Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Another chill runs through me and I tighten my hands on my phone. I’ve heard a lot of rumors and I’m part of dark web forums that discuss theories and stories about what these people are capable of.
Kane’s words said in a neutral newscaster voice shouldn’t shake me, but they do.
If I’d heard this a year ago, I would’ve turned around and left, but now?
Now, I have nothing to lose. And if I must use my life to avenge my sister, so be it.
So I say in a resolved, dead voice, “I’m sure.”
Kane watches me, neither surprised nor approving. “If you change your mind before you’re accepted, say a word only the two of us know and I’ll make it stop. No matter what it is. Let’s go with…red.”
I nod. “Why are you helping me?”
He taps my cheek with his index finger on which he’s wearing the ring. The cold metal sends a chill through me, but that’s nothing compared to the electrifying fire that spreads down my belly as his skin touches mine.
“I’m curious if you’ll last and how far you’ll go, my fake fan.” His smile drops as he pats my cheek one final time. “Don’t disappoint me.”
3
DAHLIA
Don’t disappoint me.
Don’t disappoint me.
Don’t. Disappoint. Me.
It’s been a week since Kane spoke those words to me. He’s said nothing since then, and for some reason, I can’t get them out of my mind.
I’ve been trying to sneak into the arena to watch the Vipers practice, maybe catch Kane’s attention and ask him about what steps will be taking place going forward. However, their security is no joke. They have a zero-tolerance policy for outsiders. Even if they’re the team’s biggest fans. Doesn’t matter if they go to Graystone University.
If it weren’t for the very real pictures in my phone, I’d think the whole conversation I had with Kane and the promise he made about taking me to the initiation was a figment of my imagination.
Sure, no one knows when and where Vencor’s initiations take place since, according to rumors, they change them up to keep the mysterious factor going.
But Kane is in the inner circle. The Senior level is the highest rank attainable for all members except for Founders. I have no clue what type of trials they must go through or how many souls they have to sell to the Devil to get there, but I suspect their own soul isn’t enough.
I frown at my picture with Kane on my phone. I posted it on social media the other day and tagged him, but all I got was a like. That’s all. No DM or further acknowledgment of my existence.
Nothing.
I’m supposed to be studying, but I find myself staring at the selfie.
Again.
Kane’s expression is calmer than a starless night and just as deep. I can’t imagine him selling his soul, to be honest. He genuinely listens and lacks Preston’s shadiness and Jude’s brutality.
He can be relentless during a game if need be, but I’ve never seen Kane be aggressive. Whether on or off the ice.
I zoom in on his hand, where the ring shows. He’s still a Vencor, a Senior Vencor. For some reason, I seem to gloss over that detail whenever I think about Kane.
Which I’ve done constantly since our last encounter.
Vencor or not, I don’t believe he’s the type who dishes out empty promises.
But why hasn’t he gotten in contact since then? He’s kind of untouchable on campus, so I can’t exactly walk up to him like we’re acquaintances. We study in completely different fields in buildings that are on opposite ends of campus anyway. Him, business. Me, pre-med. So it would be hard to pop in there and pretend it’s a coincidence.
Besides, would that be a smart thing to do? Initiating a public meeting? The other time, he made sure his teammates were out of earshot before he talked to me. I assume he doesn’t want our deal to be exposed.
“Kane Davenport. You ain’t playing about your crush.”
My head whips up. I was so focused and lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Megan getting close to my desk.
I fumble to flip the phone over. “He’s not my crush.”
Megan is my roommate in GU’s dorms and is here on a scholarship like me, so at least there’s not much societal difference between us. But lucky for her, she comes from a happy family and I often see her at the local cafés with her parents or siblings.
I keep to myself and she keeps to herself. She did try to befriend me in the beginning since she’s a real extrovert, but after she witnessed me studying like a dog to earn the grades needed for my scholarship, she kind of retreated and decided to spend more time with her friends in the social sciences department.
Megan is a redhead with dark skin and a striking fashion style. She’s rocking a red, white, and green kimono-style dress with slits in the skirt and glimmering chains for straps for one of her nights out.