9. Penelope
PENELOPE
There they are.
The three perfectly fucked-up boys of the Serpent & Skull Society.
The boys who run this place.
And they’re sitting on their luxurious, red velvet seats, staring at me with disdain like they’re the fucking gods of this earth.
Felix lights a cigarette and blows out the smoke in my direction, then hands his cigarette to Dylan, who also takes a long drag.
“So … Penelope … you think we’re waiting for you?” Felix asks, spreading his muscular legs because they barely fit in the seat.
The door behind me closes, and I’m eerily aware of the sound it makes.
Especially when it’s locked.
Fuck.
I knew it would be dangerous to come here, but I didn’t expect that fucker Jason to actually lock the door on me.
No turning back now.
“I know you broke into my room,” I say.
Better throw it all out on the table right away.
“Do you now?” With a devious grin, Dylan leans back, looking me up and down. “Where’s your proof?”
“Give me the fucking diary,” I say through gritted teeth.
“What diary?” Alistair mutters, sitting awkwardly in his seat like he’s hiding something.
I know they have it. I know it was them. They know it. But the fact that they deny it to my face pisses me off.
“I’m not here to play games,” I say.
“I am,” Felix says, and he takes the cigarette back from Dylan and takes another deep drag, blowing it all out in one go until the room practically fills with smoke.
I push away the need to cough.
“I know you fucking stole it,” I say, stepping closer to show them I’m not afraid.
Felix looks up at me from his seat, his eyes still at half mast, still as cold as ice. “What if we did? What will you do?”
His gaze darkens, and so does mine, while my hand tightens around the knife in my pocket.
I didn’t come here without something to ensure my safety.
Especially after our last encounter.
“Why did you take it?” I ask as I come closer and closer.
But there’s no answer. All they do is smirk and glare at me.
This book … means everything to me. I need it back. And I am done fucking waiting until one of them admits the truth.
I pull my knife from my pocket and point it at Felix. “Give it to me. Now.”
For the first time since I’ve seen him, an actual smile forms on his lips before it fades into oblivion as though it never even existed. Brief, but a smile nonetheless.
“What are you going to do? Slice me? Stab me like you did in that hallway?” He leans in, closer and closer, until his face is mere inches away from the point of my blade. “Do it then. I dare you.”
Is this fucker insane?
The knife is lodged firmly in the palm of my hand, but I don’t move, not even an inch, because I know the scars I can cause will be permanent. And it would definitely make it harder to escape from here.
“Go on … just the tip,” he muses, leaning in until the tip pierces through the slit of his mouth, and it opens up, his tongue slipping out to curl around the blade like only a snake would.
I retract the knife.
Stabbing him wouldn’t get me what I wanted.
The other two boys laugh.
“Shame,” Felix mumbles and leans back in his seat again.
He’s taunting me, but I won’t fall for this trick.
“No, you’re the shameful ones for stealing what belongs to me,” I say.
“Sounds like it’s important to you,” Dylan says, taking another drag of Felix’s smoke.
“What’s inside?” Alistair asks. “Secrets?”
“None of your fucking business,” I snarl.
“But it is.” Felix’s fingers curl, and his nails dig into the leather. “You came here into our fucking house just to get it back.” He throws me an arrogant look. “I want to know why.”
“Like I’d ever tell you,” I retort.
“You will if you want it back.”
Got him . “So you admit you took it?”
His brows rise. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“Your answers.”
My nostrils flare.
“Did you write it?” Alistair suddenly asks.
When I merely stare at him, Felix says, “Answer him.”
He’s testing me. But I can play this game. “No.”
Dylan’s eyes narrow. “Then who did?”
“My sister.”
Felix’s fingers twitch. “Say her name.”
“Eve.” I tilt my head. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” I lean on my knees to look him in the eyes. “Because she told you my name.”
A filthy smirk forms on his lips again, but it disappears as quickly as it came.
“I already like her,” Dylan muses.
“Don’t,” Felix barks, and the other two immediately look away.
So he really is the one in charge.
“Like? Chasing after someone in a stairwell is not something I’d do to someone I ‘like,’” I rebuke.
“We do,” Dylan replies, licking his lips.
A chill runs up and down my spine.
“Tell me why you three were at her funeral.” It’s a long shot, but I have to try.
“Why should we have to explain ourselves to you?” Dylan answers.
“All her friends were there,” Alistair adds.
“Friends, yes,” I say.
Felix’s eyes narrow. “Are you implying something?”
Yes, I am. But I won’t say it out loud. Not while I still need something from them.
“Just give me the fucking diary. It’s no use to you,” I say through gritted teeth.
“So it’s important to you,” Felix muses. “How important?”
“She was my sister. She didn’t want anyone to read it. Except for me,” I say, still clutching that knife firmly in my hand.
His brow rises. “How do you know?”
“I just do,” I say, tired of these games. “Now give me the diary.”
He tilts his head. “Show me what you’re willing to do, then.”
I frown. “What? Why? It’s mine.”
With a dead-serious look, he says, “Get on your knees.”
Is he for real?
My fingers tighten around the knife. “No. No fucking way.”
Why would he think I’d do that willingly? I don’t fucking know what he’s planning, and I sure as hell know what these boys are capable of. It can’t be anything good.
“Well then, I guess the diary is gone forever,” Dylan muses from his seat, pushing out his cigarette in the ashtray.
“I need it,” I growl back. “This isn’t a joke.”
“I’m not joking either,” Felix replies, eyeing my knife. “The question is … what are you willing to do to get it back?”
I grind my teeth in frustration, contemplating whether I should stab him again. But it’s three against one, and they would not let me walk out of here without an equally painful scratch.
“Twirl around for me,” Felix taunts. “Let me see what’s underneath that skirt.”
“Perverts,” I mutter under my breath.
Dylan laughs. “Thanks for the compliment.”
Of course they’d see it as a compliment.
There’s a glimmer in his eyes. “You haven’t even seen us at our worst yet.”
“Now twirl, or you’ll never see that fucking diary again,” Felix says, gawking at me with those eyes that scream dominance.
He wants to overpower me.
Make me submit.
And if I want that diary back, I don’t have any fucking choice in the matter.
Fuck.
Sighing out loud, I slowly twirl around so the skirt doesn’t rise too much, but I can still catch a glimpse of their mischievous and victorious looks, and they piss me off.
Felix suddenly stands up, and his hand coils around my wrist the moment I reach the end of my spin. His grip is firm, painful even, and I struggle to jerk free.
He’s face-to-face with me, and it makes it hard to breathe.
“Let go of me,” I growl, trying to keep my bearings.
Violence flickers in his eyes. “No, I don’t think I will.”
He shakes my wrist so hard I lose my grip on the knife, and it drops … right into his other hand.
Before I can even react, he’s already thrown it to Dylan, who easily catches it. He twirls it around in his hand, showing off the fact that I’m no longer in control.
They are.
My body floods with panic, but I swallow down the nerves.
Felix’s free hand latches onto my shoulder.
“In fact, I think it’s about time you go down on your fucking knees.
” Gripping my wrist, he forces me down until I collapse onto the floor from his overpowering strength.
With his darkening gaze on me, I struggle to even react.
His half-mast killer eyes alone could pin anyone to the floor.
He releases my wrist, only to grab my face, pushing my cheeks together. “That pretty face deserves to be destroyed.” His fingers slide down to my chin, and he pushes it down, forcing a thumb inside. “You want your fucking diary back?”
When I try to speak, he shushes me. “Just nod.”
Fuck. I hate him so much. But I still nod because I can’t even say a word without gargling from his fingers slowly pushing farther down my tongue.
“Then be a good little fucking slut and gag for me,” he growls, stuffing his fingers all the way inside until his knuckles hit my teeth.
Tears well up in my eyes, and I cough out loud, trying to resist the urge to vomit.
“That’s it. That’s the little slut-face I’m looking for,” Felix murmurs, leaning in to spit on my face.
Dylan and Alistair laugh. “Get her.”
When Felix pulls his fingers from my throat, I gag and mutter, “Fuck you.”
“Gladly,” Felix replies. He slowly tugs down his zipper. “But first, you’re going to show me just how much that throat of yours can take.”
My eyes widen. He’s really going to make me do this, isn’t he?
Fuck.
I want to scream, but it wouldn’t do a thing.
I’m in their lair, and no one here would help me.
And if I don’t do what he wants, I’ll never see that diary again.
I have no choice.
Making a face, I stare him down as he tilts my chin down so my eyes follow. His abs tighten through his shirt as he pulls his cock right through the hole of the zipper. It’s hard. Curved. And huge. Much bigger than any of my previous lovers.
But that’s not the thing that makes me gasp.
It’s the number of piercings.
Four of them, at least, an ampallang through the glans and a ring below in the frenum, one barbell through the shaft, and a ring through the pubic. Jesus.
“Like my jewelry?” He pushes my chin down until my lips part. “You’ll like it even more when they slide across your tongue.”
“You’re fucked up,” I say.
“You don’t even know how badly,” he retorts. “Now part those pretty fucking lips for me, Pen, and let’s see how fucked up you can get too.”