Page 60 of Vile Boys

“She made herself a target when she hurled her mom at your dad,” I whisper, poking at his thick length, which bobs up and down in his pants. “She deserves to be punished along with her friends.”

He glances my way, the desire in his eyes so fierce it’s hard to ignore, and it makes me want to slam my lips onto his. But I’ll let him simmer in his heat for a little longer.

“That girl …” I whisper into his ear, “We’re going to destroy her, and she’s going to beg us to do it.”

BLAINE

With my romance book in one hand and a cup of steaming hot cocoa in the other, I sit on a bench outside the Tartarus House and enjoy the evening. It’s far too noisy inside right now, and sometimes I just want a little me-time away from their crazy shit.

Besides, these novels don’t read themselves.

I flip the page and lick my lips as the guy is about to kiss the girl for the first time, only she doesn’t know it yet. I always get giddy when I get to this part. It’s one of my favorite books, and I can just read it over and over without ever getting bored.

With a stupid grin, I take a sip of my hot cocoa when I spot a blond-haired girl in a little blue dress stomping toward the cars parked out front beyond the gate with a knife in her hand.

“Oh dear …” I mutter as I place the cocoa back on the little table beside me.

She walks past each one with the knife held out in front of her until she finds the car she’s looking for. An Aston Martin. And I know just who it belongs to.

She scratches along the paint without a single care whose car she’s damaging. Or maybe that’s exactly the point. She slices through themetal and punctures the tires, then looks up at me with disdain.

I just keep drinking my cocoa, shrugging as I lift my book to hide my face behind it, even though she’s already seen me.

When she’s finally gone, I breathe a sigh of relief.

I’m so glad she didn’t come up to the gates looking to fight me. I don’t want to hurt her.

At least not in a break-your-fingers kind of way.

I shut my book and place it on the bench beside me, then pull my phone from my pocket and start the convo.

“Caleb?”

“What do you want?” he barks.

“Well, I thought you’d like to know a certain girl just slashed your tires.”

“WHAT?”

“Yeah, you might want to come downstairs,” I reply.

“Is she still there?” he growls.

“Nope. Sauntered away with that little knife of hers like it was no biggie.” I gaze at my nails, wondering if I should do a different color because black might not suit me after all. “She also kind of ruined your paint job.”

He hangs up without saying another word.

I scoff at the phone. “Rude.”

I place it on the bench beside me and pick up my book again to finish.

The door slams open. “Why the fuck didn’t you stop her?” he yells.

“I don’t know. It’s not my problem.” I shrug.

He grabs my open shirt and knocks the book out of my hand. “You let her do that to my car?”

“Get your hands off me,” I growl back. Only when I narrow my eyes does he finally do what I say. “This Gucci is far too priceless for you to tear holes into it.”

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