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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CHAPTER FIVE

~MALAKAI~

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It's over.

My life.

My secret crush.

Everything is over.

I'm trembling like a leaf on a windy day as I wait for another message that doesn't arrive. Fear dries up my lungs. I don't think I'm breathing for the several minutes that follow.

Who is the sender?

How did they access my device even though it's password protected?

Why wait until now to message me?

These thoughts are floating through my mind as my shaky fingers start to type:

'Who are you...?'

It takes a lot of courage to click send. Even breathing becomes difficult as I wait for a response.

The message ticks twice.

They read it.

I can't stop trembling. I bite on my thumb hard enough to draw blood. The sharp pain combines with the metallic taste that floods my mouth, but it does nothing to calm me.

Seconds slowly turn into minutes. Minutes into hours. And there is still no response.

The silence is worse than any threat. It stretches on endlessly, suffocating me. Every creak of the house makes me jump. Every shadow seems to move.

'What do you want?...' I type again.

I continue to check my phone obsessively, refreshing the screen every few seconds until my eyes burn.

I'm glued to my spot on the bed. Several hours have passed since my second message. They read it. And still no fucking reply.

I want to scream, but dread dries up my throat.

This person is clearly toying with me. The delay is torturing me. They know exactly what they're doing. They're letting me marinate in my own terror.

Who could it be?

I run through everyone who might have had access to my laptop. My parents? No, they barely know how to use a smartphone. Ezra? He doesn't know my password. No one knows my password.

So how?

It's almost midnight when my phone suddenly buzzes with a new message from the sender. My hands shake so violently I can barely hold the phone steady.

My eyes widen as I read.

An address.

A location.

It's already so late at night. How is it safe to leave the house at this time? The streets will be empty. Anything could happen.

But I don't have a choice. Even if it's dangerous, this stranger has my life in their palms.

I can only obey.

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I arrive at the address. It's surprisingly close to school.

Now that I'm here, I'm suddenly too afraid to enter. It's not just any building.

It's a nightclub.

The neon signs flash in garish colors, casting red and blue shadows across the pavement. Bass thumps from inside, vibrating through the concrete beneath my feet.

Apprehension settles in my stomach, and I'm sweating despite the cool night air.

Even though it's midnight, the surroundings are bustling with young people. They laugh and stumble, drunk and carefree. They have no idea that my entire world is crumbling.

My phone buzzes.

'How long are you going to keep me waiting? Come inside. I'm getting impatient.'

I flinch at the message.

This person can see me?

I look around nervously, scanning every face in the crowd. The guy smoking by the entrance. The girl checking her phone. The bouncer with the thick arms.

Any of them could be watching me.

I don't find anyone suspicious. Or maybe everyone is suspicious. I can't tell anymore.

Stepping into the club feels like I'm walking to my death.

The inside is even more flooded with people. The blaring sound of music makes it difficult to hear anything. Bodies press against me from all sides. The air is thick with sweat and alcohol.

How do I even locate this person? A hand suddenly wraps around my shoulders from behind, and I jerk around so violently I nearly fall.

Tate?

My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. Is he the person blackmailing me?

He's grinning at me, and I clench my fists tightly, preparing myself for the worst.

"I didn't think you were the type to come to a club!"

'Well, you fucking brought me here!' I almost say aloud when Jeremiah walks towards us, extending a bottle to Tate. 

Isn't this alcohol?

It's illegal, right?

"Let's make sure you have a good time!" Tate drags my arm and leads me towards the counter. He starts to pour me a drink, and I ignore his extended hand.

"Tell me what you want!" I say impatiently, unable to keep the anger from my voice.

"I'm just trying to-"

My phone buzzes with an incoming message.

I open it, and my phone nearly slips from my hand.

'Wrong person. Top floor. You have 30 seconds.'

I stare at Tate in confusion. He isn't the blackmailer.

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Where's the top floor?" I stand up from my seat so abruptly I knock over a glass.

"Why do you want to go there? The party is happening right here!"

I ignore Tate calling after me and start to race up the stairs. I only have thirty seconds.

Twenty-five.

Twenty.

My legs burn as I take the steps two at a time. The music fades with each floor I climb, replaced by the thundering of my own heartbeat.

Fifteen.

Ten.

I burst through the door at the top, gasping for air.

I'm breathing heavily. Everything is quiet up here, unlike the blaring noise from below. The silence is almost worse. It presses against my eardrums.

But this place is empty. Just a few storage boxes, some old furniture covered in sheets. Dust motes float in the dim light from a single flickering bulb.

Where the hell is the sender?

I spin around, searching the shadows. Nothing moves.

Did I get the wrong place? Did I take too long?

Then I hear it.

The sound of a door opening behind me.

The creak of hinges that haven't been oiled in years.

And a familiar voice that has my blood turning to ice.

"Are you looking for me?"

I turn around instantly to see the shadow standing in the doorway.

For a moment, he's just a silhouette. Broad shoulders. Tall frame. The light from the hallway behind him casting his face in darkness.

Then he steps forward.

Into the light.

And my heart stops.

Pierce.

Why is he here?

No.

No way.

I refuse to believe that he's the person who found out about my secret. Anyone but him. I would have preferred a stranger. A criminal. Anyone.

But not him.

"Am I so unbearable to look at?" He walks towards me slowly, each footstep echoing in the empty room. "I don't like that expression on your face."

I instinctively take a step back. My heel catches on something, and I stumble, almost losing my balance.

God, please, let it not be him.

I doubt even the Lord will be inclined to answer my prayers. What I'd done is a sin. Is this my punishment? Is Pierce my divine retribution?

Pierce takes another step forward. A cruel grin spreads across his face, slow and satisfied. Like a cat that's finally cornered its mouse.

I flinch when he grasps my chin, his fingers digging into my jaw, tilting my face up to meet his dark stare. His grip is bruising.

"Why are you silent?" His voice is soft, almost gentle, and somehow that's worse than if he'd shouted. "I thought you really needed your photos."

My blood freezes as I meet his cocky gaze.

It's him.

It's really him.

I smack his hand from my face, my entire body vibrating with anger. "Bastard! How dare you go through my laptop! It's my privacy!"

Pierce meets my glare with a smile that showcases his perfectly set dimples. He looks almost charming. Almost innocent. If you didn't know the monster lurking beneath.

"If I were you, I would change that tone." His smile vanishes in an instant, replaced by a cold glare that makes my knees weak. "Unless you want everyone to know what kind of perverted creep you are."

The words hit me like a blow and I flinched.

"You usually look so innocent," he continues, circling me slowly. I turn to keep him in my sight, but he moves like a predator, always just at the edge of my vision. "Who knew you have such a disgusting little secret." He stops directly behind me. I can feel his breath on my neck. "I guess it's really the quiet ones that have a lot to hide."

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing this to be a nightmare. 

"What do you want?" My voice comes out steadier than I feel. "Since you called me here, you must want something."

I'm trembling with fear deep within. Why, of all people, did it just have to be him?

Pierce already hates me. Now that he knows my secret, he's going to make me suffer. 

"I don't like talking here." He moves to stand in front of me again, studying my face with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. "It's more comfortable inside. Shall we?"

He extends his hand towards me, palm up, like he's inviting me to dance.

I scoff at the gesture. Why is he acting like a gentleman when he's threatening to expose me?

When I don't take his hand, something flickers in his eyes. Annoyance? Amusement? I can't tell.

He steps closer instead, placing a hand on the small of my back. His touch is firm, burning through the fabric of my shirt. 

"Don't make me ask twice," he murmurs against my ear.

I follow him obediently. Like an animal to be slaughtered.

Walking into my doom.

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