Chapter 17: Chapter Sixteen

[A/N] We're back... we're back... Updates for this book should become much more regular and predictable from now on. But just in case I have my Twitter page (@OkiNeptune) where I update people during delays. Let's go. ᕙ( •̀ ⤙ •́ )ᕗ

I didn't know what it was about the guy, just looking him in the eyes made my skin prickle and the hairs on my back stand on end. Sure it could have been the fact that the memory of him stabbing someone to death in that dark abandoned carpark was still fresh in my mind like some strange imagined scene by an unwell mind, but I wasn't sure what I was feeling was fear exactly.

Awareness, intrigue, something tingling in my fingers, something warming up my neck and hands.

I looked up at him and he looked me dead in the eyes with those black orbs that refused to allow any light in.

"Give me my diary back." I demanded.

He tilted his head, dragging his fingers through his hair. "Don't you wanna confess something before making demands?"

I looked him over, a slight chill running down my spine with the strange way he looked me over as well, a slow icy gaze, maybe he was imagining me laying pale and lifeless with flared nostrils on that tarpaulin as well.

"Confess to what?"

He eyed me down and drummed his fingers on one of the abandoned school tables behind him as he leaned back on it. There was a scratch on his lip I could see better now, in the full light, it had bled and scabbed over, another on the side of his profile, on his cheekbone, and his hands had a couple plasters on them too.

I wondered what he got up to, outside of what I'd seen that night this guy had to have a full life that I couldn't fathom, he still seemed like some dark entity that had stepped out of the night and into real life.

"You broke out of the room." He stated calmly, inky black eyes watching me.

"You left the key in the lock."

He stared at me, the thought of a smile ghosting his lips. "Thanks for leaving it there for me."

I felt the stammer in my throat before I spoke. Instead it presented as a slight tremor in my voice that I regretted. "No problem."

Giving any amount of power to this guy felt like a mistake I would sorely regret. Just being near him made the hairs on my arms and legs stand on end. The air around him seemed effortlessly electric.

He opened the diary again and I felt something uncomfortable brush inside my stomach, my face felt warm but the feeling associated with that was floating off somewhere nearby, just out of reach.

"They asked us to pair up in science. I wanted to pair up with Victor but Emma grabbed his arm before I could even take a step towards him and gave me a look like don't interfere. She should know that he has a girlfriend. He's shown me pictures of her before. Does she really think she can get anywhere doing some stupid litmus test in science? He's not interested in her."

I felt that abrasive feeling inside me make my stomach muscles tense up. Embarrassed, that was what I was feeling, it wasn't as pronounced but it was there. My face felt hot, but my mind clear, a combination I had never experienced before.

I got up from my position on the floor and Pike didn't stop me, moving to sit on a table near the one Arran was sitting on to look at me with a relaxed grin, apparently entertained.

My fingers itched to grab the diary back from those elegant olive coloured fingers.

He used no mocking inflection in his voice, no dramatic tones, just his own smooth, low voice, hooded eyes passing over the text, the booklet held just barely by relaxed fingers.

"In fact he's nicer to me than he is her. It's not like we're friends but even then we know each other better than her. He's saved me more times than I can count. Not just from Patricks lot, but from Clyde, and everyone knew how bad he was. Clyde was so much worse than Patrick. He risked a lot vouching for me.

"I'm writing this in class because I'm on my own. I don't care, I didn't understand what the teacher wanted us to do anyway. Someone kept pulling my collar from behind and putting bits of ripped up paper down my shirt.

"I'm the only one in class that's failing and it's my favourite subject. Whatever though because I was never going anywhere. I'll care when I'm working at a fast food joint, the shame of the family.

"He's getting along with her though. She tells a joke. He laughs. It's not even funny, she just isn't funny, objectively speaking. I don't like her. She keeps seeing me looking. I meant to stop but I swear she's laughing loud on purpose..."

It was like listening to myself from another universe. I remembered writing the words but didn't remember hearing them the same way as they sounded now.

Cloying, whiny, jealous, clingy and pathetic, so clearly trying to be possessive over someone who I repeatedly acknowledged was straight and just trying to help a fellow classmate out, out of kindness. An abuse of that kindness, but the most worthless kind.

I felt my stomach curl a little. If Victor saw this he'd be disgusted. The need, the desperation. How had I not realised that at the time? I'd always felt like I'd acknowledged he was straight and not available, kept my distance and stayed withdrawn, but hearing that all read out to me made me realise just how desperate and jealous I must have appeared to him.

He must have seen that in me, every time I looked at him. How could he stand to be around me if that was true?

It was appalling.

I reached out, instead of grabbing it, wary of the fingers holding it however loosely they were. "Give it back."

He handed it to me, leaning back.

I grabbed it quickly, just barely brushing his fingers, and I felt the spark of electricity brush my fingers, an electric shot, it left my fingers feeling oddly burnt.

For a brief second I wanted to brush them again. Like I was touching something untouchable.

"It won't take much to find out where you live."

I stared him down but there was a tremor in my chest.

"Then do it."

The idea of this guy coming anywhere near my house, knowing where I lived, where I slept, made the electric sparks tingle in my hand.

"I won't need to bother if you confess." He tilted his head slightly.

"I didn't steal anything."

"You're such a fucking liar..." Pike scoffed. "You were the last one there."

I wanted to say that the cat could have escaped when they left the house, but they hadn't mentioned it was a cat yet had they? No, of course they hadn't. Each time I wanted to mention it I had to stop myself just in time.

I straightened up, and in doing so realised how fast my heart was beating for seemingly no reason. "That house was bare. Nothing there to steal. What am I supposed to have taken?"

The words came out smooth and confident, convincing, even to me. A small part of me that sheltered in the corner of my mind observed this with some curiosity.

Before... Was it always this easy to lie? No, in the past I became hot, itchy, embarrassed, I stammered, my head went into overdrive. I used to imagine all ten thousand possible consequences, the humiliation, of being caught, in a tense second.

"You know what was there..." Pike glared at me, sucking at one of his piercings, mild distrust in his eyes. "You think I won't beat the fuck out of you? Are you that stupid?"

"Why would I lie?" I asked him.

"Obvious reasons!" He accused me. "Such a dickhead. Let me." He demanded from Arran.

Arran didn't even look at him, but just barely raised a brow in response, checked his watch and stood up from leaning on the table.

"I don't know what you want me from me."

I exhaled and tested taking a step back around the corner. I genuinely had no interest in getting beaten up, but while I'd almost felt ready to take a beating from the other guys at school, the idea of this Arran guy really laying into me still intimidated me for some reason, just by breathing I wanted to run and move closer at the same time.

Why was I even lying. If I gave that cat back this would be sorted. The cat wouldn't bring back Milk. And there was no reason to think Arran would actually be more likely than me to find him. This wasn't even a bargaining chip I needed.

Then again maybe I was soaking up whatever comfort I could get, with that stolen affectionate cat laying on me so peacefully on the morning.

It wasn't Milk, but it was something. I got why people liked cats.

Arran stepped in my way, just one step, it was enough. With the broad shoulders, the distinctive muscle, and height that allowed him to look down at me with additional ease, it felt like there was nowhere to go.

I looked up at him.

My heart thumped in my chest as he stood and stared at me, unblinking, with eyes that really felt like ice.

"Take off your shirt."

There was a beat of silence. A rustle in the trees. Someone honking on a road across the private park just across the fence beside the back of the school where we were.

My eyes weren't wide, but I forgot to blink as I stared up at him.

"What?" I asked after some time.

When I looked Pike was also a little startled, and looked over at Arran with a frown. "What?" He asked as well.

Arran raised his hands, there had to be at least five plasters on his fingers, and a couple visible cuts going up his left wrist.

Something dawned on Pike and he nodded slowly. "Oh..."

I blinked in surprise as he approached me and backed up fast. "What're you-"

"Stop." The single word forced me to stop as I nearly stumbled backwards.

In fact it didn't force me, because words alone can't, but my brain short changed and my legs stopped without running it by me and my blood pumped through my veins a little faster and my skin prickled with awareness as his fingers dragged across the buttons of my school uniform and undid them effortlessly one by one, the tips of his fingers grazing my chest.

"What are you doing this for?" My voice sounded smooth, but my heart was racing inside.

He ignored me and I took a deep breath, as slowly as possible, to hide the fact that I was sweating even as the cold air brushed my skin, those terrifyingly cold eyes watching me as I stood still in front of him.

Was I crazy to think I could smell him, like leather and ash, the smell of burning but sweet, was that a cologne or the residue of a cover up? Did the scent of a burning corpse smell like that? That good? My nostrils flared as I tried to breathe in the scent, catch more than the bare whisp that brushed past me in the air.

Pike rolled up my sleeves with a raised brow, turning my arms, looking for something. "Huh..." He muttered.

But Arran barely moved my shirt after undoing the top four buttons, just looked down at my skin for a long moment, a gaze that burned as he let the tips of his fingers stay their, warming themselves on my skin.

I couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. I had a weird feeling, a tumbling in my belly, a thumping in my chest, my brain felt clouded, my skin hot.

I barely noticed Pike as he pulled back and frowned at Arran.

Arran stopped and also pulled back slowly, eyeing me down longer than he should have, long enough to let the trail his eyes left behind burn in perpetuity.

"Huh..." He spoke finally.

"He didn't steal Akuma..." Pike frowned at him. "He must have got out when we went out..."

Arran didn't unlock his eyes from mine immediately, I felt weirdly tense before him, my stomach clenched.

"You didn't steal my cat?"

I should have laughed to pretend a little better, but I was too on edge.

My skin felt weird, hyperaware, especially where his fingers grazed it.

"No."

He exhaled, looked annoyed and took a step back. "Fine." He turned and started to leave without another word.

It was almost jarring, to have that kind of intense attention on you one second, and then be dropped back into the cold the next.

It didn't feel good. Being able to breathe normally. I don't think I liked it as much as asphyxiating in his presence.

Pike followed happily behind him. "That's a good thing isn't it?" He asked him as he moved, quietly, but not exactly a whisper.

"But if I did have your cat..." I spoke suddenly, and the both of them stopped, Pike with a startled look, Arran, who both stopped and turned slowly to look back at me, seemed completely unreadable and closed off, even the chill his eyes gave off was apparently masked.

"Yes?" He asked the smooth dangerous question.

"I would suggest that you don't do anything to my dog. Because if you did. And I found yours. I'd kill it too."

He stared at me.

I stared back.

I heard, in my head, the twang of an old American country guitar, a tumbleweed passing by down a desert lane, saw the glint of a single action army revolver on both of our hips. Mine was empty, but he didn't know that.

The silence between us felt disturbing and sharp while I waited for him to respond.

But he glanced back down at my hands and up at my chest and then raised his eye level to my eyes.

"You've got terrible taste in thrills, Elliot."

My name sounded weird coming from him, louder than any other word, too clearly articulated in that smooth low voice, I felt a shiver that came from my stomach.

"I know." I replied simply.

He turned his back on me and they left.

But I didn't leave immediately, I sat on the floor and breathed heavily for a moment. It was hard to sort out my emotions when I couldn't tell exactly what I was feeling anymore. I'd really crushed a part of my brain, and it wasn't fixing itself, whatever function was missing might be gone forever.

It didn't make sense to want it back not when it was the only thing saving me from the lonely existence I was suffering from before, but for a moment I sat there and felt the weird feeling in my chest where he touched me and wanted to be able to feel properly again.

I just wasn't entirely sure why.

Maybe fear would have stopped me from wanting to feel that cold, hardened gaze on me again, the fingers that I saw hold the knife, the muscular frame that remained relaxed and calm as their victim lost the battle for his last breath.

Those eyes left me with goosebumps on my skin, the hair on the back of my neck standing up, and the contact with a prickle on my skin that wasn't disappearing, my heart tickling my chest with how fast it was beating.

Like staring a panther in the eyes.

[A/N] Thank you to the Wattpad Creators Program and my patrons for giving me the opportunity to write books like these. (⸝⸝ᵕ ᎑ ᵕ ⸝⸝)‧₊˚♡