sickest statement of all. How can he be proud of his skills knowing it came from being sexually abused and publicly debased as a child?
Approaching footsteps are the only thing that saves Charlie from a knee in the junk. “Fuck,” he hisses, glancing at his watch. “Don’t fight me on this, just go with it.” His eyes convey silent warning.
I don’t have time to respond before he slides me down underneath him and presses his body over mine. His lips descend again, and I kiss him back this time, ignoring the protests screaming in my head when he frantically unknots my robe, shoving it off my shoulders, and slipping his hand up under my top. With his other hand, he pulls my leg up, wrapping it around his waist, before grinding his hips into mine just as the door to my bedroom flies open.
A deep chuckle reverberates around the room, and I’m not faking the freezing. Charlie removes his hand from under my top and pulls away from me. Sitting upright, he straightens his suit, smirking as he levels a knowing look at my father.
“I thought I might find you here,” the bastard says.
“Massage duty,” Charlie quips, curling his hands in a cupping motion, and I want to smother him in his sleep. “Someone’s got to do it.” He slips his feet into his shoes and ties the laces.
I pull my top down and fix my robe around myself, sitting up and plastering a fake smile on my face. “Funny,” I deadpan, leaning over to kiss him, hating every second of this. “Thanks for dropping by. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He stands, reeling me into his arms, and dipping me down low as he kisses me deeply, like he did that night on the stage. Except, this time, I don’t see any stars through the red haze of anger coating the backs of my eyes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
School the following day is a strange experience without Jane by my side. All day, suck-ups approach me, telling me how happy they are that I’m back. My engagement to Charlie is all over the school, and I garner envious looks from several of the girls when they spot the massive diamond on my ring finger.
Charlie is waiting outside my class to escort me to the cafeteria. My nerves are shot to hell at the prospect of seeing Kai and not being able to talk to him. Jackson was in one of my morning classes, and it took mammoth effort to ignore him. The elite have spies all over the school, so I can’t risk even the slightest look for fear it’ll get back to Charlie.
Or Trent.
Because he wants payback, and landing me in it with my new fiancé and my father would be right up his alley.
Charlie takes my bag and slings his arm around my shoulder as we walk through the crowded hallway toward the cafeteria. The masses part to let us through, and I force a smug smile on my face, while inwardly calculating how many days we have left until Christmas break.
I contain my surprise as Charlie leads us toward our old table. The one where Trent is sitting with Shandra Farrell by his side. Drew looks up as we approach with a genuine smile on his face. He pulls out the chair beside him for me, and I round the table, ignoring my ex and his new plaything.
Although, I have to say I’m surprised at Shandra.
She’s one of the inner circle, from a respectable, well-liked family, and she’s super smart and very career-orientated. She’s not the type to hang off any guy, especially a douche like Trent.
“I’ll get your lunch,” Charlie says as I sit down beside my twin.
“Thanks, babe.” He pecks my lips briefly before walking off toward the counter.