Page 60 of Sick Boys


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Penelope

I hide away in my room for the next couple of days, only coming out for the bare minimum of classes I need to attend before I get kicked out of school.

Nothing in this world is worse than having to go out there and possibly run into one of them.

Those three boys of the Skull & Serpent Society are even more fucked up than I thought.

But what’s even worse is the fact that I wasn’t even scared of what they did. I wasn’t scared when I saw Nathan tied up to a chair like a goddamn victim. I wasn’t scared when Felix hammered him to the point of breaking his legs. And even the goddamn finger he held up in front of my face wasn’t enough to scare me away.

There was only a single thing I feared at that moment … My own exhilaration.

The power.

The way Felix literally asked me, me out of all people, if he should stop.

Every time I close my eyes, I can see him in my mind, slamming that hammer into Nathan’s knees, cutting off that finger, blood dripping down his fingers and onto my skin as he looks at me and tells me he would’ve killed him for me.

My fingers instinctively reach for my skin, erupting into tingles. I’ve already washed off the blood, but I can still feel the stain on my body, growing and growing until there’s no point in denying the fact that I’m slowly falling into the trap they so easily laid out for me.

Because God, when he kissed me, I swear it felt like the world stood still.

Why?

Why did he do that?

And why do I even care?

I sigh and lie down in bed. It’s past midnight, and Kayla’s fast asleep. Staying awake now would only hamper my ability to study.

So I close my eyes and force myself to stop thinking about it.

I can’t do anything cooped up in here anyway.

Suddenly, something creaks in the corner of the room, and my eyes burst open.

The window is open, but I can’t remember if I opened it.

I crawl out of bed, shivering from the cold draft that enters, and I quickly shut it tight.

But when I turn around to walk back to my bed, I stop in my tracks like a train driver smashing the emergency button.

Because a figure in a dark hoodie hovers over Kayla.

I run to my cabinet to grab my bag and fish out my knife, but as I point it at him, he lifts his head and plants his finger on his lips. “Shh …”

My eyes widen, and I mutter, “Alistair?”

He approaches me, and I shiver again as his frame towers over me. In the dark, he’s quite intimidating, especially because he can apparently sneak into my room without me even noticing.

He reaches for the knife, but I refuse to let go as his hand snakes around my wrist tighter and tighter. I try to aim for his chest, but the closer I get, the more he pulls until I bump into him.

He slowly turns my wrist sideways until I have no choice but to let go.

“What were you doing to her?” I say through gritted teeth.

He leans in and whispers, “Checking if she was asleep.” His grip tightens around the small of my back as he pulls me into his embrace. “Sit down.”

I frown, confused. “Why?”

But before I can even say anything else, he’s already pushed me down onto the bed.

His curly hair blocks his eyes, but I can still feel his stare bore into me from underneath that black hoodie.

“Do you do this often?”

He tilts his head. “Only when I want to.”

I suck in a breath. “How many times have you been inside this room?”

“Countless.”

A shiver runs up and down my spine.

“When I was asleep?”

He nods.

I should be terrified. Scared out of my mind.

Instead, I’m intrigued.

I thought he didn’t like me, and that he only agreed with Felix’s scheme so he could get some free ass, but maybe he’s been hiding his true intentions. I wouldn’t put it past a guy like him.

He’s the kind of guy who lurks in the background, always waiting for the right time to take what he wants.

And that time is apparently now.

“If you want to talk, can’t we do this during the day? It’s the middle of the night. I need sleep.”

His neck muscle flexes. “The night is more private.”

Private? Oh boy.

“What do you want?” I ask, swallowing.

“I want …” His hand rises to meet my face, the tip of his index finger barely grazing my cheek, but his touch still leaves tingles on my skin. “I want to apologize.”

My jaw slowly drops.

Am I dreaming, or is this real?

“For those posters.” His fingers slowly crawl across my skin as though he’s admiring every inch of it just by touch. “They hurt you, didn’t they?”

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