Page 64 of That Pucking New Girl

“I was about to toss her into a pile of leaves.” Alastair chuckles. “I think you’re the safer one of the three of us, Draven.”

My lips twitch in amusement because that’s not saying much. My nostrils flair being this close to Noor. All I can smell is her pussy and the scent of her body lotion. It’s a warm vanilla, and you’d think I’d be grossed out by it, but it just enhances how good she smells.

My fingers ghost over her inner thigh, stilling as I feel the scars there. It makes me remember what Mrs. Denton said about the medication she’s on. Her backpack falls off her body as she writhes to get free and Ciaran huffs in annoyance as he picks it up.

“Mental health is such a slippery slope, don’t you think?” I say absently. I wink at Alastair who raises his brow in question. “All it takes sometimes is one little thing for a person to tumble into the abyss of darkness. I bet no one would be surprised if the outcast and little cutter decided to end it all.”

“Hmm,” Alastair murmurs, putting the pieces together as he watches me stroke her inner thighs.

Noor freezes as I reveal her secrets, while Ciaran steers us closer toward the cliff.

“I did tell you to keep your mouth shut, didn’t I, Nope?” he asks. “Are you going to tell me what you told your foster family or should I plan out ways to fuck with them?”

“I bet the guy I saw at school with Moo has been to jail,” Alastair says. “He was way too comfortable with a gun.”

“Maybe we should drop some child pornography on his devices,” Ciaran says nonchalantly. “Aren’t child services still involved with poor little Nope?”

Noor tries to reach for a weapon, but Alastair pulls his own necktie off to bind her wrists. Then, he loops it around her thigh and ties it off so she won’t be able to move.

“Yeah, child protective services will be all up in Moo’s business until she turns eighteen I’d bet,” Alastair muses.

We’ve done our due diligence to learn what we can about Noor. Some things click faster than others do as we find out the things that a computer doesn’t know. Noor’s previous therapists either haven’t had their notes online or their firewalls will scream bloody murder if Ciaran gets too close.

We can’t risk it when Noor’s body has some of the answers we’re looking for.

“Have you ever slept on the streets, Nope?” Ciaran asks.

Unfortunately, I have. My mom was evicted once from our apartment through no fault of her own when I was twelve. It only lasted four days until she could find another place, but the question brings up a lot of shitty memories. A twitch is the only sign that the question bothers me, but I hide it by moving ahead of my best friends.

“I bet she’s slept in a dumpster before,” Alastair adds.

Her state records don’t indicate that, but there are too many instances of neglect, sexual assault, and broken bones while she was in the care of others.

“That explains the lingering smell,” I say half-heartedly. “This view will never get old. Look how gorgeous it is, Twinkles.”

Noor is wearing her dark hair down today, which means that it’s all in her face and she can’t see.

Ciaran rolls his eyes, pulling the knife from her holster.

“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t, Nope,” he chuckles darkly. “Let’s fix your inability to see, huh?”

It only takes seconds, and then her dark hair is raining down in chunks around her as she screams.

“Guess you can see now,” I say, turning so she can see the drop. “It really wouldn’t take much to fumble my grip, Twinkles. You’re making things very difficult.”

“Mrs. Denton needs to chill out. She’s trying to get the principal to enact an anti-bullying policy. Everyone knows that getting the snot kicked out of you builds character,” Alastair laughs.

“Oh wait, that already happened to you,” Ciaran says. “I want you to scream yourself awake at night with nightmares of what we could do to you. If I were you…”

“I’d kiss our shoes and beg for mercy,” I end. “Be our pretty little whore, suck our cocks on demand, and bend over for us to come on your cunt and your ass. Death is too easy for you.”

My hands release her and Ciaran easily breaks her fall by flipping her so that she hits the ground on her back and not her head. Turning, I smirk down at her. Noor’s eyes are huge, her chest heaving as she attempts to force air into her lungs.

“Are you going to pass out, Twinkles?” I ask. Her hair is carried off by the wind as it blows past us, and I grimace inside as I notice how jagged Ciaran cut it. Oh well, it’ll be one more thing that the girls will latch onto.

Noor shakes her head, tears streaming down her face.

“There’s a party happening on Saturday night,” I say, pursing my lips. “I suggest you be there.”