Page 24 of Vile Boys

“She won’t. Not after whatever Ares did to her. Really spooked her,” he says. “Besides, she doesn’t know it was me who left that cum.”

“What if she thinks it was him, hmm?” I ask. “Ever thought about that possibility?”

“So? He wants her scared. Job accomplished.”

I fold my arms. “I don’t think it will be that easy.”

“Why not? Threaten her. Make her keep our secret, or else. She’s seen what we’re capable of now. Might as well commit to it,” he responds. “She’s the kind of girl who wouldn’t hurt a fly. There’s no way she’d rat us out.”

“I don’t know, darling,” I muse. “Something about this feels off, and it’s not going to be pretty.”

“Whatever,” he says, shrugging it off like it’s no big deal. Then he raises his finger. “Don’t tell Ares.”

I raise my brow back.

“Promise me, Blaine,” he asks. When I don’t reply, he adds a pout. “Please.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine. But if he asks, I won’t cover for you either. I’ll just pretend I know nothing and be done with it.”

“Sounds good to me,” he says, walking off, leaving the kitchen one giant trash can. “Have to go shower now to get rid of this stainin my pants. Bye.”

“Go wash your ass, you filthy bastard,” I tell him, and he actually winks at me.

God, I need a rinse too after this conversation.

I grasp an apple from the basket and lean back against the counter, throwing the apple up and down as the pink sheen reminds me of the glossy cheeks of the girl from the maze.

I wonder if she knows what she’s up against.

If she’s prepared for what’s to come.

Maybe it’s about time I paid her a visit.

Crystal

At school,I feel antsy, clutching my bag close to my shoulder as though someone might steal it from my hands. Of course, no one would. It’s a ridiculous thought, yet … What if those boys want something from me?

I mean, Ares made it very clear he wanted me scared, and then that same night, someone came to visit me and left cum on my window.

I’m not losing it. I know it was there because I touched it.

This means someone was watching me while I was playing with myself, and I can only think of three people who would do such a thing: those Tartarus boys.

I gulp and walk past the people chatting away in the hallway, blissfully unaware that a murder has taken place on campus soil and the perpetrators visit these very same classrooms.

But right before I enter my next class, the door closes in my face.

A big, flat hand rests on the door as a figure approaches from the shadows, hair as dark as the skull shirt he’s wearing, with only the jewel on his belt buckle glinting in the dark on top of his purple pants.

I twist on my heels, but he grabs my shoulders and pulls me back, cornering me in the hallway underneath the stairs where no one ever comes.

And when I look up, there he is. A glorious man, who looksalmost seven feet tall, chiseled and sculpted like an angel fallen from heaven, flexing his muscles as he flicks his hair back.

“Blaine,” I mutter.

“Oh, how adorable, you already know my name,” he muses, his voice awfully chipper and … zesty. “So nice to make your acquaintance.”

He grasps my free hand and pulls it up to his face, pressing a gentle kiss on top, and I’m too shocked to even say a word.

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