Page 7 of Knox

“Okay, then. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Knox. I’m sure there’ll be nothing for you to worry about.”

“Yeah, okay.” I lift my head to look at him, and honestly, he doesn’t look too bad. Still, I can’t imagine getting anywhere in the classes, too much has happened since I last sat in a classroom.

When Drake finds out that I will actually be in his classes to begin with, he’s way too happy about it. Doesn’t he realise I’ll probably scare most of the kids there just by looking at them. I mastered the art of looking mean a long time ago—it comes from being treated like shit for so long. You have to not give a fuck what anybody thinks of you.

“Don’t get your hopes up, mate. I’m not a nice person,” I tell him when he enthuses about the friends he’s made.

“Sure, you are; you haven’t met the right people yet. Just because life has treated us badly doesn’t mean we have to let it define us. Right, Saint?”

Saint looks at me and grins. “Just don’t tell the teachers to fuck off and you’ll do fine.”

Here I am walking into a classroom with Drake. The first class is maths, so I get ready to pay no attention and look around at the other kids. Two girls are staring at me, and I raise one eyebrow at them. “What’re you looking at?” I spit at them, making them scuttle off with red faces.

“Knock it off, Knox. You’re new, so you’re bound to be looked at. I was, too, so I decided to be nice to people, to trust that they weren’t going to be dicks to me.”

“Yeah, right. That’s the difference between me and you. I don’t trust any-fucking-one.”

Drake sighs and faces the front of the class as the lesson starts. My decision to ignore everything around disappears when I find out that I can do what he is talking about. I actually understand what is being said. Not that I’m going to put my hand up or offer any answers. Nope, that isn’t gonna happen at all.

I get used to all of it quickly; the daily routine of school doesn’t get any more enjoyable just because I don’t suck at all of the lessons. One thing I know: I am never going to speak another language since it isn’t a subject I am going to get the hang of. Not like Drake since he is brilliant at them. All I really want to do is get through the day so I can get to the gym. Kip’s teaching me the correct way to work out, what machines do what, and how to use the free weights. I can already feel the difference in my muscles, and hopefully, with all the meals I’m getting now, I will start looking better too.

It’s only a year later that the bottom falls out of my life.

The news is on in the background. I’m sitting with Saint and Drake, doing my homework, when the newsreader says something that catches my attention.

“There’s been another fatal stabbing. The victim, allegedly a drug runner for the Ten Down gang was chased down into an underpass by two men, who witnesses are saying are from the rival Saints District gang. The victim has been named as Dean Mitchell, aged eighteen. He is the tenth victim of knife crime this year. The police are calling for anyone with any information to come forward.”

I push back from the table, my chair falling back and crashing to the floor. I’m sure my name is being said, but all I can hear is the blood rushing through me as my heart beats too fast.

All I can hear are his final words. “No. I don’t. I don’t want you. Not anymore.”

Bound is heaving tonight. Everyone seems to be in the same mood I am and that’s horny. I’m sat in the corner booth me and my brothers always seem to take. It gives us a great view of the floor. I’m alone though, but the sight of my oldest brother, Saint, fucking his boy’s arse while their friend Jackson fucks his throat explains the whereabouts of two members of my family.

But I’m not one to turn down an opportunity. I step up to the table where Noah is on his hands and knees and give his high, round rump a heavy swat. “I think you can put more effort than that into it, boy.”

Noah loves humiliation and groans loudly, then rocks back and forth, taking both cocks deeper.

I continue moving through the crowded room, heading towards the demonstration areas, halting when I see another of my brothers—Drake. Only this brother is a sub, the only one us four brothers who is. He likes the exhibitionism, but he’s not into the same humiliation as Noah. He’s on his back on a bench. Naked except for the hot wax his Dom, Finn, is pouring over his abs and groin. Drake moans, his abdominal muscles clenching under the intense burn.

“Colour?” Finn asks Drake quietly.

“Yellow, Sir.”

“Good boy. You look beautiful covered in all the different colours.” Finn’s voice is louder now. He’s letting the watchers know that the scene is nearly over. “I think you deserve a prize.”

Finn takes Drake’s dick in his fist and pumps rapidly. I don’t need to see my brother come and walk away. It doesn’t take long before I hear his cries as his orgasm takes over.

I circle back to my booth, smiling when I see Royal and Memphis have made it and are sitting with Saint and his completely blissed out boy cuddled to him on his knee. “Thanks for your contribution, Knox.” Saint laughs and holds Noah tightly to his chest.

“Anytime,” I chuckle and sit down again. I glance back across the room and spy someone I like. When I catch his eye, his smile matches mine. I watch as he makes his way to me, his hips swaying provocatively as he sashays over. My dick gives a kick inside my black trousers; I grasp it and tug, making it harden even more. By the time Roman reaches me, I’m more than ready for him. “Kneel.”

Roman drops fluidly to his knees, bowing his head, but only enough for him to look through his thick black eyelashes at me. “Good evening, Sir.” His voice is husky, sensual, and highly erotic. How do subs learn to be so seductive?

“Take out my cock,” I order, shifting my hips so it’s easier for him to gain access. I keep my eyes on him as he deftly undoes the belt and button. The zip glides down easily, my dick springing free like a fucking jack-in-the-box. Roman catches it before it hits him the face.

He sits still, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip, slicking the rose-pink flesh, waiting for his next order.

“Suck, no hands.”