Page 63 of The Hallows Boys

Kaiden swings his fist before Beckham finishes his sentence, knocking his head to the side. Becks grunts, slowly lifting his head as he licks at the trail of blood that’s now dripping from the corner of his mouth. The twisted part of me starts to swell in my pants at him licking his blood, so I adjust my stance a little, spreading my legs.

“Again.” Becks laughs, and Kaiden grins at him before swinging again, sending Beckham’s head flying to the side.

“Okay,” I say, stepping in front of Becks. “Enough.”

I look between them, and they’re both smiling wide like maniacs. Beckham looks especially manic, his teeth covered with blood as his mouth pulls into a big ass grin.

Beckham reaches out to touch my arm. “It’s okay, Vin. If he needs to get it out of his system so we can move the fuck on, then let him.”

I sigh, looking back at Kaiden in time to see him walk backwards until his legs hit the couch and he sits back down.

“I feel better,” Kai says, grabbing his beer and chugging the rest.

Beckham laughs as he sits, but I heave a sigh of relief when I drop down next to him, scanning his face and reaching out to wipe some of the blood from the corner of his mouth. He waves me off. “I’m fine.”

“Becks,” Kai says, pulling our attention. “I didn’t tell you to stay away from her for shits and gigs, I said it to protect us. Who knows what she’s going to do now. We need to be careful and keep the circle fucking closed.”

Beckham clicks his tongue. “I didn’t give her the fucking Krabby Patty secret formula, Kaiden, I just fucked her. I would never do anything to risk an avalanche of shit to crumble down around any of us. You should know that.”

I watch as Kaiden thinks over Beckham’s words, humming between his lips for a moment before he runs a hand down his face. “Just stay away from her until we have more information, B.”

Becks nods, accepting Kaiden’s words, and I look between my friends and shake my head.

Standing up, I brush my hands down my pants. “Are we done? I wanna crash.”

Kai waves a hand in the air toward the door, dismissing me. I roll my eyes in frustration, turning to leave. “This could have been done in a fucking text message.”

* * *

When I get home, my father is piss drunk and throwing shit around the kitchen. I slide through the hallway without a sound, determined to get through the house without alerting him of my presence.

Even though I took a shower at school, I still feel gross, so I slip into the bathroom and turn the shower on. The water takes a minute to heat, so I stand in front of the mirror once I’ve stripped out of my clothes and watch my cock inflate before my eyes.

I’m fucking jealous of Becks. I’m jealous he got to touch her and play with her again, and I’m insanely fucking envious I wasn’t there with him.

Running a hand down my shaft, I try to relieve some of the pressure. As I take a deep breath, I will my cock to deflate and step into the shower.

I get through washing my hair and lathering myself with body wash, and then there’s a banging on the bathroom door.

“Vincent!”My father’s voice radiates through the wooden door, making me sigh. I finish rinsing all the soap from my body, turn the water off, and step out.

Once I’ve wrapped a towel around my waist, I pull the door open to find my dad leaning against the door frame, bottle in hand. “What?”

“Where have you been?” he slurs, attempting to stand up straight.

I run a hand through my dripping hair and sigh. “I was at practice, Dad.”

“Don’t give me attitude, you little fuck. I’ll lay you out right here.” He sneers, stepping toward me, the bottle in one hand and a fist made in the other.

I take a step back on instinct, like I’m still a scared, ten-year-old boy who can’t defend himself. I swallow, trying to keep my voice even. “I’m sorry, Dad. Did you need something?”

“I’ll tell you what I fucking need, Vincent.” He takes another step. “I need you to stop being a disrespectful shit,that’swhat I fucking need.”

I nod, pressing my lips together as I fold myself forward a little. “I know, Dad.”

He scoffs, his voice slurring as he spits his next words. “You’re pathetic. A disgusting, pathetic fuckingloser.”

I take the words like bullets. They penetrate through my surface and wound me, even though I’ve heard them a million times by now. Part of me still just wants to be good enough for my father, whereas the other part knows I’ve done nothing to deserve being his punching bag.

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