Sick Boys: Chapter 23

Monday

I run down the stairs and throw my bag over my shoulders before I head outside. The school grounds are bustling with people, but I’m the only one running like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to be on time.

God, I should really get a better sound for my alarm clock because this one obviously isn’t loud enough to wake me.

When I finally get to the building, I’m out of breath and clutching my knees, panting like crazy.

“Had a good run?”

A familiar voice makes me look over my shoulder.

Crystal smiles at me. “Hey, Pen. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

“Late?” she asks.

I check my phone again. “One minute.”

“Yikes,” she says, but then she gasps. “Oh, you’ve got a gnarly-looking gash there.”

I follow her eyes all the way down to my chest, where an obvious burn mark is visible above my crop top. Either from the rope or from Dylan waving his lighter in front of me.

Fuck. I can’t even walk around in my normal clothes without people noticing something happened. I must’ve been lucky with the clothes I wore to the coffee shop that my parents didn’t even notice.

“Here.” Crystal pulls the scarf off her neck and wraps it around mine. “That’ll cover it up.”

“Thanks,” I say.

“Keep it.” She smiles again. “It looks good on you.”

I like that she doesn’t ask me what happened. Just tries to help me.

“I’ll see you later,” she says.

I wave as I walk to the classroom, barely making it on time before the teacher closes the door.

But I forgot that this is the class in the auditorium … and Dylan and Felix are right there in the same spot as before, staring me down.

Without masks, it’s hard to imagine these are the same boys who literally sprayed me with cum while I was tied to a tree.

I gulp and walk past all the chairs to the only spot left, feeling their eyes bore a hole into my back.

I hate that we share this class.

But what I hate even more is how I can’t even look at them without being reminded of how they tied me up and had their way with me. And I know they fucking know they have this effect on me because every time I turn to gaze at them, they throw me an insufferable smirk.

Assholes.

I sit down and put my books in front of me, but it’s hard to concentrate on the teacher’s lecture when I’m torn by questions that I still don’t have any answers to.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes.

I grab it from my pocket and check.

There’s a fucking message from Felix.

What the fuck?

How did they get my number?

Felix: Don’t forget. I call, you come.

Furious, I text back.

Penelope: How the fuck did you get this number?

Some typing ensues, and the wait makes me bite my inner cheek.

Felix: Dylan swiped it.

Oh fuck me, so that’s what he was doing with my phone last night.

I scroll through my numbers, and of course, he put Felix, Alistair, and his own number in there … his own under the name of Sex_God.

I roll my eyes and start a conversation with him.

Penelope: Hey sex god, no one asked you to put your number in my phone.

Sex_God: You don’t have to ask, it’s a service, free of charge.

Penelope: You’re ridic. This name too.

Sex_God: Ask me what I put down in my phone for your number…

My fingers dig into the metal of the phone.

Penelope: You know I can just block you all, right?

Sex_God: Try us, little whore. See how it works out for you.

Fuck.

Of course, it had to be something completely off the rails.

Penelope: It can’t be any worse than what you’ve already done.

Sex_God: Got a few tricks up our sleeves. Don’t worry, little whore.

Do I even want to know?

I just know this will get out of hand. I have to remind them about the bargain we made. I refuse to be anyone’s plaything for free.

I go back to the conversation with Felix.

Penelope: I did what you asked. Now you do your fucking part.

Felix: Ask nicely.

My nostrils flare with rage.

Penelope: PLEASE.

Felix: Good girl.

I clench my legs together.

I could hear him say those words out loud in my head.

What the hell?

Felix: I’ll see you after class. Library first floor. Historical biographies section.

I glance at him over my shoulder. He doesn’t even throw me a single look even though I know he can see me looking. Asshole.

I text Alistair instead.

Penelope: You made a deal with me. You need to come through.

Alistair: You asking me to come? Again?

Fuck them. Can’t they think about anything other than sex?

Penelope: I mean it. I let you do what you wanted, so now it’s your turn to do what I want.

Alistair: And what is it you desire, feisty queen?

Well, I guess that’s a better nickname than the others even though I know it’s all meant as a big fucking joke to make me feel inferior.

Penelope: My diary is missing. Did you steal it again?

Alistair: Maybe.

I sigh out loud.

Penelope: It’s mine. Give. It. Back.

Alistair: It’s not up to me, and we can’t.

Penelope: Why?

Alistair: Felix needs it for something.

They’d better not damage it, or I swear to God, there will be blood on my hands.

Alistair: Don’t worry, it’s safe.

Penelope: I doubt it.

Alistair: So what was this thing about some guy called Nathan?

I’m surprised he remembers that.

Penelope: Are you going to help me?

Alistair: Depends on your answer.

I take the note from my bag and take a picture of it, then send it to him.

Penelope: He shoved this note under my door.

Alistair: Interesting.

There’s a long pause.

Penelope: So you’re not going to say anything?

Alistair: I’ll have a talk with the guys.

Okay.

Sighing, I put down my phone and peer over my shoulder, but they’re not even looking at me anymore. Meanwhile, I’m tense as fuck as my eyes fixate on the clock, waiting for the time to pass until this class is over.

Because the first thing I’ll be doing is heading straight for the library to confront them.

Felix

Twenty minutes later

When the library door closes behind me, I can feel the electricity practically zing off my body. She’s in here. I can fucking smell it. Her perfume lingers in the air, drawing me in like a lure. And I’m definitely coming for the bait.

I walk up the stairs and head for the most secluded part of the library. The part no one ever visits for fun, let alone to study. Who in their right fucking mind is ever interested in some old drab from some old fucker’s life who lived five hundred years ago?

No one … except me. Because I’m not here to read, and neither is she.

When I spot her behind a bookcase, my heartbeat picks up, the adrenaline flooding my body.

The ripped black jeans she’s wearing barely cover her ass, and the sight makes my mouth water.

I’ve already felt her wetness on my fingers. Maybe it’s about time I tasted it too.

“Penelope,” I whisper.

She gasps. “Who’s there?” She turns around and checks each case. “Felix?”

But I can easily outpace her.

From behind a bookcase, I watch her. Her face scrunches up in a pretty way when she’s annoyed. Pretty enough to make me want to bend her over the desk behind her.

“I can see you …” I mutter through a hole in the bookcase.

In shock, she turns around, our eyes connecting for a brief second before I disappear again behind another bookshelf.

But I can hear her breathe heavier and heavier with every passing second. The sound is like a drug to me.

God, I’m a sucker for a chase.

When she’s with her back to me, I slide past two narrow bookcases and slowly snake my hands around her waist.

She shrieks, so I swiftly cover her mouth.

“Shh … We don’t want people to come looking now, do we?” I whisper into her ear. Her naked belly underneath that crop top pushes in and out with quick, ragged breaths, her panicky eyes finding mine when she turns her head. “I’ll remove my hand if you promise not to scream.”