CHAPTER TWO

~MALAKAI~

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I sprint down the field, the cheers of my teammates grow louder. This is the first football practice of the semester, and my heart is racing with excitement.

I grasp the football tightly, but in an instant, a crushing tackle sends my body flying against the ground.

The impact causes a cry of pain to escape my mouth. I look up to see my opponent, and it is none other than Pierce.

Something about his arrogant stance pisses me off. The glint in his dark gaze tells me that he's mocking me. His lips curl into a smirk, slow and deliberate, like he's savoring the sight of me sprawled beneath him.

"Malakai, come on!" I can hear my teammates cheering.

Despite the pain and shock, my fingers instinctively tighten around the ball. There is no way I'm going to lose to him.

Lana is currently watching. If I want her to be impressed by me, I have to do more than this. I try to stand, but Pierce suddenly jumps on top of me. The force of his weight flattens me to the ground, snatching the breath out of my lungs.

I cannot move. Not even an inch. He is simply too strong. He is much bigger than me, and his bulging muscles aren't for show. His body covers mine completely, caging me against the grass like I'm nothing. Like I'm prey.

"What's a twink like you doing on the field, huh?" He sneers directly into my ear, his hot breath fanning across my skin.

He is too close. Our bodies are pressing tightly against each other, chest to back, his hips pinning mine down. The heat emanating from his body seeps into mine, and I hate how aware I am of every hard inch of him.

This position is...

Humiliating.

He can just easily collect the ball from me, but he seems to rather enjoy toying with me. His large hand grabs the back of my neck, forcing my face further into the dirt. Grass and soil fill my mouth. His fingers dig into my skin, and my body is trapped between his powerful thighs, squeezed tight like a vice.

"You enjoy being dominated like this, preacher boy?" His taunts ring in my ears. His voice is low, meant only for me. Intimate in a way that makes my skin crawl. "You're trembling. Is it fear? Or something else?"

I want to scream at him, but his weight is crushing my lungs. All I can manage is a pathetic wheeze.

If I didn't already hate him, I certainly despise him enough now.

His thigh shifts against me. Slow.

My breath catches.

And is it my imagination, or is he grinding against me?

No.

Is he excited?

Then why do I feel something hard poking against my lower back? Something thick and unmistakable pressing into me through the thin fabric of our shorts.

My face burns with humiliation. This can't be happening.

"Let go!" I spit, but my voice comes out weak, breathless. His grip only tightens, and he chuckles at my futile struggles. The sound vibrates through his chest and into my back.

"Make me," he whispers.

He's insane. He's completely fucking insane.

Is he being like this because I'm suddenly closer to Lana? Is this some kind of sick territorial display?

His hips roll against me one more time, slow and grinding, and a strangled sound escapes my throat before I can stop it. I don't even know what that sound was. Anger. Humiliation?

The referee blows the whistle, and much to my relief, the rest of our teammates rush towards us. Pierce instantly lets go.

I scramble to my knees, dirt smeared across my face, and glare at him angrily. He stands above me, not even out of breath, looking down at me like I'm an insect he's just finished playing with.

He extends a hand towards me.

"I'm just trying to help. Can you stand?" He says, smirking. His eyes are gleaming with dark amusement.

I ignore his extended hand as Tate helps me to my feet. My legs are shaking, and I hate that Pierce can see it.

"You look terrible. You better visit the nurse's office. I'll escort you."

Tate leads me out of the pitch. Something prompts me to look back, and I instantly regret it.

My eyes clash against Pierce's. He's staring at me so intently that my legs falter. His gaze travels down my body slowly.

What is that look for?

I suddenly feel like an endangered species in this instant. The intensity of his gaze burns deeply through my skin like a hot rod of steel, branding me.

I can only interpret it as hate. Perhaps he does loathe me more than I dislike him.

But hate doesn't explain the way he looked at me. Hate doesn't explain what I felt pressed against my back.

I shake the thought away and keep walking.

***

"How did you offend him? Anyone would think that he's marked you!" Tate says, staring at my bruised shoulders, which bear Pierce's hand imprint. The red welts are stark against my pale skin, shaped exactly like his fingers. Like he branded me on purpose.

I wince at the reddish sight and curse my pale, sensitive skin.

"Don't speak nonsense. He's completely nuts," I say, anger flushing through me as I recall how he'd humiliated me. Sure, I wasn't Mr. Muscular, but I certainly am no twink!

I pause.

Am I?

I'm not that tall. I stand currently at 5'10 at eighteen years old. Pierce already stands over 6'2. I also don't have muscles compared to him. My body is lean. When it comes to bodily hair too, I barely have any, while Pierce probably has a trail of dark hair leading down from his navel to his-

Wait!

Am I getting insecure and comparing myself to that bastard?

Why am I even thinking about his body?

I shake my head aggressively, trying to dislodge the unwanted thoughts.

"Sorry, I have to return to practice," Tate says, glancing at the wall clock.

He leaves, and I stand from the nurse's bed. Everybody has either left or is watching the practice. This is the best opportunity for me.

I return to the empty classroom and head straight to Lana's bag. I search through it for some seconds, wondering what to steal this time.

I gaze at her handkerchief and quickly stuff it into my pocket. My heart spikes, and I'm getting excited again. The familiar rush of adrenaline, the thrill of having something that belongs to her.

I grab one of her notebooks as well, and a smile slowly makes its way to my lips. I can't wait to be her knight in shining armour when I return it to her. She'll think I found it somewhere. She'll be grateful. She'll smile at me.

I leave the classroom. The crowded hallway tells me that the game is already over. My eyes locate Lana instantly, and my smile freezes in place.

She is standing in front of Pierce.

In her hand is a bottle of water, which she extends towards him. She is gazing at him with a soft smile, the kind of smile I've been dreaming about receiving from her.

The betrayal I feel in this instant is blinding. I can taste it at the back of my throat, and it's fucking bitter.

My icy eyes continue to glare at Pierce, and as though he can feel my heated gaze, he suddenly turns, and our gazes lock.

One of his brows quirks challengingly. He is once again mocking me as he accepts the water from Lana and opens it. He starts to gulp it down while his gaze remains fixated on me. Water drips down his chin, trailing down his neck, and I watch a droplet disappear beneath the collar of his jersey.

Why am I watching that?

I force my eyes back to his face, and he's smirking. Like he knows exactly where I was looking.

With Pierce's good looks and height, and adding to the fact that his family is filthy rich and powerful, he's every girl's dream. Lana will most certainly fall for his type. It's clear that I stand no chance against him.

They haven't announced that they are dating yet, but then again, Pierce doesn't do relationship stuff. I've heard enough rumours to know that he merely fucks girls and dumps them. He changes girls weekly, and sometimes even less than that.

He's going to destroy her. Just like he destroys everyone.

He suddenly leans towards Lana. His mouth captures hers in a kiss that sends my blood roaring in my ears. But his eyes don't close. They stay open, locked onto mine, watching me as his tongue slides into her mouth.

He continues to kiss her passionately, grabbing her ass and pulling her against him. His hands are all over her, possessive and claiming, but his gaze never leaves my face.

He's not kissing her for her.

He's kissing her for me. To show me. To taunt me.

My whole body vibrates with raw anger. And jealousy.

I want to kill him.

My blood pulsates with murderous intention.

And the bastard is grinning at me as he pulls away from Lana, licking his lips slowly, deliberately. Like he's tasting something delicious. Like he's daring me to act.

I badly want to snatch Lana from his arms, but I know I will only end up making a fool of myself. So I stand there, watching and enduring, knowing it should be me holding Lana like that. Not him.

There is nothing good about Pierce. I can love Lana more. I can treat her better. I will cherish her way more than him.

I can't let him use her and crush her as he does to the other girls he sleeps with. I have to protect her. It's the only way I can truly prove my love for her.

I'm going to keep Pierce Masterson far away from her.

At any cost.

CHAPTER THREE

~MALAKAI~

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The shower feels amazing against my skin. The sports period has just ended, and there are still some minutes left before the last period.

Lana and Pierce have been so intimate with each other today as well, and it's driving me crazy.

I need to come up with a plan to tear them apart soon.

It doesn't seem like it will be easy to deal with Pierce. I already feel exhausted merely thinking about him. The way he looked at me on the field. The way his body felt pressed against mine. The way he-

No. I'm not thinking about that.

I bow my head in the shower, letting the hot water cascade down my back, when the bathroom door suddenly opens. I turn around instantly to see him enter.

Pierce.

I blink to ensure that I'm not imagining him. He walks inside nonchalantly, draped in only a white towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets cling to his chest, trailing down his abs, disappearing into the towel. His dark hair is damp, pushed back from his face, and without the usual arrogant smirk, he almost looks... dangerous. More dangerous than usual.

There are other empty bathroom stalls. So why this particular one?

I glare at him as he walks to stand beside me. Too close. The shower stall suddenly feels suffocating.

"What's your problem?!" I seethe. I am already at my wits' end with him. Pierce stares at me, looking completely unfazed by my hostile expression. If anything, he seems amused. His eyes travel down my body slowly, like he's cataloging every inch of exposed skin.

"I should probably ask you that. You've been scowling at me all day. I need to know what your problem is, preacher boy."

I tense with further irritation at the use of that name. Pierce certainly knows how to set my whole body ticking like a time bomb.

"Don't call me that!" I grit.

"What do you want me to call you? You're so short. How about I call you baby?" His voice drops on the last word, low and mocking, and something twists in my stomach.

I have a fucking name, dummy!

"Can't you see that this bathroom is already occupied?" I'm vibrating with anger while he merely cocks his head, still wearing that stupid nonchalant expression that I hate so much.

"I can see that...We are alone in here, Kai."

Kai?

Another fucking nickname?

It is common for us boys to shower together, especially after sports. It's quite often that we see each other naked. But somehow, as Pierce gazes at me, I grow deeply uncomfortable. 

His gaze lingers past my waistline, and he smirks. Slow. Predatory.

Shit!

I wish I had on a piece of underwear right now. If he's staring at me so purposefully to get on my nerves, he's definitely succeeding. I bring my hands to shield myself, and his stupid smile grows even wider.

"Shy?" He takes a step closer. The water from my shower head splashes against his chest now, soaking into his towel. "That's cute."

"Since you know that, then leave, idiot!" My voice is highly pitched. I grow even more uncomfortable under his watchful eyes. The steam feels thicker now, harder to breathe.

"You have an interesting body..." He says. It is so out of pocket that I just stare at him dumbly.

His eyes roam over me like he's studying something fascinating. Something he wants to dissect.

"This birthmark... Right here... Very interesting." His hand extends, and his index finger touches my chest, pressing against the freckle that sits dangerously close to my..."Don't touch me!" I hissed.

His touch burns. The water is hot, but his finger feels hotter.

I'm immobile due to shock when his palm slowly massages its way to my shoulder, which is still bruised from his attack on the pitch. His thumb traces the outline of his own handprint, the marks he left on my skin.

"I should have been more gentle with you," he murmurs in a strangely soft voice. His fingers dig into the bruise, and I hiss in pain. "Who knew you were such a softie."

For the briefest second, I think I see something flash in his eyes. Remorse? No. Satisfaction. He likes seeing his marks on me. He likes knowing he put them there.

What a conflicting human being.

Why am I even letting him touch me so freely? Something must be wrong with me. His hand is still on my shoulder, his thumb still pressing into the bruise, and I haven't moved. Why haven't I moved?

I break free from the trance of his gaze and roughly swat off his hand.

"Just stay away from me, weirdo. I mean it. Keep your distance!"

Something about the way he gazes at me fills me with so much unease. Something crazy in his eyes makes me want to just get away. 

"Since you won't leave... I'll go." I grab my towel and quickly wrap it around my waist. I start to leave when he suddenly says,

"Stay away from Lana from now on."

My fingers freeze on the doorknob. I turn around to meet the icy look in his eyes. The playfulness is gone. What remains is something cold. Something deadly.

I should have taken the warning.

"Who are you to tell me that? You don't even care about her!"

I've loved Lana before he even knew her. He has no right to tell me what to do. Even if Lana likes him, it still doesn't permit him to order me not to-

"You're right. I don't care about her." He takes a step toward me. Then another. "To me, she's just like the other girls who have been throwing themselves at me lately."

How dare he call Lana a slut?!

"But she has a hot body. I may take up her offer. Perhaps this weekend..." He tilts his head, watching my reaction with keen interest. "I wonder what sounds she'll make when I test her out-"

Fury explodes from within me. I barely feel myself move, but the next thing I know, I lurch at him, and my fist connects against his jaw.

"Shut up, you fucking son of a bitch!" I roar at him. Pain explodes in my knuckles, but I don't fucking care. I just hope he feels just as much pain.

Pierce's head snaps to the side from the impact. When he turns back to face me, his eyes are gleaming. Excited.

"Does the thought of me with her upset you?" His tongue darts out to lick the blood from his lip. "Or is it something else that's bothering you?"

I punch him again, harder this time.

"You don't deserve Lana! Stay away from her, bastard, or I'll fucking make you!" I growl in infuriation.

Pierce wipes his lip with his thumb and stares at the blood. Satisfaction floods through me when I notice his bleeding bottom lip.

The bastard is still smirking. Does he fucking enjoy getting hurt?

"More," he says quietly. "Hit me again."

What?

"Come on, preacher boy. I know you want to." He spreads his arms wide, leaving himself open. Vulnerable. "Show me what you've got."

Fuck. He's crazier than I thought.

He steps toward me intimidatingly, closing the distance I'd created. I stand my ground, meeting his gaze squarely, refusing to back down.

"You can't even land a proper blow. If you really want to hurt me, then do it properly!" He growls, and before I know it, he suddenly grabs my throat, slamming my back against the bathroom wall.

"Argh!" I cry out from the brutal force and the pain while hating myself for giving him the satisfaction.

The tiles are cold against my bare back. His hand is hot around my throat. The contrast makes me dizzy.

"Look at you..." He sneers, and his grip on my neck tightens painfully. His face is inches from mine, close enough that I can see the individual drops of water clinging to his eyelashes. "So pathetic. So weak."

Is he trying to kill me?

"You seem to really like her, huh? You can't even hide how you drool over her." His thumb strokes the side of my throat, almost tender, even as his grip remains crushing. "Tell me, why would she ever get together with a wimp like you?"

My eyes flash with indignation.

I attempt to shove him off, but he easily slams my body against the wall again, harder this time, knocking the breath out of me.

His harsh breath lands on my face as he leans even closer. Our noses are almost touching. If either of us moved an inch-

"You don't even have what it takes to challenge me..." I feel his hand move against my towel, grasping it firmly.

"What are you-"

Before I can let out the words, he yanks off my towel, tossing it to the floor. The cold air hits my exposed skin, and then I feel his fingers wrap around me.

My body freezes instantly from shock and humiliation.

His hand. Gripping me like he owns it.

"How are you going to impress Lana with this?" His voice is low, mocking, his breath hot against my ear. "Or does it get bigger when you're excited?"

His grip shifts, and despite everything, despite the fear and the rage and the humiliation, my body betrays me. I feel myself twitch in his hand.

No. No, no, no.

"But still..." He squeezes, and I bite back a sound I refuse to identify. "It's not enough for you to use on anyone. Not enough to satisfy her. Not enough to satisfy anyone."

His grip tightens, and anger and embarrassment flood through me. But underneath it, something else. Something hot and confusing that I shove down violently.

"Fucking retard! Let it go!" I yell, but his grip only gets stronger.

"I don't like your language." His eyes gleam abnormally as he cups me, surging my entire body with panic. "Tell me... Should I just crush it?"

He's a maniac.

He may actually do it.

I start to shove him with my palms, to no avail. One of his hands is still gripping my neck, and the other is wrapped around me. The force of his body keeps me trapped against the wall. I can feel every inch of him pressed against me. I can feel that he's excited.

Why is he hard?

"Please... Just let it go!" The plea leaves my mouth. At this point, I just want to get away from this psychopath. Away from the heat of his body. Away from the confusing signals my own body is sending me.

"What was that? Say it louder." He tilts his head to stare down at me. His thumb brushes over my tip, and I jerk violently.

"Let it go! Let go... It hurts... Please!"

My legs cower with relief as he releases me.

"Good boy..." He says, patting my hair. His fingers card through the wet strands, almost affectionate, and I grossly feel like a dog. Like a pet he's just finished training.

I set some distance between us, still struggling to catch my breath. 

"Stay away from Lana. It's so annoying to see you hover around her every time." His eyes are dead cold and flash with warning. "Consider this my last warning to you."

He turns to leave, then pauses at the door. He looks back at me over his shoulder, "And Kai?" He smiles, slow and dangerous. "I'll be watching you."

He leaves the bathroom. I'm left alone, shaking, to replay the madness of the whole situation again and again.

My body is still reacting. I hate myself for it.

***

I race down the hallway, wondering why everything keeps going so wrong. First, it was the awful incident with Pierce, and now I can't believe I forgot my laptop in the classroom.

If anyone finds it and opens it...

Shit!

I can't even think about what will happen. My whole life as it is will be completely over.

I sprint into the empty classroom. I spot my school bag on the desk.

I open my bag, and much to my relief, my laptop is still safe.

Whew!

It is certainly a close one. My laptop is password protected, so I don't have to worry about anyone gaining access to it during this short time.

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CHAPTER FOUR

MALAKAI

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The whole week has been so draining.

The best part about weekends for me isn't just about not going to school but also the fact that my parents aren't around. They have to attend several church programs. Their absence is a symbol of peace and freedom.

This time around, I am ecstatic that I won't have to see that lunatic.

Every time I close my eyes, I still feel his hand around my throat. Around my-

I shake my head violently. Stop thinking about it.

A knock sounds on my door. I look up to see my brother. He enters my room, and I can't help but notice his flashy attire. Ripped jeans, a chain around his neck, dark eyeliner smudged beneath his eyes. He looks like a completely different person from the boy who used to follow me around as a kid.

"You didn't come to school today," I say.

Ezra's expression hardens instantly. "Why? Are you going to report to Dad?" He leans against my doorframe, arms crossed, jaw tight. "Not everyone can be a great son like you. Perfect attendance, top of the class. I can't even compete with you." His voice drips with sarcasm. "You're so annoying, you know that?"

How long has he been waiting to say these words to me?

I can't even blame him. Our father is the root cause. Every comparison, every beating Ezra took while I stood in the corner, every time Dad held me up as the golden standard. The wedge between us has been growing for years.

Skipping school isn't just the problem. I'm more concerned about the friends he's been hanging around with lately. They smoke and drink. I've heard rumors about worse things. I'm afraid of Ezra being influenced. He's just sixteen. He doesn't believe it, but I do care about him.

"Don't blame me for last time," I say. "I didn't snitch to anyone. It isn't my fault that you left your business carelessly for Dad to see."

"Are you telling me that you're just better at not being caught?" Ezra pushes off the doorframe and takes a step into my room. His eyes narrow, studying me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. "It makes me wonder the sort of things you do..."

I grow uncomfortable under Ezra's sudden interested stare. He's looking at me like he's trying to crack open my skull and peer inside.

"You don't look like you have a single bad bone in you." He takes another step closer. "You don't have a girlfriend either because I've never seen you even look in any girl's direction." His head tilts. "So what secret are you hiding, big brother?"

My laptop suddenly feels like a ticking bomb on my desk. My collection. My photos. My stolen treasures.

"I don't hide things." My voice comes out too defensive. Too quick. "If you're done, then get out of my room!"

My heart is starting to race. I don't like being so carefully observed like this. Ezra has always been perceptive, even as a kid. He notices things.

"Seeing how skittish you are..." A slow smile spreads across his face. "Are you really hiding something?" He pauses, letting the silence stretch. "Can it be that you like boys instead? Are you gay?"

"What?!" I scream.

Why would he even ask that?

Pierce's face flashes in my mind. His hand grabbing me in that shower. The way my body had-

No. No.

"You're not even denying it." Ezra's smile widens.

"Hell no! I like girls! Why the hell would I be gay?" I flare defensively and start to push him towards the door. "Now get out!"

"Why did you get so aggressive?" He laughs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Anyway, I'm just here to tell you that I'll be attending John's party tonight. Remember to lock the doors after me, and if our parents call, just tell them that I fell asleep."

He starts to leave, but I stop him.

"Why are you hanging out with those junkies again? They're violent and always in trouble with the police. Sooner or later, you'll get in trouble because of them!"

"I know my way around." He shrugs, already half out the door. "And unlike you, I actually have a social life."

I stare at him, dumbfounded. I know I'm not a saint myself, but Ezra is still a kid! He shouldn't be running with people like that.

He leaves the room, and I sigh frustratedly. If I try to stop him, he'll only get more stubborn. How do I even approach this issue?

Or maybe I'm overreacting?

I'm still a virgin at eighteen, and it gets embarrassing sometimes, especially when the boys share their experiences in the locker room. I always feel left out, sitting silently while they brag about conquests. I'm saving myself for Lana. She's the only one I want to be with.

I jump on my bed and land on my stomach.

"Fuck!" I hiss at the sore sensation in my groin region.

That lunatic had nearly broken me down there. How am I supposed to start a family with Lana if things stop working?

My hand slips beneath my waistband to check. It's still painful. Bruised.

Is it even still working? Maybe I should find out. At least just to be safe.

I ignore the soreness and try to get myself going.

It's taking a while, but I still don't feel anything.

My lips tighten in deeper concentration.

Come on. Come on.

That bastard's face is all I can see.

'How are you going to impress Lana with this...' His taunts replay loudly in my head.

Shut up!

'Or does it get bigger when you're aroused? But still... It's not enough for you to use on anyone.'

His mocking voice won't even let my body cooperate.

Or is it damaged? I stare down at myself in dismay.

No. I just need something to stimulate me and get rid of Pierce's voice in my head.

I wiggle to the side of my bed and open my drawer to pull out my newest treasure.

Lana's handkerchief.

I press it hard against my nose and inhale deeply. The fragrance of her perfume still lingers, soft and floral. I try again and imagine it's Lana's touch instead. Her soft, delicate fingers. Her sweet voice whispering my name.

I close my eyes.

But it isn't Lana's face that comes to mind.

All I can see is Pierce. Pierce. And fucking Pierce.

His dark eyes boring into mine. His hot breath on my face. His grip on me in that shower. The way he'd leaned so close our noses almost touched. The way I'd felt him hard against my thigh.

'Good boy...'

"Holy shit!" The curse slips from my mouth.

My body is reacting now.

And it's because of Pierce?

No way.

My brain and body are certainly malfunctioning. Why would thinking about Pierce ever do this to me? I'm not gay. And even if I were, I deeply despise Pierce. He's a monster. A psychopath. He humiliated me. He hurt me.

So why is my body responding to the memory?

I feel sick.

I snatch my laptop open. A picture of Lana is all I need. She'll fix this. She'll remind me of what I really want.

I open my secret gallery.

And freeze.

Panic and shock zip through my whole body like lightning.

Nothing.

The folder is empty.

It's all gone. All of Lana's pictures. Every image I'd painstakingly saved and organized.

Gone.

I sit up in disbelief, my heart hammering against my ribs. How did this happen? This laptop can only be accessed by me. There's no way I deleted it without knowing.

Is there some kind of error? A glitch? I click through folder after folder, searching desperately.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

It's like they never existed.

I'm still in a confused mess when my phone vibrates, startling me so badly I nearly drop it.

It's a message. I don't recognize the number.

My fingers tremble as I click on it.

It's a picture.

A picture of Lana.

The most recent one that I'd taken. The one where she's laughing at something, her hair catching the sunlight. I remember taking it just last week, hiding behind the bleachers.

How?

How does someone have this?

My whole body goes cold as I read the single word beneath the image. A word that ripples my whole body with ice-cold panic.

'PERVERT'

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