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“I’m popping her cherry,” I announce, “you got her mouth first, so I get to fuck her cunt first.” Maybe that’s the better deal anyway. I’ll get to make her bleed, feel her slick heat squeeze around me, be the first man to give her an orgasm with a cock.
“Fine, I’ll get her ass then,” Cam grins. Fuck, I want that too.
“I guess,” I reluctantly agree because I know I can’t have both even though I want both. I’m a greedy fucker when it comes to this girl. I look for her as we sit in the cafeteria, our trays of food sitting in front of us remain untouched. Though the food here is pretty good, I don’t often eat it. I usually come into the cafeteria to socialize and pick up girls, but as of recently, to keep an eye on Stella.
“Hey, dude,” Parker Rothschild king of Blackthorn greets as he takes a seat in front of us, his girlfriend, Willow in tow. Though he’s more Warren’s friend then ours, we’ve all grown a little closer over the last couple of months.
“Hey,” Cam replies, while I just give him a head nod.
“What’s up?” Parker questions. Willow gives both Cam and I a soft smile as she takes the seat next to him. Sometimes I wonder how an asshole like Parker got a pretty, sweet girl like her. They seem like complete opposites in every way.
“Nothing, what’s up with you?” I counter, reaching for my soda, the only thing I’ve opened on my tray.
Warren takes that moment to walk up and slap my shoulder, almost knocking the soda out of my hand. “Watch it, asshole.”
“Well, hello to you too,” Warren says, all cheerful as he sits down. Warren, Parker, and Willow break into small talk while Cam and I sit in silence, both watching the kitchen door for any movement.
A few moments later, Harper, Warren’s girlfriend, joins the table.
“Hey, babe,” he greets her. We all look up and find Harper, who looks to be anything but happy standing beside the table. Matter of fact, she looks like she’s in shock as she sits down next to him. “What’s going on? Why do you look like you’re going to be sick?” he asks, concern etched into his features. Warren doesn’t care about anyone, but if I had to guess, I would say he cares about Harper, even if he denies it.
“Did you do it?” she asks.
Warren’s face morphs into confusion, “What are you talking about?”
She points to the nearest flyer, and I immediately know what she is talking about. James.
“I don’t know what that’s about. Parker took care of him.” Warren looks over to Parker, giving him a hard stare.
“If this is about James going missing, I don’t know what the hell happened. I waited until he woke up, and then I told him to go home. He was disoriented and could barely walk but he got up and started walking away.” He is only half lying. Yes, James was still alive when Parker left. But he also called us to make sure James got home and kept his mouth shut, which didn’t end the way it was supposed to.
“You think you can just rape Warren’s girl? Harassing her? Drug her?” Cam punches James in the stomach, and he doubles over. A gargled response passes his lips, but neither of us care about his answer.
Cam’s dad has been looking for a reason to jail this fucker forever. Today’s his lucky day, I guess. I watch as he tetters on his feet like a skyscraper that’s ready to topple over.
“It’s time someone taught you a lesson,” I growl and flex my hand, opening and closing it before forming a perfect fist. He continues to stumble away from us, but we’ve already smelt his blood, and like lions cornering a wounded animal, we won’t stop until we’ve had our share.
Pulling my hand back, I punch the bastard in the face one last time. He sways unsteadily, and as if time slows down, I watch him fall backward. My eyes move to the large metal dumpster that he’s headed toward, and before I can make a move to stop him, the side of his head cracks against the edge of it.
I know without question, there is no coming back from that. His entire body slumps to the ground, the essence of life leaving his body. I look to Cam, who is just staring at James’s unmoving body. Deep down, I know I should feel something, but I don’t. I don’t feel anything for him, not remorse, not anger, or even fear.
“Are you sure?” Harper whispers so only our table can hear. Her soft voice drags me out of the memory from that night.
Parker leans across the table, “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Well, forgive me if I jump to conclusions,” she rolls her eyes at him.
