Page 13 of Wicked Lord

“Please. I’ve had enough. I can’t take anymore.”

Those words, barely a whisper over the crash of the sea, swirled through my mind.

“Don’t be such a pussy.” My voice held a cruel edge, reminding me so much of those assholes who made my life hell as a kid.

That night, I’d become one of them. Worse, actually.

“Suck it up, Peter.” I took a deep pull from the bottle of vodka. “You want to be like us, right?”

A hand shook me, shattering the twisted memories. “You okay, Axel?” Byron asked, his forehead creased and dark eyes drilling holes into my skull.

More brutal laughter sounded, and I realized I wasn’t just hearing voices or experiencing some fucked up waking nightmare.

This was real.

I stormed around the corner as a bunch of seniors surrounded a naked freshman, snapping their towels at him. Red blotches already speckled his flesh from their relentless taunting.

Fire spilled through my veins, mixing with the guilt I’d harbored for years. I shoved my way into the circle and jerked Vince’s towel out of his hand before he landed another hit on the kid.

“That’s enough.” My voice was even and calm, but there was no mistaking the threat coiling around every syllable.

Vince, the ringleader, scoffed. “We’re just having fun, Vanderhart. Don’t be so serious.”

“I don’t think Eric is having any fun.” I tilted my head toward the freshman who drew his shoulders in and stood sideways to make a smaller target.

“It’s tradition to hassle the freshmen.” David, a senior running back, spun his towel, preparing to snap it again. “A little hazing never hurt anyone.”

He was dead wrong.

I stepped in front of Eric, glaring daggers at the other Knights.

“You’re done. Get dressed.” My teeth bared in a sinister smile. “Unless you want me to break your bones and put you out of commission for the fall season.”

Vince blanched and backed away, raking his fingers through his damp copper hair. “Whatever, Vanderhart. I’m late to get my dick sucked anyway.”

The rest of the guys quickly dispersed, and I turned to Eric, handing over the bag of clothes one of the assholes had been holding hostage.

“Thanks,” he muttered, rubbing the bright red marks on his arms.

“They’ll lose interest soon.” A few assholes took harassing the new kids too far every year, but they usually lightened up once two-a-days kicked into high gear.

After a long, scalding shower, I dressed and left the locker room.

Summer was in full swing around the sprawling campus, the blooming flowers and trees bringing pops of color to the monochromatic gray stone buildings and wrought iron gates. The fragrant breeze coming off the sea ruffled my damp hair and forced a hot chick in front of me to slap her hands on her thighs to keep her dress from flying up.

My phone buzzed with a text, and when I checked the screen, warmth swirled in my chest.

Cordelia: Meet me outside Hearst Hall. I have an itch only you can scratch.

My dick instantly hardened, straining against my jeans at the thought of seeing my little vixen. As I searched around the back of the building, she bolted out of the shadows and jumped in my arms.

“What took you so long, Vanderhart.” She nibbled on my neck, the scent of her favorite strawberry lotion invading my senses. “I was about to start without you.”

A low growl vibrated my chest as I backed her up against the stone façade and dropped my bag. “Only if I get to watch.”

“I’ll think about it.” Cordelia unwrapped her legs and slid down my body, sucking on her bottom lip as desire smoldered in her green eyes. The wind tossed her raven and purple hair that had grown to her collarbone, brushing the straps of her pink sundress.

Why did she have to be so fucking beautiful?