Chapter 30 Kai #2
I lift my eyebrows, opening my eyelids as wide as possible to focus on my phone screen.
…love to find out…
I consider a few responses.
Fuck off and die.
Burn in hell.
That last one is courtesy of Haven. But none seem harsh enough.
“What’s the worst way to tell someone to fuck off?” I ask Kruger.
Kruger.
But I get like a hundred replies.
“Kindly vacate my vibe,” Kruger says.
“Weak.” Nolan coughs on the joint, and as if inspired, says, “Tell ‘em to choke on a Lego.”
“Unsubscribe me,” Blake says behind me, giving me a fucking heart attack. He taps me with his foot. “Dude, make room.”
I shift over reluctantly, angling even more so he can’t see my phone screen. I should get out and have this fucking duel with Rooke where no one can eye spy my screen, but I’m getting some good feedback here.
“Nastier,” I say, shaking my head. “I need ruthless, not funny.”
“Delete yourself.” When the fuck did Dahmer climb into the hot tub?
I press my lips together. “Could work.”
“You’re not worth the battery I’m wasting,” Austin says.
“Forget it,” I mutter, waving away their suggestions.
@wanderkind
Keep texting.
The more evidence the better
@inherentvice
Evidence of what?
I bite the inside of my lip. This fucking guy. I close my eyes against a sharp sting, but they fly open a second later when something bumps against my hand.
Blake is holding out a bottle of eyedrops.
“Dude, yes.” I dose myself and pass the bottle on to Dahmer. Need to get my vision checked, because I still don’t know how I didn’t notice him getting in the hot tub. He takes the drops but passes it onto Austin without using them. Guess he likes pain, the sick fuck.
As I’m trying to figure out what to reply, Kruger leans in.
“Yo, man, gotta question…”
I like Kruger, but damn, the guy’s nosy as fuck. “What?”
“What happened after we dropped you off at that house?”
Everyone goes silent. There’s even a snatch of silence from the boombox before it shuffles to the next song on Blake’s playlist.
“Who’s house?” Nolan asks.
I clear my throat, not looking at him. “Nothing,” I mutter.
Kruger’s not picking up my vibe. “’Cos you said you’d call if you needed us to—“
“Yeah, but I didn’t,” I cut in.
His mouth opens again, but I don’t let him speak. “She wasn’t there. He’d dropped her off at a friend’s house.”
“Ah, shit, really?” Kruger chuckles. “And here we were—”
“Yeah, big waste of time,” I cut in again, because it seems Kruger’s too fucking stoned to realize everyone’s listening, trying to piece together what he’s talking about.
I think Blake figures it out, because he says, “Dude, we were so faded. We shouldn’t even have been driving.”
I’d have thanked him, but I’m too high, and still reeling from Rooke’s messages, never mind Kruger’s guerrilla attack.
“Yeah, fucking tell me about it.” Kruger laughs. “Felt like we were in a fucking action movie, giving chase like that.” He mimics driving a car, tires squealing, and everyone bursts out laughing.
Action movie? More like a low-budget porno.
“Dude, thank you!” Myles says, pointing at Kruger. “I keep forgetting to tell you guys. I watched the most kick ass fucking reel the other day. This guy gets in his Bugatti, and he…”
I don’t give a fuck about said dude or his car. I’m just fucking glad the attention’s off me and Kruger’s questions.
My thumbs tap furiously on my phone screen.
@wanderkind
U know what I’m talking about asshole
@inherentvice
It’s 3am. Seriously think I’m sober enough to remember?
Fuck, he’s toying with me. Not sure why the hell I’m surprised. I tap the sides of my phones, lips rolled together as I try to figure out what to say.
I should just fucking block him. It’s obvious he’s just trolling me because he’s bored or something.
And definitely not sober.
Just booze, or some more coke?
@wanderkind
Say it straight or I’m blocking u
@inherentvice
Straight is boring.
Unlike you and my gun this morning.
I get another jolt hardwired to the base of my fucking spine. My hand shakes, and if I wasn’t this fucking lit, I’d be throwing my phone.
@wanderkind
U want to get caught?
@inherentvice
Both my firearms are legal.
As is the girl we had over for brunch.
I laugh despite myself, because how the fuck is he still this sharp when my autocorrect keeps noping out on me because it doesn’t have a fucking clue what I’m trying to say?
@wanderkind
Stand the fuck down
@inherentvice
Why? You on your knees again?
My nostrils flare as I swipe a hand through my hair. This fucking motherfucker. I’m still thinking of some vicious reply when another message comes through.
@inherentvice
Bet you didn’t notice she came first.
Too busy choking on cock.
@wanderkind
Keep her out of this!
@inherentvice
Or what?
You’ll fuck me into submission?
I’m not a bottom, boy.
But she sure is.
I know I shouldn’t be instigating, but I can’t fucking help myself.
@wanderkind
Unless she has a gun
@inherentvice
I’m so shocked at getting a fucking emoji from Rooke, I nearly drop my phone in the hot tub.
@inherentvice
Come over, boy. I have candy.
@wanderkind
Fuck you
@inherentvice
That’s the plan.
I’ve had her, now I want you.
Possessive rage tightens the grip on my phone until I can feel the case creaking.
@inherentvice
I wasn’t joking about the candy.
There’s enough for me and you.
Her, too.
@wanderkind
Stop messaging and leave us alone or everyone will know what you’ve done.
@inherentvice
Come and play, or everyone will know what YOU’VE done.
@wanderkind
You think you scare me?
@inherentvice
No, Kai.
I think I own you.
He’s got nothing. I mean, what the fuck could he have? My mind scrambles for anything I might have said, some sliver of info I could have dropped while—
—while we were busy.
Ezra?
My dad?
Newsworthy, sure, but not a direct threat to me.
Right?
Right?
Jesus, Kruger’s weed has made me so fucking paranoid—
Rooke sends me an image.
I lock my phone with trembling hands, nearly fumbling it.
Heart pounding, I glance around to see if anyone saw my screen. Only Nolan’s looking my way, but his eyes are glazed and unfocused. Blake and Kruger are talking, Dahmer is busy on his phone, and Austin’s head is back, shoulders bopping along to the music.
I feel like I’ve just woken from a nightmare, body still in shock from the jumpscare that dragged me out.
“Yo, guys, I’m…I’m fading,” I mumble, standing.
“Dude, no!” Blake grabs my knee. “That track I was telling you about is coming up—”
I pull him off. “Tomorrow, bro.” I give Kruger a chin bob, ignoring the rest of the guys that greet me.
I don’t make it inside the house.
The half-dying shrub closest to the deck of the NEX frat house gets a dose of puke—possibly not the first tonight. This is where everyone either vomits or pisses if they can’t make it inside. Highly discouraged, of course, but preferable to the hardwood floors.
My shoulder scrapes along the wall as I drag myself upstairs to my room, using the railing to haul myself along.
I collapse onto my bed, and should have passed out from the sheer amount of weed and booze circulating my veins, but I have to check my phone.
Because it can’t be real.
I was fucking hallucinating.
Except…it is.
And I wasn’t.
There’s a new message beneath the picture.
@inherentvice
Appears non-consensual, doesn’t it?
My lips part, an incredulous huff leaving my mouth.
@inherentvice
Who should I send this to first?
The dean?
Your parents?
…her?
All I can manage in my near catatonic state is one desperate word.
@wanderkind
Don’t
@inherentvice
You’ll have to beg me in person.
I type the word ‘pls’ before my tanked brain understands his last text.
I won’t do it.
I can’t.
If I go to his house, I’ll do something I regret.
It won’t be sucking his dick like he expects. It’ll be far worse. I might just leave him in the same condition I left Ezra.
Because Rooke also touched what’s mine…and he’s threatening to do it again.
My phone rings, and ends up across the room as I hurl it away from me in shock. It carries on ringing, slightly muffled where it landed on top of Rooke’s hoodie.
Only when the ringing stops do I dare retrieve my phone. The app is still open, no new messages. But as I shuffle back to my bed, a new one appears.
Another picture.
“Jesus.” I clap a hand over my eyes, shaking my head. Compared to the previous image, it’s practically SFW.
But it’s not, because it’s Rooke, and it does shit to me.
A shot of his hip, a thumb dragging down the side of his gray sweatpants just low enough to expose the V in his muscles and a trail of dark pubic hair.
I swallow down bitter saliva, eyes still closed as I try to figure out if I’m going to puke again.
But it’s not nausea.
The picture of Haven he sent gave my dick ideas. It’s already hard when I crawl onto my mattress and fall down on my back. And it only gets harder when I scroll up, obscuring the last photo in favor of Haven’s.
I didn’t realize Rooke had his phone with him on Friday night.
He had the perfect view of a collared Haven from his armchair at the foot of the bed. Her legs spread, pussy on full display.
In the photo, I’m scowling as I finger her.
With her hands bound to the headboard, the fearful expression on her blindfolded face, and the way I’m pushing down on her stomach to pin her to the bed…
He’s right.
It doesn’t look consensual.
And of course the part of me that should be doing five to ten in a state facility can’t get over how fucking hot she looks, all tied up like that.
The part that takes out my dick. That strokes it until my eyes close, and all I can see is Haven squirming and writhing under me as I take what I’ve wanted for so many years.
I buck into my fist, wishing it was her tight cunt.
But the weed’s fucking with my mind, because the image keeps changing, flickering between what I want, and the sinister seed Rooke planted there.
Haven, then him.
Her writhing and whimpering in pain as I take what I want in brutal thrusts.