Page 49 of Evil Boys

I immediately go for the attack, and I punch him in the face, but he catches my hand with ease.

“Now, that’s not very nice of you.”

I try to punch him again from the side, but he dodges that too expertly, along with all my other swings. It’s almost as if he can see every one of my attacks coming before it lands.

Who the fuck is this guy?

“That’s not gonna work,” he says.

“How the fuck did you find me here?” I growl back, and I kick him in the nuts.

He groans in pain but swiftly recuperates and knocks me to the ground with a swift body grab and slam. The air is knocked out of my lungs.

“I already saw you the second you tried to make a beeline for this tree,” he says. “Lana.”

My eyes widen.

How does he know my name?

I slam my arm into his neck, making him choke, and I spin him around until I’m right on top of him.

“You have some moves,” he muses. “I’m impressed.”

“I’ll give you something to be impressed about,” I growl back, and I punch him in the gut so hard he groans out loud. But the groan is immediately followed by a smile. “Fuck. That almost hit the spot.”

My brows furrow, confused as to why he’d say that, but then he suddenly wraps his legs around my body and flips me over with ease as though he’s done this plenty of times before. And now I’ve lost the upper hand.

“My friends will be here any second now,” he says. “And I can’t wait to show them the kitty I caught.”

“Over my dead body.” I lean in and bite his arm until it bleeds.

He yelps and retracts his arm far enough for me to slip out underneath him. My hands curl around the mask around his face, and I rip it up as I crawl to my feet.

I kick him and stomp on his chest with my sharp heels, staring down at the face of one of the three men who have haunted my life ever since I came in contact with them.

I know this dude.

He’s one of the Phantom Society guys.

The scrawny one with the lanky frame, the long hands, an upside-down cross dangling from his ear, short curtain red hair, obviously dyed. And that wretched grin is still on his face.

Yeah, it’s definitely one of them.

Didn’t Brooke say his name was … Milo?

I grasp his collar and make him look at me. “Did you follow me?”

His hands lock around my ankle. “No. Did you?”

I flick my knife out of my pocket and hold it over his throat.

My nostrils flare. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave my name out of your fucking mouth, and you won’t show your face to me again. Got it?”

He practically melts underneath my hand. “Oh …”

I don’t know what’s wrong with this dude, so I quickly release him from my grip, pouncing onto his chest once more for good measure. But it only makes him groan with a slight hint of arousal.

What the fu—

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