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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CHAPTER SIX

-MALAKAI-

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Pierce ignores my questions.

He merely walks to the side of the room, his movements unhurried. Like he has all the time in the world. 

He pours himself a drink. The amber liquid catches the dim light as it splashes into the glass. He makes himself comfortable on the couch, sprawling across it like a king on his throne.

He takes a sip of his drink, watching me through the rim of the glass, seeming to enjoy every second of my anxiety. His eyes never leave my face. He's savoring this. Savoring my fear.

"What do I want?" He swirls the liquid in his glass. "Hmm, now what do I want... You tell me?" He taps his jaw with a finger, pretending to think.

This fucker!

What's he being so dramatic for? I'm still furious that he invaded my privacy. And now he's playing games.

Pierce takes another sip of his drink. Slow. Then he extends the glass towards me.

Is he expecting me to drink from the same glass? The same rim his lips just touched?

I can't even hide my disgust as I stare at him.

"I don't drink alcohol," I say, which isn't a lie.

"Well, you're gonna." Pierce's voice is soft, almost gentle, but I can hear the threat laced beneath every syllable. His hand remains extended. The glass hovers between us like a challenge.

Right now, he practically calls all the shots. I guess I really don't have a choice.

Just a drink, right? If this is all it takes to get my photos back...

I snatch the glass from his hand, pour the entire contents into my mouth, and swallow it all at once.

Big mistake.

The bitter taste is choking. Fire explodes down my throat, burning a path to my stomach. My chest feels so fucking tight I think it may just explode. I start to cough violently, my eyes watering, my body convulsing.

Is this actually poison? Is he trying to kill me?

How the hell can anyone enjoy this?

Pierce watches me struggle with an amused smile playing on his lips. 

"It really shows that it's your first time drinking." He clicks his tongue. "You have to take it slow, you know. Poor baby. Tsk..."

"Don't call me that!" I growl between coughs, my throat raw and burning. Pierce certainly has the talent of knowing exactly how to rile me up.

His eyes twitch with an unreadable emotion. He reaches for the bottle and pours another glass, filling it higher this time. He lifts it to his lips, takes a long drink, then extends it to me.

His saliva is on the rim. I can see where his lips touched the glass.

Gross. Not again.

My eyes narrow at him. What the hell is his problem?

"I can't continue to swallow your saliva!" I hiss at him in irritation.

Something dark flickers in Pierce's eyes. He leans forward, and his voice drops to a low purr.

"You swallowed before." His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. "And you're going to keep swallowing it if that's what I want." He pauses, letting the words sink in. "You don't have a choice, remember?"

The crude implication makes my stomach turn. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

I know Pierce is always an asshole, but this is beyond cruel. This is something else entirely. Something twisted.

My tolerance for alcohol is very low. I already feel dizzy from the first drink, my head swimming, the room tilting slightly. The last thing I want is to end up drunk in this place. I still have to return home.

"Pierce, I really can't-"

"If you don't want it, then you can fucking leave this instant."

It's a lie. He knows I can't leave. We both know it.

His eyes bore into mine, cold and expectant. The glass hovers between us.

I accept the drink from him with trembling fingers. I try to drink it slowly as he'd said, but it still fucking burns. My throat is already raw from the first glass. My eyes are watering before I can empty even half of it.

"All of it," Pierce says quietly. "Every drop."

I force myself to swallow the rest. It feels like drinking liquid fire.

"See? Wasn't so hard, was it?" Pierce's smile widens. "Such a good boy."

I seethe internally with rage. The condescending tone. The degrading words. He's treating me like a pet. 

"Are you satisfied now?" I manage to grit out. Stupid lunatic!

"Not nearly enough."

What else does he want before he can delete those pictures? I already did what he wanted. My impatient stare meets his nonchalant one as he sprawls on the couch like he owns the world.

"You used Lana's name as your password." He scoffs, shaking his head slowly. "So stupid and predictable. I tried it on a whim, and it worked on the first try." His eyes narrow. "Your life revolves only around her, and I hate it."

His voice drips with a sudden chill that spreads goosebumps across my entire body.

Perhaps I've been wrong all this while. He's clearly protective of Lana. Why is he so confusing?

"Then what do you want from me? For me to stay away from her-"

Pierce laughs scornfully, cutting me off. The sound is sharp and cold.

"I already warned you about that earlier. Why would I want that again?"

He's watching me with that cold glint in his eyes once more. 

"Maybe I don't want anything." He cocks his head, and a cruel smile spreads across his face. "Maybe I'm just going to show Lana what a disgusting prick you are. That's what's going to satisfy me."

Is he joking with me?

Then the reason he called me all the way here...

I rush towards him without thinking.

Big mistake.

The blood rushes to my head the moment I move, and I feel dizzy instantly. The room spins. The alcohol is already kicking in.

I grab the collar of his shirt, but my grip is weak. Pathetic. My fingers can barely hold on.

"I already came here as you wanted! I did what you asked!" My words slur slightly. "It's just pictures. It's not as if I'm harming her. Neither am I harming you. Just delete the pictures, for fuck's sake!"

Pierce stares at me for a long moment. His expression is unreadable.

Then, without warning, he yanks my arm.

I lose my balance completely, tumbling forward. I land on his thighs in a sitting position, straddling him, my hands braced against his chest.

He stares down at me. His face is inches from mine. I can smell the alcohol on his breath.

His next words stop me from worrying about this awkward position.

"It's just pictures?" His voice is deadly quiet. "Then what about when you stole her handkerchief and..." He pauses. "Her panties? What do you have to say about that?"

I freeze.

Shock drains the blood from my face as I stare at Pierce in dismay.

H-how does he know that?

How?

Has he been stalking me?

No way.

I would have noticed that. I'm always careful. I'm always watching my surroundings.

So how?

"Cat caught your tongue, huh?" Pierce's hand reaches up to touch my face. His thumb starts to caress my lips, tracing the shape of them slowly. I flinch when he leans to my ear level, his teeth nearly touching the flesh.

"What did you use those items for?" His breath is hot against my skin. "Did you jerk off to them?"

Shame floods through me, burning hotter than the alcohol. I try to look away, unable to stare at his intense gaze any longer.

Of course, he doesn't allow it.

He grasps my jaw, his fingers digging into my skin, forcing me to look at him.

"You're blushing so hard." His eyes roam over my flushed face with dark satisfaction. "You must have masturbated to them. You're such a pervert."

His eyes are shrouded with so much disappointment that it only intensifies my shame. 

"How many times did you jerk off to them?" he demands.

I don't respond. I can't.  My throat has closed up.

His thumb forces my mouth open, pressing past my lips. I taste his skin, salt and something else. I flinch violently and try to stand up from his thigh, but his other arm suddenly snakes around my waist, pinning me in place.

"If you answer me..." His thumb presses down on my tongue. "I may just go easy on you." He withdraws his thumb slightly, letting me speak. "Once? Twice? Hmm?"

Why is he so curious to know about that? Is he even aware that this position of ours is so intimate? I'm straddling his lap. His arm is around my waist. His thumb was just in my mouth.

I feel so strange being close to him like this.

I want to yell at him to get his stupid finger away from my mouth, but I can only lift both my palms in front of his face.

Ten fingers.

Pierce's expression darkens. His jaw clenches so hard I can see the muscle tick.

"Ten fucking times?" His grip on my waist tightens painfully. His anger seems to intensify with every passing second. "You're disgusting, you know that?"

I flinch at the venom in his voice.

"And Lana doesn't deserve all your time and devotion!" He's nearly snarling now. "She's just an opportunistic whore like the rest of them! What about her is so good that you're so crazy for her?!"

Pierce glares at me. My body already feels weak, and my eyelids are growing heavy, but I can see the upset in his dark stare.

And something else.

Something I can't interpret. Something that looks almost like... jealousy?

No. That doesn't make sense.

"She's different..." My tongue feels thick and clumsy. "And I'm going to marry her. We're going to have a lot of kids and live h-happily ever after."

My words come out jumbled. Shit. Am I drunk already?

"Marry her?" Pierce's voice drops to a dangerous whisper. "To think that I've been trying to be patient with you, but you've been having such useless thoughts of another person."

What does he mean by that?

Patient with me? What is he talking about?

He starts to text on his phone, his fingers moving rapidly across the screen. My weak eyes are already fluttering closed. No, I can't sleep here. And certainly not in Pierce's arms.

"What should I do about you?" He murmurs, almost to himself. "I don't want to show you, but you leave me with no other choice."

I have no idea what Pierce is talking about. Once again, I attempt to leave his grip, but he suddenly stands up, lifting me in his arms like I weigh nothing.

He walks to the bed and places me on it. The mattress is soft beneath my back. The sheets smell clean.

"Just rest here." He brushes hair from my forehead, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Until you become sober."

A knock sounds.

The door pushes open, and even though my vision is blurry, there is no mistake about the figure that walks in.

Even in my dreams, I'll still recognize her.

Lana.

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