Chapter 2
The Question
Harper
Yeah, this isn’t going to be my year. I barely have time to collect myself and move to my second class. I choose my normal spot and hope none of the horsemen have AP Statistics.
I glance at my phone and see Luke sent a group text with the back-to-school selfie I sent to Mom this morning and entered the horsemen’s numbers with the names Death, War, Pestilence, and Famine.
These boys take this whole apocalypse thing way too far.
Death is Luke, of course. The pale horse. From his cold blue eyes to his shiny blond hair. Firm jawline. Cheekbones edged like glass. And lips that look pillow soft. If he was actually death, women would be falling over themselves to die for him.
War is Caden. The red horse. He spreads violence wherever he goes. Dark hair, green eyes. Deceptively pretty face. Not perfect though. His nose has a slight tweak in it from a fight. It suits him though.
Famine is Jack. The black horse. His blue eyes are stunning and have snared many girls. Jack has that darkness to him, not the violence of Caden, but something almost brooding and thrilling—at least for some girls. Except he rarely fucks the same girl twice.
Pestilence is Eli. The white horse. If Luke looks like an angel, Eli resembles a fallen one. Just as beautiful. Soft brown hair and eyes the color of melted chocolate. He rarely smiles and everyone knows he’s rough with girls. Even I had the bruises to attest to it.
My sophomore year, Eli had come barreling down the hall after third period and I was in his path.
I didn’t notice because I was talking to Kenz.
He grabbed my hips, lifted me out of his way, and went on.
Granted, I barely registered to his six foot five self as I’m a full foot shorter, but I had bruises on my hips for a week.
Luckily, he wasn’t even aware of who I was, so crisis averted.
The back of my neck prickles again and I swear if Luke is in this class, I’ll make myself vomit to get sent home. Vomiting is the absolute worst, but it may be worth it.
When I lift my gaze, it’s not Luke in the doorway. But my relief is short-lived. Jack and Caden. And they spot me. FML.
If there ever was an unholy pairing, it’s the two dark demons of the pack. Both built to tackle with speed and agility and brute force.
The only other time I got in a horseman’s way was with them.
Junior year on the south lawn during lunch, I was sitting below my favorite tree reading with my legs outstretched.
Caden was going long while Jack threw a football.
Caden ran under the tree, not noticing me, and would have tripped over my legs if I hadn’t pulled them back just before he reached me. That could have been disastrous.
It wouldn’t have mattered that it wasn’t my fault. If he’d gotten hurt or even embarrassed, they would have taken it out on me. I would have been in their crosshairs. Public humiliation would have been imminent.
Caden had jumped to catch the ball and landed on his side beside me. His green eyes roamed over my body for a hot minute as he grinned, but then Jack ran up and grabbed his hand to pull him to stand again. While they were distracted, I managed to run off before either could say anything to me.
Now I’m not as lucky as Jack takes the seat behind me and Caden drops into the chair next to me.
Both give me almost feral grins. This would be a lot easier if any of these guys looked like meatheads or at least had a case of acne, maybe some scarring, but no, they’re perfect.
Tall, gorgeous, and dangerous. A teenage girl’s wet dream.
I’d like to say not mine, but let’s be honest. Who hasn’t had a wet dream about a guy they can’t stand, but is absolutely gorgeous? Yeah, that’s what I thought.
I stare at the book in my hands and refuse to look at either of them. But then someone sits in front of me. Oh, no, not just anyone. Eli.
He sits sideways in his chair, and his dark eyes take me in. My heart pounds so furiously I’m sure they can all hear it. My fear probably excites them. Assholes.
Eli snatches my book from me. My empty hands slap the desk, but I don’t try to get it back. I hope he likes historical romance. I should tell him to check out page 121, but I definitely don’t want to give him ideas.
Jack pokes me in the back with the capped end of his pen. “Hey, Harper.”
I draw in a deep breath and turn to him. Giving in today, at least during class, seems like the best idea. Maybe they’ll get sick of me not rising to their bait. “Yes?”
“So what kind of virgin are you?” He gives me a sly half grin.
“What do you mean?” Engaging is a bad idea.
I know it, but what else am I supposed to do?
If I ignore them, Luke will punish me, and god only knows what that means.
They’ve publicly humiliated students for years.
I’m sure they’ve got their technique down pat.
Of course, I tried to stay away from those public displays as well.
Sometimes innocent bystanders end up on display too.
“Are you a technical virgin?” Caden supplies. “You know. Done everything but the deed. Just haven’t had a thick cock filling your pussy?”
Okay, I can feel the heat and redness in my face. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
Eli drops my book on my desk, making me turn back around. He grabs my chin and holds me still. “Now, kitten, is that any way to talk to your owners?”
That makes me bristle, but I swallow down the anger. It’s early in the day. We still have to get through lunch, which is a fucking free-for-all. Now that they’ve caught my scent, I’m not sure I can hide from these beasts. I clench my teeth and meet Eli’s dark eyes as he tsks me.
He traces his thumb over my lower lip, sending sparks through me. “Some girls take a cock into their mouths and are still technically virgins if you count penetrative sex as losing your virginity.”
Something settles low and warm in my gut as his thumb traces back and forth. Even his words cause a brief flutter in my stomach. Maybe I’m more attention starved than I knew.
“But I’m guessing you’re the real deal, kitten.” He releases my chin.
I refuse to touch my tingling lip. “Real deal?”
Caden perks up. “Never been touched before.”
“Is that true, sweetheart?” Jack slides his finger up my spine to the nape of my neck. An involuntary shiver sweeps through me. “Have you been saving yourself for us?”
Eli drops his hand from the back of his chair to drag the backs of his fingers across my bare knees, along the edge of my skirt.
My lips part on a gasp. “Stop.”
His eyes light up. “Why, kitten? Afraid you’ll like it?”
What do I say to that? They won’t rape me, right? I mean, girls talk and no one has ever mentioned the R-word. It’s always been consensual. So what? They’ll just work at breaking down my defenses?
I don’t like these guys, so it shouldn’t be hard to put them off. Sure, they’re aggressive, but they wouldn’t do anything that would get them put in jail. They’re all eighteen. They wouldn’t risk it. Right?
Besides, it’s just this sudden focus on me that’s spinning me out. Things will settle and I’ll get used to them hanging around me.
“What about it, Harper?” Caden leans his elbows on his knees and looks up at me with those green eyes. “Are you untouched?”
I suck in my breath. It’s too much. I won’t last the day if they’re in all of my classes. I mean, I’m not going to give them my virginity, but they’ll continue to harass me.
“All right, class!” Ms. Ingrim gets everyone’s attention.
Caden gives me a sly smile before turning toward the front. The three of them have me surrounded against the window. They can’t enjoy being this close to the front. The teacher can keep track of whether or not they’re paying attention. Surely tomorrow they’ll return to the back of the class.
“These will be your seats for the semester,” Ms. Ingrim announces.
Jack leans forward. “Guess you’re stuck with us, sweetheart.”
After class, I get around them and leave for my third-period class. My phone buzzes in my bag, and as soon as I get to art, I pull it out. At least none of them should be in here.
WAR (Caden):
Answer the question
DEATH (Luke):
What question?
PESTILENCE (Eli):
Is Harper untouched or a technical virgin?
DEATH (Luke):
Answer
Me:
None of your business
DEATH (Luke):
Wrong answer
Fuck.
Kenz comes into the art room and takes the chair next to me.
“Are you okay?” She puts her hand on my arm and squeezes it, giving me that worried mom look. Like I’ve contracted a fatal disease—assholitis.
“No.” I hold out my phone so she can see the current conversation.
“Holy shit.” Kenz puts her hand over her heart. Then she bites her lip and looks around before saying, “Do you remember Rebecca Forester?”
“Didn’t she transfer after sophomore year?” I vaguely remember her. Rebecca was a nice and popular cheerleader. Not someone I talked to or hung out with.
“She was their pet project that year.” Kenz leans in as more people filter into the room. “She swore she was a good Christian girl and was saving herself for marriage. They tormented her that whole year until she finally gave in.”
“Why didn’t she just transfer schools earlier?” Homeschool is sounding better and better.
“They wouldn’t have let up. Once they have a pet project, they’re all in.” Kenz glances at my phone screen. “Just tell them, Harper. Maybe they’ll go easier on you if you play along.”
“Or it’ll make them ten times worse.” My phone buzzes in my hand. I sigh.
WAR (Caden):
Since it’s my question, do I get to hand out the punishment?
FAMINE (Jack):
I’m sure our girl will come through for us
DEATH (Luke):
You have five minutes
Four
Me:
Untouched
Shit. Shit. Shit. My heart is pounding. The bell rings and I glance around the room. Third period seems to at least be dick free.
“I’m sure it will be fine.” Kenz pats my back. “They’re assholes but not actual criminals.”
DEATH (Luke):
Good girl
Seriously? What am I? A dog?
Me:
Do I get to know your sexual experience?
PESTILENCE (Eli):
Experienced
I purse my lips at that answer. I guess I need to be more specific if I want to know, but why would I want to know? It’s not like I’m actually considering having sex with any of these assholes. They can make my last year of school hell, but like Kenz said, they aren’t actual criminals.
I drop my phone in my bag and pay attention to my favorite teacher, Ms. Sullivan. I’ve spent the last three years in one art class or another, which is why I know a horseman wouldn’t be in an advanced art class. So for at least one hour a day, I should have peace.
Of course, the next period could be the worst yet. Lunch.