Sick Boys: Chapter 5

Did Dylan just … tell me to pray for mercy?

Fuck, Kayla and Crystal were right.

These boys are sick.

I shudder in the corner of the staircase, sweating profusely.

Every step I take, he can hear. How do I escape? I could head up or down and try to find a door. But he’ll definitely hear, and when he does, he’ll come after me.

I swallow down the nerves, trying not to make a sound as I slip closer toward the edge of the railing to see where Dylan is. But once I do, I see him looking right at me through the banister one level above mine, clutching the metal with a devious grin on his face. And he actually leans in and licks the fucking railing.

He gloats. “I see you …”

Not a second do I wait.

I bolt off, stumbling over two of the stairs as I run down.

I can hear his footsteps coming after me, rushing down the same stairs, and my heart trembles in my body from the mere sound.

Fuck, why didn’t I take better precautions when I tried to snoop in on his conversations with his father? I should have at least tried to hide better. But I was so invested in what they were saying, trying to decipher what it meant when his father talked about the mess those boys left this summer that I completely forgot I could be caught.

“Better run as fast as you can, Pen, because if I catch you, there’s going to be hell to pay!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I have to get out of here and fast.

I skid across the floor and rush down the next set of stairs with Dylan right behind me, practically jumping down the stairs.

I’m almost down, almost where the rest of the students are, where he can’t get to me without exposing himself as a terror to the rest of the campus.

I jump down the last set of stairs and bolt to the door. But the second I grasp the big handle, it opens from the other side.

And none other than Felix fucking Rivera stands in my way.

“Where are you going, Pen?”

His hazel eyes bore into mine, a hint of insanity hiding behind them. A promise of what’s to come if I don’t escape now.

My heart throbs in my chest.

I step back, but all it does is lock us both in as he walks closer, the door closing behind him.

Behind me, Dylan continues to race down the stairs.

All my exits are blocked.

What do I do?

I contemplate my options, grasping my bag to find the one pair of scissors I have with me. But Felix swiftly grabs my bag.

“Motherfucker, let go!” I yell as he rips it out of my hands.

“Fuck no,” he retorts.

Without a second thought, I storm at him, trying to punch him for stealing my shit, but I don’t get far. With one hand, he’s able to hold me back … by my head.

My fucking head.

One hand.

Fuck him.

“Fuck you!” I growl.

“So much spice for something so small and fragile,” he says, smirking like a crazy bastard. His fingers coil around my hair, and he pulls at it, lifting me by my head alone. “Easy to break.”

“Get your hands off me!” I flail around, trying to kick him, but he keeps me at bay with ease.

Dylan’s footsteps close in behind me. “There you are, little rat.”

“Rat?” I gasp. “Fuck you! I didn’t do shit.”

“No? You sure were happy to snoop in on my conversation with my father,” Dylan quips as he walks toward me from the back. My eyes turn sideways as far as possible, but I can only see half his face as Felix keeps me in place just by my hair.

“Did you follow me?” he asks.

Maybe I did, but I’m not going to tell them that.

If I did, I might not make it out of this alive.

“Answer him,” Felix growls.

“Or else what?” I quip. I look around, trying to find the cameras so someone will see me in trouble, but there are none. This must be one of the few places on campus without security. Just my luck.

“Let go of me, you asshole!” I kick and tug until my feet finally touch the floor again.

But Felix refuses to release me, his grip on my hair so tight my eyes begin to water.

“You want me to let go?” Felix raises his brow as he pulls me even closer until my back hits his firm, muscular body. He rasps into my ear, “Earn the right.”

“You were listening in on my conversations,” Dylan says. “What did you hear?”

“Nothing,” I reply.

“Yes, you did,” he says, and he steps onto my toes, pushing down until it makes me grind my teeth from the pain. “Now tell me … what did you hear?”

“Just some stuff about the summer,” I say.

“Hmm …” He nods, narrowing his eyes. “A messy summer indeed.” His fingers rise to meet my face, and he grabs a strand of my purple hair.

I bite in his direction, making him pull back.

“Nasty girl.”

“You should see how nasty I can get if you don’t let me go right now.”

Dylan laughs in my face.

Felix chucks my bag at Dylan. “Check it. See if there’s anything of use.”

Use?

For what?

Dylan rips it open, chucking all the contents on the concrete ground before throwing the bag aside. Then he goes to his knees and picks apart all of my things. A water bottle, my phone, my books and pens … and my sister’s diary.

“Sure, destroy my stuff. You just want to humiliate me, don’t you?” I growl.

“No, Pen …” Felix whispers into my ear. “If we did, we’d make you get on your knees and lick our cum off the floor.”

My eyes widen.

Holy shit.

“Give me back my stuff,” I growl.

“Come and get it,” he taunts, but when I try, Felix’s grip on my hair reminds me of the fact that I’d have to rip out my hair to get away from him.

Fuck.

What do I do?

Dylan bends over and searches through the rest of the pile that came out of my bag until he finds the one thing I had hoped they wouldn’t find.

As his smile disappears, he holds up my diary with two fingers.

The one my sister gave me.

The one filled with all the information I need to find the one who made her jump.

“What’s in here?” Dylan muses.

I can’t let them take it.

No fucking way.

Right when the pages flip to the mention of their names, I twist around, Felix’s grip tightening on my hair as I grasp the pen tucked deep in my pockets and shove it into his arm.

Felix

Yowling, I let go of the girl, immediately going for the pen lodged into my flesh.

She fucking stabbed me.

With a pen.

She storms at Dylan and snatches the diary from his hands while he’s distracted by my pain.

“You little rat, give it back!” Dylan snarls as she runs toward me.

The pain is sharp, but I ignore it as I lunge at her.

She jumps away like the little rat she is, kicking me in the balls.

I groan in pain while she opens the door and shoves it into my face, avoiding my quick grasp for her top.

Then she runs off, through the hallway, toward the mass of people, out of our reach.

But every once in a while, she still glances over her shoulder, nervously checking if we follow her.

Oh yes.

It’s game on now.

“She knifed you,” Dylan says as I rip the pen from my arm.

The wound bleeds into my shirt, but the pain doesn’t faze me anymore.

All I can do is fucking smile at the girl running away from us right this very second while I bring the pen to my lips and lick my own goddamn blood.

One of these days, I’m going to lick hers.