“There is no watersports thing!” Tate whisper shouts. “Those were fucking private?—”
“So private you shared it with all the other Chaos losers.” I glance at the guys behind him. “Be honest, boys. You all secretly judged him as well. Or did one of you agree and wish you could suckle on Tate’s cock for some delicious piss juice?”
They both recoil in disgust, while Tate’s face gets even redder.
“You think you’re so fucking funny,” Tate growls. “But what we did to you before? We can do it again.”
My smile grows even more brittle, and I tighten my grip on my knife.
“Really? Only three of you against one of me?” I extend my arm and gesture around us. “Right here, in public?”
There are other students walking around, but none of them are paying attention to us—or if they are, they’re pretending not to.
Tate puffs up his chest. “Don’t really need much more than that.”
I take a step toward him. He and his buddies back up.
I cackle. “‘Don’t need more than that,’ but you’re still afraid to let me close. I’d threaten to cut off your balls, but it doesn’t look like you have any.”
Tate’s face gets even redder—but then he smiles and reaches into the box his buddy is holding.
“There’s plenty of balls here.” He throws something at me, so fast that I don’t have time to react.
The thing splatters against me.
Cold liquid explodes all over me.
Cold,putridliquid.
One inhale, and I know.
It’s piss.
The three guys reach into the box, and they start throwing again. I’m too shocked at first to move, and two more of the piss-filled water balloons explode against me.
“Who’s into watersports now, you cunt?” Tate mocks.
That cuts through the fog, and I snarl in rage. I pull my knife out and dash forward, but all three of them keep running, throwing water balloons at me. Their aim is fucking good for guys who are running.
I hear other people shrieking.
One of the balloons explodes against my head, and piss drenches my hair and face. I cough and close my eyes to prevent it from dripping into them.
Fuck.
I hear the guys laughing, and now that I’m not moving, I’m a sitting target for them. They keep throwing balloons at me, each one more disgusting than the last.
They keep laughing through it all too, until one of them suddenly shouts, “Shit! Get out of here.”
I squint at them, seething, while needles scrape at my insides and tell me I need to go after them and kill them, fucking kill them, nobody does this to me and gets away with it?—
“Fuck, Pandora!” Blaze’s voice cuts through.
“Oh, Blaze,” I say, and I force myself to smile. Some of the cold urine makes it past my lips. “Just in time. You’re going to have to help me bury three bodies.”
“Uh, I think I need to help you clean up,” Blaze says. He comes up in front of me and places his hands on my shoulders, never mind that my clothes are soaked in piss. “Shit. Pandora, are you?—”
“If you ask if I’m okay, I’m going to cutyourfinger off,” I snap at him. I open my eyes and glare at him. “Tate needs to die,” I say steadily. “I refuse to—” My breath catches, and I inhale another round of vile odor, “—I refuse to allow anyone to treat me like this.”
