Sick Boys: Chapter 52

The boys drive me back to the Skull & Serpent Society and park the car on the property before hopping out. Dylan opens the door for me and holds out his hand. “Milady.”

I snort. “That’s awfully chivalrous, even for you.”

When I take his hand, he says, “I thought it’d be a nice contrast after I just rearranged your guts.” He pulls me close to him, too close, and I can barely breathe when he smirks in my face. “Do you like it?”

I don’t even know how to respond. “Um… Yes?”

His eyes narrow. “Are you getting flustered, Pen?”

Fuck. Now I really can’t stop the heat from flooding my face.

“You’re really yearning for a beating, aren’t you, Dylan?” Felix says as he slams the door shut.

“I’m just having fun,” he retorts.

“By bullying me again?” I jerk my hand away from his.

“Bullying?” He scoffs, still keeping me close to him. “I prefer the word tease.”

“Enough playing around,” Felix barks as he marches to the door. “Get inside.”

“Woof,” Dylan barks back, and the glare Felix throws him is so funny it even makes me laugh.

“He’s right, though,” Alistair says as he walks up to us. “The Phantoms have obviously made her their target. It’s too dangerous to stay out here.”

He’s right.

Those fireworks in my sister’s room were definitely a message to me.

This means we’re getting closer to whoever caused her misery … and now mine.

I swallow as Alistair steals my hand away from Dylan and drags me along with him. “C’mon.”

“Hey, wait for me,” Dylan growls, jumping up the steps to the building.

We head inside and go through the main hall where the big staircases are. The last time I was here, it was dark and filled with sparkling lights and lots of people dancing around. Now it’s like a ghostly anteroom with doors and windows on all sides, all closed off.

“Jesus, this place needs some light,” I mutter under my breath.

“Felix doesn’t want people to snoop from the outside,” Alistair says.

I frown. “It’s a multistory building. Who’s gonna snoop on the second or third floor?” I point at the window at the top of the stairs, where thick curtains block the light.

“No need,” Dylan replies, and he flicks a switch.

A giant chandelier in the hallway turns on and brightens it with pretty crystals glittering onto the walls, and I stop and stare for a moment at its beauty. That light alone is expensive as fuck, and it makes me wonder how much money has been sunk into this society … these boys.

Alistair lets go of my hand and wanders off to the other side of the hallway. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room.” He adds a wink.

“C’mon, I wanna show you my room,” Dylan says, and he drags me along with him before I even get the chance to reply.

“Dylan …” Felix rumbles from the other side of the hall.

Dylan ignores him and pulls me into a different room. It reminds me of a hollowed cave, with steps lowering into an area where a red, velvety arch in the wall outlines a beautiful beige king canopy bed with a white curtain all around. To the left of the bed is a fireplace and to the right a door through which I can see a big bath. Soft lights with intricate Moroccan designs fills the bedroom, and the furniture looks so soft I could probably fall asleep on them and never wake up.

“Wow,” I mutter.

“Better than sex, right?” Dylan muses, and he jumps onto his bed and splays himself in a playboy fashion, rubbing the bed like he wants me to join him. “But what’s even better is this bed plus you.”

I snort as I approach him. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?”

He raises a brow, and it only makes me laugh harder.

I clutch one of the bars of the canopy bed. “This actually works on girls?”

He frowns. “Are you actually bullying me for a change?” He gets up. “I can’t believe it. Come here, you little rat.”

He lunges at me and hoists me onto the bed while I squeal and laugh at the same time, and he rolls me around until he’s on top of me.

“Wait, but we’re completely soaked!”

“I don’t care. I’ve got you now,” he says, pinning my hands above my head. “Just like I caught you the day you ran at the Halloween party.”

A hot flash runs through my body. God, I hate to be reminded of that day. Not because I despised it, but because of how every time I think about it, my clit still thumps.

“You weren’t alone,” I reply. “It would’ve been much harder for you if you were.”

“Oh.” His eyes flash with curiosity. “Are you suggesting I wouldn’t have been able to trap you myself?” His grip on my hands tightens. “What would you have done to avoid me then?”

“I have knives,” I reply, swallowing away the lump in my throat.

“And you think that would deter me?” he retorts, biting his bottom lip. “The challenge only gets me hard.”

I lift my knee, pushing against his bulge, which throbs from the touch, and even I have to admit it feels powerful to be the one to cause that kind of reaction. “You wouldn’t be able to handle me on your own.”

He groans with delight and pulls out his lighter, hovering it so close to my breasts I can feel the heat burn through the fabric. “I like your tenacity, Pen. I like how fearless you are in the face of pain.” And he leans in to press a kiss against my neck, turning off the lighter the moment it almost threatened to burn through my dress.

Suddenly, a loud clearing of a throat has us both turn our heads.

Felix stands in the door opening, clutching the doorpost with one hand, with a possessive, almost unhinged look on his face.

“You’re really doing this now?” he growls.

“Yes, what about it?” Dylan replies.

Felix’s nostrils flare. “She’s wet.”

“Not just from the rain,” Dylan retorts with a smirk.

He grips Dylan’s door so harshly I can almost hear it break. “Get off her. Now.”

I can practically see the fumes coming from Felix’s mouth when he talks, and my God, it actually makes my heart thump in my throat.

“You really know how to sour a mood,” Dylan says, sighing out loud as he rolls off me.

I sit up straight and adjust my hair, pretending nothing was going on, because I get the feeling he’s not just mad at Dylan.

Felix suddenly lunges at me and grabs my wrist, hauling me with him.

“Hold up, what are you doing with her?” Dylan says.

“Just because she’s cold doesn’t mean you can burn her,” Felix says through gritted teeth.

He drags me through the hallway all the way to his room, where he kicks open the door and pulls me inside, slamming it shut behind him before locking it.

One hand slams into the wood beside my face. “Do not push me, Pen.”

I frown. “I didn’t—”

“If you ever let him touch you like that again …”

“Like what?” My eyes narrow. “Like he could actually be more than just someone who uses me for my body?”

The muscles in his arms tighten as though it takes everything in him to hold back. “You belong to me.”

I hold my breath as he closes in on me, his free hand traveling up my body without touching me. I can still feel the electrical current between us, and I know he can feel it too.

“I’m only willing to share if I’m there to watch.”

My eyes narrow. “You’re jealous?”

His eyes darken as he clenches his jaw. “Don’t mistake my possessiveness for jealousy. I allow them to play with you.”

I snort. “But only when it pleases you.”

He pounds his fist into the wood, making me jolt.

But then he grabs my face and smashes his lips on mine.

It’s not a sweet or gentle kiss, but an unholy one, full of unspoken desires. An all-consuming kiss that makes my toes curl and my knees buckle.

When he pulls back, my lips still yearn for more.

He looks into my eyes for a moment, but it feels as though it lasts an eternity.

His hands still linger on my face, the look in his eyes mesmerizing to the point that I feel like I can’t breathe when he looks at me.

“You’ve unlocked something inside me I thought I killed off.”

I don’t know if that’s a compliment or a threat.

“No matter what I do, what I say, who I fucking play with … everything reminds me of you.”

Who he plays with? What is he talking about?

Or does he mean that girl at the club?

I swallow away the lump in my throat.

“Enough with your games,” he says, and he pulls away, only to grasp my hand and drag me along with him. “Time for a shower.”

“What? But we just came out of the pouring rain,” I splutter.

Too late. He’s already turned on the faucet, and the water splashes down right on top of me and onto my dress. My eyes instinctively close with the rush of the water.

Great, now I’m wet again.

“Let’s get this off.”

My eyes burst open. He’s right in front of me, underneath the same water, with his expensive black long-sleeve shirt and pants still on. A knife in his hands glitters in the bathroom light.

He cuts through the fabric around my shoulders, then peels away the off-the-shoulder dress, slowly pulling down the fabric until he’s exposed my breasts.

RIP!

He cuts through the rest in a way that’s almost too meticulous. Like he’s thought about how to do it. Studied it.

His Adam’s apple bobs, and I don’t know why I focus on it, but I do. And when he slowly sinks to his knees to take off the rest, leaving me bare, my entire body erupts into goose bumps.

He pulls off my heels and chucks them aside like they’re only in his way.

But he won’t let go of my foot.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Penelope,” he mutters.

He leans in, planting a kiss on my foot.

“A game that has no winners.”

His eyes bore into mine as he drags his lips up to my knees, and I hold my breath in anticipation, my pussy throbbing with excitement again.

God, it’s only been an hour since we last fucked around in the cemetery, yet I already feel like I could go again.

Is this what my sister felt when she was with them? Is this what they did to her? Why she felt like she couldn’t escape?

Their greed is suffocating.

And they make me want to offer the leftover oxygen in my lungs for free.

“If Dylan got you so riled up already, then I will be the one to take care of it. I can’t have you falling for them,” he says.

Falling for them?

Does he mean Dylan and Ali?

The knife is pushed into my calf, right above where he’s kissing me. “So if you won’t play by my rules, then let’s play by yours.”

I can’t even reply because his tongue is everywhere, stilting my breath.

“We made a deal, you and I,” he mutters, kissing his way up my thighs while dragging the knife up with him. And I’m equal parts terrified and aroused. “So tell me what you need me to do.”

When his tongue swipes my slit, I moan out loud.

The cold blade pushing up against my inner thigh silences me. And he pauses his kisses and looks up, knife digging into my skin. “Tell. Me.”

“Find my sister’s bullies,” I murmur as I gaze down.

Right then, his tongue dips out to lick me again, and I almost lose my balance. I steady myself against the walls while the water clashes down on me.

“What else?” he says, lapping me up.

“Punish them,” I say.

His tongue is relentless.

His voice is dark, commanding, “Be specific.”

“Hurt them,” I say.

His mouth covers my most sensitive parts, circling me like he’s intent on making me come again, and I don’t think I’ll be able to stop it, even if I wanted to.

“How?” he asks.

“What?” I mutter.

And he actually pulls back, leaving me bereft. “If you won’t give me everything you have, I won’t give you mine.”

God, my clit thumps just from the fact that his tongue hovers so close, and I hate him for edging me like this. God, I hate it, and I love it so much.

“Cut out their tongues,” I murmur.

And he immediately goes to town on me to the point that I struggle to even let out a moan.

“More,” he groans.

“Slice off their fingers,” I say.

“Yes,” he says, rolling his tongue around until my legs begin to quake.

“Rip out their eyes.”

Suddenly, he thrusts the handle of the knife into me, and I gasp, only for it to turn into a moan as he starts fucking me with it while his tongue continues to roll around. The sharp end of the blade must be cutting into his skin, but he doesn’t seem to have a care in the world over pain.

A mixture of rage and animalistic lust floods my body as he continues licking me, and I can barely keep it together.

“Now finish it,” he growls.

“Kill them,” I whisper.

And his tongue dives into me so deep along with the knife I mewl with delight. “Fuck, I’m coming, Felix!”

“Yes, finish all over my mouth,” he groans, lapping me up like he can taste the revenge on my wetness.

My hands on the wall can barely hold me up. He rises to his feet and catches me just before I fall, planting me against the wall, before his lips crash into mine again.

The knife tumbles out of me and clatters onto the tile floor, but I don’t give a damn.

All I want is more of these kisses, more of his touch, more of everything so depraved I would sell my soul to receive just a crumb.

“I will bring them hell for you.”

His voice is dark, heady, and so mesmerizing that I’m becoming obsessed.

God, now I understand what they did to her.

I tear off Felix’s clothes and throw them to the side, pants and shirt and everything between him and me. But when our lips momentarily unlatch, I gaze at all the intricate tattoos on his body, at the Skull & Serpent tattoo he wears too, just like Dylan and probably Ali too, and many more. Because what was hiding underneath those high-buttoned shirts and thick black hoodies was a neck tattoo of a phoenix going from his chin all the way down to his chest.

Along with a Medusa right underneath.

A tattoo people usually only get when … they’ve been assaulted.

Fuck.

I suck in a breath as I touch it, but he flinches when I do. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Is this …? Were you …?” I mutter.

“It was a long time ago,” he says, clenching his jaw.

So it’s real? That really happened to him?

Wow.

Out of all people, he was the last I would guess to ever be … a victim.

There are many more layers to this man than I originally thought.

A tortured soul hell-bent on giving the world exactly what it gave him.

Desolation.

His hand grips mine. “Don’t pity me.”

“I wasn’t—”

“I know what I see,” he says, his nostrils flaring. “I’ve looked at you long enough to recognize every fucking emotion on your face.”

I gulp.

Was he always that obsessed?

Or did I just never notice because I was too busy to make him the object of my hatred?

“I’m sorry, it’s just …”

“You don’t expect it with someone like me.”

I nod. I always thought he was impenetrable, hard as steel, cold to the bone.

But maybe he wasn’t always that way.

Someone made him that way.

“Life is cruel,” he replies. “I learned that lesson at a very young age.” He swallows. “And if people take something from you that’s precious … you annihilate them.”

He turns off the shower, but I’m far from finished with showering. Or from cooling down.

With a hard-on, he marches out of the shower only to return with dark-red towels. “Catch.”

He throws me one that barely covers my body, but I make do and dry myself off. He returns with one of his shirts when I’m about to wrap it around my body. “I don’t have women’s clothes, so this will have to do.”

It’s one of his.

I put it on, and it’s oversized for me but just big enough to cover my butt. But the smell … it reminds me of him.

A blush spreads on my cheeks.

When he walks off, I follow him back to his bedroom, wondering why we aren’t finishing him too.

But I’m far too busy gaping at his room, which is so different from Dylan’s. I’ve been here before, but it still doesn’t fail to mesmerize me. And now that I’m not being chased, I can finally have a real look around.

It’s dark and gloomy, covered in skulls, but the place is gigantic, with two big window panes in the back where a lofty bed stands. Across the room are several tables filled with half-filled liquor bottles and empty glasses—a testament to someone drowning in their agony.

I rub my lips together and walk through the room. Plenty of expensive-looking leather seats are scattered throughout, along with a bench and something that looks like a cross with straps on it. Every piece of furniture has a skull pattern on it. Exactly what I’d expect from someone who loves death.

I gulp.

In the back, near the window, is a wooden table with a small enclosure on top.

The creature inside it draws me in.

It’s a snake.

And it’s eating a dead rat.

“Nessie.”

I almost jump up and down from the scare.

He’s right behind me, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

“Our pet snake,” he adds.

I frown and smile at the same time. “A pet?”

“Snakes can be pets,” he responds.

“No, I mean, you have a pet?” I snort.

His eyes narrow. “Is that so hard to believe?”

I shrug, still smiling because he’s right. It is kind of hard to believe from a frigid man like him. Though I suppose this kind of pet suits him perfectly, especially with that tattoo.

“Actually, no,” I reply.

My finger dips into the cage to touch her body, which feels strange.

“Do you want to hold her?” He lifts her out before I can even reply, then places her on my neck. “She won’t bite.”

“Gee, that’s a comforting thought,” I mutter, feeling her slither across.

He tilts his head and watches me for a moment. “You’re not scared.”

“No … should I be?”

A smile gently tugs at his lips. “Maybe you aren’t exactly the same as Eve.”

I make a face. “She was scared of snakes?”

I didn’t even know that. How did I not know?

He pulls Nessie off my shoulders again and places her back in the cage. “Maybe she didn’t tell you everything about her.”

I lower my eyes and sigh. “I wish she would’ve confided in me. Maybe then I wouldn’t have had to go through all this trouble.”

With a single finger, he lifts my chin and forces me to look at him. “Maybe there was a reason she didn’t. She was trying to protect you.”

“From what?”

I shudder in place.

“Us.”

Too late.