Page 7 of Racing Hearts
I know better.
I fight back, but there are too many hands, and when my eyes open in confusion, something dark and heavy lands over my head, tightening around my neck. I kick and struggle, giving it all I have, which is a lot, but it’s no use, and my hands and feet are bound before I’m lifted into the air and carried away.
My eyes strain against the dark material, trying to make anything out as I shout and twist. Someone grunts as my foot connects with them, but it’s useless, and when I hit something hard and roll after being thrown, I freeze. An engine sounds a moment later, and then we are moving.
I can’t believe I have been kidnapped. Seriously, what the fuck?
Who the fuck gets kidnapped nowadays? It’s kind of embarrassing, not to mention it’s pissing me off even more. We drive for what feels like forever, and although I try to memorize the turns, it’s useless. I was never good with that type of thing.
I’m hauled out and then dropped to my knees a while later. My eyes strain through the material. All I can see are lights and distorted shapes. Even my hearing is muffled through the thick fabric.
My heart races, and my hands sweat as anticipation and adrenaline pump through me. As soon as this bag comes off, I’m fighting with all I have. I don’t know who did this or why, but they have another thing coming if they think I’ll make it easy on them.
I burst to my feet, stumbling over the ropes, when the hood is ripped off. I blink, trying to bring everything into focus even as I slam my wrists down onto my leg, breaking the zip ties. My hands are free, but then I freeze as I take in the scene before me.
“Oh, fuck no. I’m not being sacrificed to some weird cult tonight. You got the wrong guy,” I tell them, pointing my finger at the hooded figures standing in a semicircle around me.
There are six of them in total. Their heights vary, but they wear the same black robes with hoods covering their faces. Each robe has a symbol on the right breast, and I squint at it before I realize I don’t care. The room smells dusty and old, like there isn’t enough air, and old bricks line each wall of what I can almost describe as a crypt. The arched brick ceiling makes it dark and creepy, as do the candles flickering with flames throughout.
Definitely a cult.
“I wouldn’t. I’m as far from a virgin as you can get,” I blurt out, and a chuckle sounds.
“Oh, we know that.” A hood is pushed back, and I’m left blinking in shock at Liam.
“Dude, what the hell? Is this some senior prank?” I demand, my arms crossed. “The kidnapping was a bit much.”
“It’s tradition.” He shrugs, and someone next to him pushes their hood back. I get a look at a beautiful black-haired girl who grins at me.
The others push theirs back. They aren’t familiar apart from the tattooed asshole at the end. What is it with tattooed assholes right now? Luckily, this one isn’t Alek Anders. It’s the guy they call Bones from law class. I’ve heard about him, and yeah, I might have checked him out once or twice. Right now, he’s watching me with a dark expression.
Great.
“It’s not a swingers club, is it?” I ask slowly. “Because I have to admit, I’ve done the sharing thing before, but it just doesn’t do it for me.”
The black-haired girl snorts. “You wish.”
“Autumn.” Liam sighs before smiling at me.
“Not a cult, not a swingers club, but we should totally discuss the sharing thing.” He smiles. “No, Evan, welcome to the Society of the Silent Rose, named after the founder of this school, Albert Rose.” He grins at me, and I glance around, unsure.
The words hang in the air, filled with importance and honor, as if I should be shocked and on my knees in gratitude.
“Sorry, never heard of you.” The others look at me in horror. “Was I supposed to?”
“Our society is the oldest on campus, the most exclusive. We live through whispers passed down through generations. Usually, you must be blood to be invited. It’s an honor.”
“Right, uh, so why am I here?” I ask, completely confused. I’m not of ancient blood or whatever, and I certainly don’t fit their criteria.
“We have a space to fill, and everyone was allowed to submit a candidate. You were one of them, but we can’t tell you who submitted you.”
“Liam,” I say knowingly, and Autumn sighs. “Oops.”
“We investigate the person thoroughly to see if they are the right fit. Tonight, you fought for someone other than yourself. So, Evan Shaw, we would like to invite you to be a member of the Silent Rose.”
“What does it entail?” I ask carefully. “Do we have matching outfits? I prefer something with a bit more color than those robes.”
Liam chuckles as he grins at me. “Yes, you’ll get a robe. It just means you are one of us. A brotherhood, if you will, to lean on throughout your life. When things are hard, we are here. We share opportunities and life lessons, and being a member opens doors you never would have thought possible. We have previous members as far up as the White House. It’s a very prestigious honor.”