Page 136 of Suck
“Yeah. Listen to the fucking beastie,” brown eyes says to me.
I take a step closer, and Zane grabs my elbow. “I think you’re just jealous that even a starving Vyastil wouldn’t want to touch your tiny-ass cheese dick.”
The guy’s eyes widen, but the other one grabs him and shakes his head. They stare for another moment as though I’m going to be intimidated by some limp dick asshole with a bigotry problem. Thankfully, after a long beat, they turn and walk off.
I spin, fixing Quilliyn with a careful stare. “Are they always assholes to you?”
He shrugs. “They don’t matter.”
“Fuck that. You don’t need to take that shit,” I say.
Zane clears his throat, then adds, “Yeah. I mean, I’m not really cool with you all, but that was not okay.”
Quilliyn gives him a careful look, then smiles, his small fangs poking out. He still looks like the Vyastil asshole from Erethar, but kinder. Softer. Shit,arethey related?
“I appreciate that, but really. It’s fine. I know how people feel about us. And I don’t entirely agree with the way things have been handled.”
I heave a sigh and rub the back of my neck. The workout was great, but I’m still tense, and I’m really missing Rathyn now. “I should take off.”
“Ishewaiting for you?” Zane asks, not as tense as before, but refusing to say Rathyn’s name.
I bite my lip to hide my nerves. “He, ah…he got called away on some business. He’ll be back soon.”
I don’t know if that’s a lie, but the way Quilliyn’s eyes are on me makes me feel uneasy. His gaze slips to the bite mark on my skin, and his cheeks flush. He doesn’t say anything, so I give Zane a fist-bump and then reach over to give Quilliyn a hug. He makes a startled hum, but he hugs me back.
“Do you want me to check in on Rathyn?” he whispers.
My chest squeezes with affection. I didn’t even know he could do that, but I guess it makes sense that he can.
“No. Not yet. But I’ll let you know.”
He gives me a gentle pat and lets go, and I take one last look at Zane before heading out. I feel the silence in my head profoundly now. Rathyn is quiet, and I know if I reach out, I could probably find him, but something tells me not to.
Is it instinct or fear? I can’t tell. But I’m not willing to take any risks.
As I step out, Cielo is still nowhere to be found, so I decide to head back to The Foundry. Walking a while sounds better than a car, and I know Rathyn would be pissed about it, but it’s hard to care. I need to get out of my head for a bit.
It’s no longer raining, and the air is cool against my stress-heated skin. Getting my heart rate up again helps, but the farther away I get from the gym, the more pissed off I am about those bigoted assholes.
I also can’t stop thinking about the way Quilliyn agreed with Zane. His points of view have some merit. There really isn’t much consent involved. It’s all coercion blanketed in the greater good, and while I was interested in participating—and maybe even a little eager—a lot of people weren’t. And aren’t.
“Fuck,” I whisper to myself as I round the corner and take an alley that leads to The Foundry.
As I get closer, something prickles against the back of my neck, a sort of instinctive warning that I don’t know I’ve ever had before. I can see the entry gates as I slip down the second alley between two shops when, suddenly, I’m not alone.
A car whips up to the curb, and the two roid-heads from the gym step out.
Fuck.
I’m a mouthy asshole when I want to be, but I’m also not the biggest guy. My football days are long since over, and while I’ve spent plenty of time at the gym, I’m not muscle training the way I used to.
“Looks like this little bitch ran out of things to say,” the brown-eyed one says as he blocks off the alley entrance.
The other one presses up against his side. “Mouth’s too full of monster dick.”
“Better than what you’ve got,” I say. It was an objectively stupid thing to do, of course. And the consequences are immediate. Blue-eyes cocks a fist back and punches me so hard, I’m on the ground before I feel it.
I attempt to sit up, but just as I press my palms into the pavement, a heavy shoe connects with my ribs. All the air leaves my lungs, and I can’t scream for help.
