Page 124 of Vile Boys

He sits up, looking at me intently, which makes me want to look away.

“If I could do something about it, I would. But my hands are bound. I can hurt Caleb, and I might be able to slap Ares, but that’s about it. I couldn’t ever kill him, though.” His hand drifts through the fountain water.

“Why?”

He snorts. “Believe it or not, Ares saved my life.”

Blaine

Ten yearsago

I sneakinto the casino and hide among the crowd, hoping to find some unwitting people too busy playing their chips to notice me. I wait until one of them strikes a pose and laughs, then snatch away a chip lying on the table.

But when I turn around, I bump headfirst into a security guard.

I drop the chip.

“Oh no …”

He grabs my collar. “What are you doing in here? Where are your parents?”

“Not … here?” I reply.

I don’t want to tell him my whole life story.

Suddenly, he drags me with him. “You’re coming with me.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again!” I yelp, but the guard ignores me and drags me all the way through the main hallway and into a remote area where a single door is blocked off by a dozen guards.

We pass through it, and he chucks me inside.

In front of me is a desk with a menacing-looking man sitting behind it. A boy my age sits in the chair in front of it with a piece of paper he was obviously reading from before the guard interrupted.

“This little dude was caught stealing chips from guests,” the guard says.

“Was he now?” the man behind the desk says, clasping his hands.

“Do you want me to punish him?” the guard asks.

I squeak. “Please, don’t.”

“No. I will do it myself,” the man replies.

The guard leaves, closing the door behind him, and the man behind the desk stands and approaches. I crawl away into a wall as he towers over me with narrowed eyes, his face reminding me of death.

“Please, it was just one chip. I just needed some cash.”

“To do what?” the man responds. “You’re too young to work at your age. You should be in school. So why are you here?”

“My parents can barely make a living wage. I’m just trying to help,” I respond.

The boy in the chair turns around and looks at me, his piercing gray eyes making this dark room feel a little lighter.

“You should know better than to steal from one of the richest men in town,” the man in front of me barks.

Suddenly, he pulls out a knife, and my eyes widen as I hide in the corner.

“Please, don’t hurt me!”

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