Page 107 of Evil Boys

“Fuck …”

The apple rolls across the ground in front of me, and I kick it away. “Serves you right,” I retort, folding my arms.

“God, that felt good.”

I frown.

What is up with him?

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe. Do you like insane guys?” he muses as he scrambles up from the ground, patting himself down. “Because if so, I’m as crazy as they come.”

I roll my eyes and waltz right past him. “Whatever.”

“Hey, wait up!” he yells.

“No, thanks,” I reply, keeping my head held high while I continue to strut.

But he keeps following me around, to the point that it gets me so fucking pissed I punch him in the face again when he’s right behind me.

He groans, but it swiftly turns into a high-pitched moan as he clutches his bloodied nose.

“You made me bleed.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t keep following me around then,” I retort. I fish my small knife from my pocket and point it at his stomach real close-up so no one can see. “I can make you bleed a whole lot more right now if you don’t walk away.”

“Oohh …” He practically giggles and presses his body farther into the blade. “Don’t tempt me, please.”

My brows furrow, and I just stare at him, utterly confused by his reactions to my violent nature. He should be scared, mad, angry, hell, maybe even upset, yet he’s the opposite.

I push the knife farther into his stomach and watch him hold his breath.

“For you, I’ll happily bleed,” he murmurs.

“Is that your way of apologizing for what you and your fucked-up buddies did?”

“I’m not sorry,” he says. “But I am sorry you hated it when I loved it … so fucking much.”

“You’re sick,” I hiss.

“I’m not the only one.”

The sparkle in his eyes makes it hard to look away.

What does he mean with that?

“Are you insinuating—”

When I attempt to punch him again, he catches my fist midair, and a wicked smile forms on his lips. “Yes. You like to cause pain.”

I gasp, too flabbergasted to speak. In a rush, he suddenly pushes me all the way to the wall of the school building, pinning me to it.

“Don’t act so surprised. You already knew how sadistic you were. You just never thought others would find out.”

“No, I’m not. I don’t like—”

“Not the mental pain.” He grabs my hand and puts it against his reddened cheek. “Physical pain.”

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