Sick Boys: Chapter 22

Even after the extensive shower I just took, I still don’t feel clean.

It’s as if their sickness stained my fucking soul.

I can’t rub off their scent. The mark left on my brain.

All I can think about is those masks as they cornered me in the woods and took what they wanted from me. My mouth, my body, even my pussy—all of it as if I was made just for them.

I shake off the jitters and jump in my bed.

I’ll need the sleep to handle what’s coming because now that they’ve touched me, I’m sure they’ll come back for more. Maybe they’ll even return to that tree, wondering where I am after they left me there to hang dry.

Fucking monsters.

Kayla lets out a loud snore, and I almost jolt up and down in bed.

I usually never get scared.

But after tonight … no fucking wonder.

I turn around in bed, but it’s hard to fall asleep with all these thoughts raging through my head. These stupid boys even invaded my safe space as the memories of them ravaging me keep floating to the forefront of my mind. And for some reason, it makes my pussy thump.

Goddammit, stop, Penelope.

They’re fucked up.

Groaning, I flip around again and force myself to lie in a position I hate so I don’t have to feel my body going crazy.

I’ve never had anything like this happen to me before.

Though I doubt many people have.

Who in their right mind would make a deal with not just one but three devils?

Me, that’s who.

But I have a reason. A mission. Someone I wasn’t there to protect needs me to bring her justice, so I fucking will. Even if I have to let those sick boys corrupt me.

I shoot up in bed to the sound of my alarm.

Did I actually sleep?

I hadn’t even noticed I’d finally fallen asleep.

I rub aside the hair stuck to my face and look at the clock.

Oh my God, it’s the final alarm. I’ve missed two of them already. Shit!

I’ve got a rendezvous with my parents today.

I throw off my blanket and jump out of bed, then scramble to find clean clothes. I should really take some to the dryer and get my shit together.

Kayla comes out of the bathroom, yawning. “Morning. Sleep well?” she asks while I jump around to try to get my ripped black jeans to fit.

I nod. “You?”

“Amazing,” she says, snorting. “You came home late last night, didn’t you?”

“Did I wake you up?” I ask. “Sorry.”

“But was it a good party?” she asks, winking. “Did you hook up with anyone?” She bumps into me with her hips.

“No,” I lie, quickly grabbing some cereal and milk.

“I can see the blush on your face,” she jests, watching me gobble it down.

“Well, sorta,” I muse. “If you can call it that.”

I slurp down my breakfast while also putting on some makeup to make myself look decent after last night’s onslaught.

“What’s his name?” Kayla asks as she throws herself down on her bed. “Or her.”

I do one last check of my room, but I can’t find the diary anywhere.

“Oh, uhh …” It’s so damn hard to lie. “F… Fred.”

Fuck. Where is it?

“Fred?” Kayla cringes. “Nah, you wouldn’t hang out with a white piece of bread like that.”

“Okay, fine. I don’t remember, okay?”

Where the fuck did I put that diary? I swear to God, I left it underneath my pillow as always.

She laughs. “So you kissed some dude while drunk? Nice.” She raises her brows and puts her hands underneath her chin. “Or was it more than just kissing? C’mon, I need all the deets.”

“It was literally a Halloween party,” I reply in a hurry.

I rummage through all my books, but the diary is nowhere to be found.

What if … someone broke into the room again and stole it?

Someone like Alistair King.

My blood begins to boil.

“Oooh, so they had masks.” Her face starts to glow.

“They tied me to a fucking tree,” I rebuke, annoyed the diary is missing again.

She eyes me down. “They?”

Oh, fuck me. There goes the nice lie.

Now I’m really blushing.

She sits up straight. “Wait, don’t tell me it’s those Skull & Serpent Society boys? F as in Felix?”

I check my phone.

Fuck. No more time.

“I gotta go,” I say, and I run for the door.

“Wait, you can’t just drop a bombshell on me like that and then leave!” Kayla says.

But I’m already out the door. I’ll explain later. I need to get out of here fast before I say things that will make her want to get involved. I’ve already endangered my own life. No need to endanger hers too.

I head straight for the coffee shop where I agreed to meet my parents down in Crescent Vale City, the one called Fi’s Cups and Cakes along the road that leads up the mountain to Spine Ridge.

Mom: Penelope, are you almost here? You’re late. And your dad’s getting antsy.

Penelope: Coming! Five minutes max.

Mom sends me a picture of Dad holding a cup of tea and a macaron, making me grin. It’s so out of character for him to pose like that, especially considering he’s more of a coffee person. But he’ll do anything for my mom.

I walk down the streets, completely out of breath by the time I finally reach the shop.

When I open the door, Mom turns in her seat. “There you are. I was wondering if you’d even make it.”

Panting, I approach them and give her a kiss. “Hi, Mom.”

“You look like you ran a marathon. Did you walk all the way here from the university?” she asks.

“No, of course not. Took a bus. But had to run from the stop,” I explain, and I kiss my dad on the cheeks too. “Sorry, I’m late. Had a rough night.”

“Up to no good?” He raises a brow.

I sit down on the only seat left. “You know me.”

My dad grins and takes a sip of his tea. “The tea is not strong enough.”

I snort. I can never tell whether he’s just trying to play it cool or means it for real.

“Server!” Dad calls, raising his hand. “Another cup, please. And add an espresso as well.”

“So how’s school?” Mom asks. “Tell us all about it.”

“It’s okay,” I reply. “I’m trying to catch up on everything I missed in the first month. But I’m hanging in there.”

“And what about friends?” she asks, taking a sip of her tea. “Meet anyone new? Interesting?” She pauses. “Someone to keep an eye on?”

I glance at Dad. “Well, I’ve made some friends but also some enemies.”

“Enemies?” Mom raises a brow. “Already?”

“You know how she is, Emilia,” Dad says, grabbing my hand. “Just like us.”

Mom laughs. “True.” And she takes another sip. “Well, just do your best. We’re proud of you, regardless. And if things don’t work out, you can always call it quits.”

“No,” I say. “Not a chance. I’m gonna see this through until the end.”

Dad squeezes my hand.

The server comes to bring us the drinks, interrupting our conversation. “There you go! The espresso was for you, sir, right?”

Dad nods at her. “The tea is for my daughter, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the server says, and she walks off again.

I grab a macaron from the plate in front and stuff it in my mouth, the taste almost making me want to moan. Mom always knows how to find the best shops in town.

“Are you sure you’re all right at that university?” Mom asks.

I take a sip of the hot tea. Spicy, just the way I like it. “It’s okay. I can handle myself.”

“But you know what happened to your sister, and I know what kind of people go there, and I—”

Dad grabs Mom’s hand now and interrupts her. “Emilia, she wanted this. Let her do this.”

Mom sighs. “I know, I’m just worried.” A gentle smile forms on her lips. “I don’t want to lose another one of my babies.”

I lean in for a hug. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I know how to protect myself.”

“Do you still have the knife your dad gave you?” she asks.

I nod.

Our foreheads collide. “Don’t hesitate to use it.”

I glance at my dad, who studies us both. “I’m probably going to need a couple more.”

He grins. “That’s my girl.”