Page 143 of Sick Boys


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Suddenly, he tears away and rips the tape off my mouth. The instant burn makes me hiss.

“Ready to fucking talk now, Pen?”

“Fuck you,” I retort.

He slams his fist against the wall behind the cross, making me flinch. “Why did you do it? We let you go, just like you asked. And then you have to go and burn down the fucking school?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” I grit.

He leans in so close I can almost smell the anger seething off his lips. “That school is our legacy, our fucking heritage. And you burned it down.”

A smile forms on my lips. “And it felt so, so good.”

The violence in his eyes reminds me of my own when I found out what happened to my sister.

“You feel better now, huh?” he growls. “After that little tantrum?”

He’s trying to egg me on, but I won’t let him.

“You don’t know what you’ve done.” His fist slams into the wall again, but I’m not scared. “I should kill you.”

“Do it then,” I rasp.

The knife almost instantly touches my neck. “Is that a fucking dare, Pen?”

“You didn’t hesitate when you let my sister die, so why stop now?” I taunt.

His nostrils flare. “You’ve got some nerve, begging for death.”

“Pen,” Alistair says, folding his arms. “This isn’t you.”

I laugh. “Not me? This is all me. All of it. You just didn’t want to see it through your rose-colored glasses.”

Dylan snorts. “Well, I am impressed, that’s for sure.”

“Thanks,” I say with a petty voice. “That means a lot, coming from the resident pyromaniac.”

His smug smile instantly dissipates. “I don’t remember you being this cold.”

“You didn’t pay attention,” I bark back.

“Jesus, put that tape back on, will you?” Dylan growls at Felix.

Felix pinches my cheeks together. “Give me one good reason not to, Pen.”

“Why would I?” I mutter through clenched teeth. “When you never once told me the fucking truth about my sister?”

“Hey, we didn’t intentionally keep anything from you.” Dylan shrugs. “We just neglected to tell.”

“You destroyed her life!” I shriek.

“It was a mutual decision,” Dylan says.

“She didn’t want to. Your father—”

“Enough.” Felix suddenly slaps the tape right back onto my mouth again. “I don’t want to listen to your lies.”

“My father what?” Dylan scoffs.

I muffle out more noises, but they all fall on deaf ears.

“She’s just trying to mess with your head,” Felix says.

He raises his brow. “If you say so.”

“She called you a pyromaniac.”

“It’s true, though,” Alistair chimes in. When we both glare at him, he adds, “What? He likes fire.”

Dylan sighs. “I do, though.” His eyes lock in on mine, and I don’t look away because I want him to know I believe it in my heart. “But pyromaniac makes it sound so … evil.”

He is evil.

All three of them are.

And they deserve hell for what they’ve done to her.

Felix toys with his knife, sliding it down my cheek, following the trail of a single sweat drop. “You’re part of that Ricci family, which means someone put you up to this. And if you won’t tell us willingly … I guess we’ll have to force it out of you, Pen.”

“If we’re gonna do this, might as well do it good,” Dylan growls, and he walks to the cabinet to pull out a candle. “Lemme work my magic.” He pushes Felix aside and lights the candle, and my eyes follow the flickering flame. “Ever been burned, little slut?”

I vigorously shake my head, desperate to avoid the fire as it licks my skin.

“Make it worth my time,” Felix growls at Dylan.

“Oh, don’t fucking worry, I’ll definitely light up the room.” A dangerous fire burns in his eyes. “With her screams.”

The candle’s wax begins to melt, and he tips it over right above my breast. When the hot wax lands on my skin, I swallow the shriek.

God, it’s so fucking hot.

Yet the moment it lands on my skin, it instantly cools and turns to a solid again.

“Fuck … do it again,” Alistair says, biting his lip as he watches Dylan play with me.

Even after everything that’s happened between us, they still want to fuck with me. Still want to possess me.

When I scream, Felix only laughs. “Scream all you want, Penelope. No one will hear.”

I struggle against the restraints and mutter some words against the tape, but of course none of it is audible.

Dylan merely smirks. “Oh, you want more? Well, all you had to do was ask.” He hovers the candle over my other breast, and my pupils dilate. “You wanted fire? Then feel the fucking burn.”

DYLAN

I drip even more onto this nipple than the other, leaving her squirming against the cross.

God, I love watching her writhe.

Nothing on this earth can satisfy me as much as this.

Call me a pyromaniac, I don’t care. The fire makes my fucking soul sing. And if I can use it to both punish and pleasure the woman I want more than anything but can’t have, then so be it.

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