Page 49 of Spin the Damn Bottle

"I'm going to take my sweet, sweet time with you, Reyes. I'm going to fuck all of your holes and come all over your tits."

I bring my knee to his crotch, hitting him hard.

"You bitch!" he croaks.

"This is the closest I'll ever get to your dick, asshole. You disgust me," I snarl, before retreating to class, heart galloping.

He was lying, right? Jason would have told me. He would have…

I know exactly what he would have done if that was true. Jason would prepare me for it. Make me touch others, make me crave debased, debauched things. Groom me into the kind of person who wouldn't mind it.

If I'm honest with myself, the picture Christoph painted doesn't shock me. It wouldn't even repulse me if the likes of that repugnant ape wasn't in the picture.

When I get to the art studio, still shaking,I pull my phone out and type a quick text.

Me:I need to talk to you.

Jason sends a thumbs-up, nothing more.

Mr. Weir soon enters and makes us get to work.

After class, David's waiting for me as usual, to bring me back to Glass. I pace in my room while Jason and the others are at practice, frustration and anger rising with every passing minute.

He walks through my door without knocking at five thirty. "Hey, doll."

"Is it true your club does some sick initiation ritual?" I glare, challenging and defiant.

Jason, still in his football uniform, raises an eyebrow. "Who told you?"

"Well, is it?" I push.

He shrugs. "In most instances, sure. It's supposed to be secret, though. Who spoke to you about it?"

"Chris," I spit.

"Of course. Chris. He does love the debutantes, that pervert."Jason laughs. "Don't look at me like that. You don't have to go through it. In fact, you don't even have to join the group if you don't want to. It would make things easier for me, but I won't push the issue."

Some of my ire leaves me. "Oh."

"I'm a member, though, and I wouldn't like attending private club events without you." He sheds his shirt, revealing the sculptural torso I'm intimately familiar with. "Christ, Coach is a dick before the breaks. Do you mind if I get in your tub?"

I nod my agreement, making my way to the platform and starting the water. "I don't like Chris," I say. "I wouldn't want to be part of a club that forces me to do things with guys like that."

"I already said you don't. The debutante and male initiate hazing is for petals who become blossoms, or the thorns who turn to stems—the recruits club members bring into our folds to join our ranks. You're not a petal or a blossom. You'remy woman."

I don't think I understand. "What's the difference?"

"They have something to prove. The club helps them get out of the holes they crawl out of—and I do mean holes. People with the brains, the looks, but no future in front of them. The Heritage paves their way to success. Their debts are paid, their pasts are wiped clean, they get to attend the best schools, and they're a shoo-in for whatever job they want, like Harry."

"Harry Voss?"

Jason nods. "He came out of foster care with nothing but a debt to the dealer he was working for and a target on his back. Now, he's on top of the world. After his year as a thorn, we'd smoothed things out with his past. He went through his initiation, and came out a fucking rock star. Plenty of people find the reward worth it." He grins. "And many like the initiation. It's just one night. Before and after that, they choose who to play with."

I can imagine that if some guy who looks like Jason Alden found girls at rock bottom and asked them if she'd be willing to be tied up and fucked for one night in exchange for all of her wishes to become true, ninety-nine percent of them wouldn't even hesitate.

"So, how am I different?"

"You don't need help. You're not a recruit. When you join the Heritage, you'll be a full member."