Perilous (Sinners Academy #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

PERILOUS

Emotions will end the world. Especially something as awful as love.

Not that I’m anywhere near in love with the woman on her knees, flexing her throat on my cock, proving she had been telling the truth when she told me she had absolutely zero gag reflex. If I pull her down any harder, my cock is going to end up in her stomach.

I slide my hands into her glittery hair. In the background the constant thumping of music plays out. Out there is where the regulars sit and drink and wave money, hoping to trade it for a fantasy that will never happen.

How much is this blow job costing me? Nothing. I don’t pay.

We don’t pay.

She looks up at me, nervous and curious at the same time. Can’t blame her for that. Imagine a group of men in black robes and masks sitting in a room waiting for you and your friends. And you’re told nothing is off limits. You’re told everything is on the table. You’re told the word no does not apply. It’s what you’ve signed up for.

But what you don’t know is that everything serves a purpose. This has nothing to do with a blow job. I put my head back and shut my eyes.

Big mistake.

Every single time I close my eyes I see the SUV unable to turn. I see the SUV hitting the guardrail at full speed. I see the SUV going over the edge of the cliff…

My eyes open and I swallow hard. The stripper sucking my cock groans, thinking she’s the reason I’m suddenly feeling off .

I respect her lack of gag reflex, but a blow job is a blow job. She’s boring. Almost mechanical.

My phone to my right vibrates. It’s a text from Demo telling me it’s time to make our move. That means he’s filled some stripper’s belly with warm cum.

Me?

That’s just not my style. I pull the stripper’s hair, sliding her mouth up and off my cock. She gasps and leaves her mouth open. Thick chunks of saliva hang like ropes from her lips to my cock.

I grab for my cock and start to stroke it. I grip tight. Pump hard. Pump fast. The stripper groans and sticks her tongue out. She thinks I want to jerk off into her mouth.

I grab her throat with my left hand and shove her away from me. She falls back and tries to scream but only touches her neck. She’s in shock that I grabbed her like that. Her knees knock together.

No need for that. I’m not going to fuck you.

My balls tighten and I feel my cock getting ready to explode. I reach for the glass of vodka to my left and I stand up. I aim my cock and shoot my load into the vodka.

The cum doesn’t mix. It’s its own floating entity. I grit my teeth and growl deep in my throat and chest, then step toward the stripper and hand her the glass. She takes it from me, looking scared to death.

“Drink,” I order her.

She does as she’s told. She knows what she’s signed up for. She drinks the glass of vodka and cum.

When she’s finished, I reach down with my right hand and wipe whatever cum got onto my hand on her face. I palm her face and squeeze my hand for a second or two. I move my hand away and there’s a mix of my cum and her saliva on her face.

She stares up at me with her bright blue eyes and her seductive little smile. She’s wondering just who I am. Wondering if I’m a famous person. An actor. A musician. Or maybe some politician. Someone rich and powerful.

What she doesn’t know is where I reside, I’m beyond all that.

Sinners Academy.

The brood.

Reporting to the Legion .

Serving the Perg.

A part of me thinks about what it could have felt like to shoot my load into her mouth and down her throat. Holding her head tight against my body, feeling her throat squeezing, swallowing, my cock pulsing and spitting my warm seed into her body.

That is just not my style. That kind of thing leads to problems. And problems are what got me tied up with Sinners Academy .

When your ex moves on and does so in maybe too fast of a way, what is someone supposed to do? What was I supposed to do? Stand back and watch this happen? Knowing some guy was sniffing my ex’s panties just for fun, knowing she was vulnerable…

Simply put—I fucking killed that guy.

I didn’t plan it out. I didn’t sneak around. I made damn sure that he looked me in the eyes and knew what was happening. I walked up to that panty-sniffing fuck and stabbed him in the neck a total of seven times. I watched him bleed out. I watched him die. When I was finished, I looked at my ex, winked at her, and walked away.

Last I heard, she was still in some hospital or some fancy recovery resort. Probably forced to stay there and hide because the truth could never be known.

That poor prick I killed? History rewrote itself that he was killed for his new watch and new shoes. Get this—valued at three hundred dollars total. Could you imagine?

Guys like me and the rest of us at SA , we could wipe our ass with three hundred dollars and not blink.

Obviously, after my outburst of passion , I ended up at Sinners Academy . If I was going to be big, mean, violent, and have a tendency to murder people, might as well put it to good use.

I leave the private room through the back and meet Demo in a narrow hallway that smells like cheap body spray, the walls and floor twinkling with glitter. We take our masks off. Robes too.

“He’s working for a private dance,” Demo says.

“Good. That’s his usual.”

“You realize how much this is going to fuck up the stripper, right?”

I feel a tightening in my head. This sudden crushing feeling of a memory taking control. There’s bile in my throat.

“Peri?” Demo asks. “You good?”

“Fucking perfect,” I growl. “Fuck everyone.”

I throw my shoulder into Demo and knock him out of the way. I lead the way outside to the waiting SUV for us. We trade our robes and masks for custom-made, lifelike masks. State of the art masks that are so real they could confuse anyone.

I look like a clean, middle aged man with high cheekbones and a receding hairline. Demo has a creepy looking mustache and messy black hair.

“You know, it would be much easier to just do it the standard way,” Demo says. “Get the guy alone, show him who we really are, and then fucking gut him.”

“Orders are orders,” I say as I turn away and start walking back toward the strip club.

For the record, I’m on Demo’s side with this one. I know this mask shit is Luc’s doing. Sitting on his gold fucking throne in the Perg, making decisions like this. Trying to take our murdering ways into a new light.

I hate it.

For some reason the Legion signed off on it too. Or maybe it meant this guy we were about to poison meant something different than just a normal target .

Demo and I enter the strip club again and walk to the main floor. Seven girls are topless on the main stage, one on her knees, rocking her body to some cliché eighties hair metal song.

The target stands up and puts his hands together in prayer. He then rolls up some cash and bites it with his teeth. He leans forward and the stripper crawls toward him. She takes the money with her mouth, making sure their lips get close but they do not touch.

Demo nudges me. I nod. We approach the target .

Demo takes the lead and bumps into the target from the right. The target looks at Demo. Demo nods in approval at the topless woman climbing to her feet. With a quick move, I drop a clear tablet into the target ’s drink. It dissolves instantly without any bubbles nor discoloration.

I turn my attention to the left, then slowly turn and step away from the stage. I reach into my pocket and take out a turned off cellphone and fake a phone call.

I’m not seen. Why would I be seen? I’m just some regular looking guy in a strip club. There are a dozen topless women either on stage or walking around right now. And the cameras that pick up on me will only see the lifelike mask.

I walk toward the back of the strip club and out the door for the final time. I don’t stop moving until I’m safely in the back of the SUV, where I hurry to take the mask off. We’re not that kind of group.

Masks? Fuck that.

The door opens a few seconds later and Demo lumbers into the SUV. As soon as the door shuts, the SUV starts to move. Demo tears his mask off his face and throws it down to the floor.

“Fuck this mask stuff,” Demo growls. “And what the fuck is this about with that target ? We’re not killing him tonight?”

“I guess not,” I say. “He’ll suffer though. He’ll feel like he’s having a heart attack. He’ll have to be taken out in an ambulance, rushed to the hospital. The whole thing. This is just to fuck with him.”

“Since when do we just fuck with people?” Demo asks. “He’s a target not a toy .”

“You got your dick sucked. You should be happy.”

“She was too nervous to really get into it,” Demo says. “I ended up grabbing her head and fucking her throat as hard as I could. She screamed on my dick. Cried and yelled. Then she started gagging and had to go throw up.”

“She come back for more?”

“I’m good,” Demo says. “I fucked her from behind. While she was hanging over a trashcan.”

“Romantic.”

“No such thing as that,” Demo says.

He puts his head back and shuts his eyes.

I look out the window.

The target is probably starting to feel some pain. He’ll fight it off with more booze and taking his favorite stripper into a private room. It’s not good enough. We’re not here to poison someone into a hospital bed to teach them a lesson. We’re here to murder.

We’re killers.

We kill anyone we’re told to kill. No matter what. No matter who it is.

I close my eyes and instantly see the luxury SUV going over the side of the cliff. My eyes open and I lean forward. My hands start to shake.

I crave to kill…

… and I crave to care.