Page 45 of Wicked Vile King
Anywhere but here, I think, as the pit swells inside of me until it feels like there's a hole bored straight through me, pulling me down and collapsing me from the inside-out like a dying star.
One of them whistles. I ignore it and walk faster, practically skipping across the floor. I turn quickly to look behind me for the loitering guards, only to find they've disappeared, the damn cowards.
"Let's have some fun," one says to the other, and for some reason, it causes both of them to laugh.
I don't want to know what they find to be so funny.
I'm jogging now, my shoesclickety-clackingwith every step. Their words follow me as I hurry away.
"I wanna fuck her first," one of them says.
"Fuck you. I'm first," the other replies.
"Fine. I want her ass."
"No," the other whines, "youalwaysget the ass."
Dread hits me head-on, and everything in me screams to get away from them.
So, I bolt, and when I glance back, running down the hall away from them toward the library, the first asshole throws a punch, catching the other asshole in the jaw and sending him to the floor, howling in pain.
I skid at the end of the hall and turn the corner, darting forward and straight into a hard, tall body. My nose crunches against a solid chest, pain bursting between my eyes.
"What the fuck?" the body grumbles as I murmur my apologies and move to hurry around them. I'm not stopping until I get back to my dorm room with the door locked and me tucked safely in my bed. When I look up though, I find Saint's blond friend, Killian, staring down at me, disgusted. All of me breaks out in goosebumps as the third member of their trio—and the final lord of the Academy—snickers at his side.
Killian cocks his head at me and asks, "Where are you running off to, little liar?"
There's a pause, and the world freezes as he grabs my arm and cinches tight. I try to pull out of his grip, but it's too strong. A dagger slices through my shoulder in protest.
"Let me go," I say quickly, glancing behind me for assholes one and two.
His eyes flare in annoyance as he pulls me even closer and spits his words. "You running from someone, little liar? Did you really think Saint's the only thing you have to worry about around here? God, you're fucking dense."
The other one, Saint's friend—Gabriel, I think—laughs and says, "Not so arrogant now, is she?"
Then he reaches forward and runs his fingers through my hair,petting mebefore assholes one and two arrive, sweaty and out of breath from around the corner. The bald one holds his nose, but it does little to stop it from bleeding down his mouth and chin to drip to his feet.
"Dean, Zane," Killian sneers, "they finally let you two out of the hole?"
"This morning," the ugliest of them replies, his face pitted with scars that this close look like burns.
"You caught pretty," the bleeding one remarks, still holding his busted nose, his words nasally before he licks his meaty lips at me.
I guess the words make sense to Killian and Gabriel because Killian nods and says, "Sure did."
"Please don't give me to them," I hiss, my eyes wide, and I don't care right now what Saint's friends are going to do to me because whatever it is, it cannot be worse than being handed over to these two. Killian looks down the line of his nose at me and stares for a long moment, his blue eyes locked on mine. He doesn't blink, staring until I'm sweating and he can probably see it in the sheen of perspiration popping up on my brow.
Finally, he looks at the assholes and says, "You don't touch this one. Got it? She's Saint's."
"Aw, fuck," one of them grumbles.
"I think you might need to repeat yourself, Kill," Gabriel says with a whistle. "I don't think these two morons are getting it."
"What about it, boys?" Killian—Kill—says. "You go deaf in the last ten seconds?"
"No," one of them manages with a pout on his sweaty face.
"Then get the fuck out of here!" Gabriel cackles, and they start away, shuffling and sweaty, the bleeding one bitching about his nose. I watch them until they disappear into an adjoining room.
