Micah sneaks over and double-checks to make sure the door is locked before he rejoins us.
We have three pages left, three pages that Ranger’s already seen, that are freaking him all the way out. I have to keep reading.They only have two new recruits this year. Sometimes there are more. Sometimes there are none. But there’s always an initiation.
There’s always a bit of blood.
Dad knows. He’s one of them. And I know the things he did.
I’ve been using the key to follow them around the tunnels. They speak freely down there about their blessings, their privileges, and the sacrifices they’re more than happy to make to keep them. The Fellowship of the Divine is a cult, an old one, with origins tied back to the Catholic church.
And they scare me.
No, no, they terrify me.
The more I learn, the less I wish I knew.
My name comes up more often than I’d like it to.
Next page.
I’m honestly not surprised to see a drawing of the fox masks that Spencer and I spied in the woods.
Dear Diary, I wish I could tell you that I understood. But I don’t. Sometimes people do things that make little sense to the rest of us. Sometimes the people we love betray us. It happens, and there isn’t a damn thing we can do about it.
Today, I move my things into the girls’ dorm.
On Sunday, when Jack comes back, I’m leaving. I’d go sooner, but I can’t very well send for a car, now can I? Because he’ll know.
And he’ll never let me go.
Neither of them will.
They said to each other, “Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that plunder the vineyards; for our vineyards are in blossom.”
Deep breath. I look up and catch Micah’s moss green eyes across the drawing as Church slowly switches to the last page. Jenica was such an interesting person, and she carried a lot of hurt. Reading these pages is killing me.
“Too bad she couldn’t have been a little more direct,” he says, and Ranger makes a growling sound that draws our collective attention … straight over to his cock. It’s not erect currently, which is probably a good thing for me, but is he butt naked, and his muscles are, like, chiseled by the gods.
“Wipe the drool off,” Tobias whispers, reaching up to dab at the corner of my mouth with the end of his blazer sleeve. I slap him away as Ranger swings a white apron with ruffles and an adorable lemon pattern over his neck. He turns, flashing that tight ass of his to the rest of us.
“Chuck, if you wouldn’t mind …” he grinds out, as I blink in surprise at his glorious backside.
“I’m not touching your balls,” I choke back, gesturing at the other boys. “Especially not in front of them.”
“Oh god, Chuck-let,” Spencer groans, running a hand down his face. Church and the twins just smile as my face turns a brilliant ruby red. “He wants you to tie his apron, my sweet little micropenis.”
“But it’s nice that you’re thinking about my balls,” Ranger deadpans, looking over his shoulder at me, eyes dark.
“I wasn’t though,” I murmur, even though my protests are a lost cause and I’ve already made a total ball sack … I mean ass out of myself. Carefully, so as not to touch his scorching skin, I start to tie the apron strings into a floppy bow. Ranger grabs my hands and pulls them around his waist, pressing my palms over the front of the apron. I can feel the hardness of his abs beneath it as I try to relax against his mostly bare back. His skin smells like leather and sugar, and he’s so goddamn warm.
“Just … stay there for a minute,” he says, and I close my eyes, pressing my cheek into his skin and trying not to pass out from the dizzying gallop of my heart. My first day attending Adamson as a girl, my first time hugging Ranger Woodruff in the nude. Oh, and cults. Don’t forget about the cult. What a day.
“I’ll read the last page aloud then,” Church says, exhaling like he’s already glanced down at the page and knows what’s coming. “I’m meeting Jack at the angel statues, that glorious spot where Lionel and I had our first time.”
Ranger makes a choking sound, but doesn't stop stirring the filling for the pie.
“I’m going to ask Lionel to run with me; I don't know if he’ll come. He's a good man, but a skittish one. A kind heart does not a warrior make. If he doesn't, that's okay; I’m not sure the Fellowship is aware he’s been watching, too. I just want him to be safe. I just want to make it out of here. I just want to live.”
Church stops reading, but when I move to step away from Ranger, he won't let me go. He presses one of his hands against my palms, keeping me still, keeping me pressed against him.
