Chapter 31
“Are you okay after last night?” I asked her as she lined up at the breakfast buffet for toast, as her friends were watching me closely with those judgy eyes.
I didn’t care if she told them what we did to her last night, but because she's quite a proud girl, I suspect she didn’t say anything or modified the story.
I walked her back to Morgana, well, I tried to walk her back to Morgana, but she was so enraged that he started waving her knife around, threatening to chop my cock off and shove it down my throat, then ran ahead in the dark.
Yeah, we really fucked her off, but hopefully she got the message loud and clear about what we wanted from her.
Adina swung her head in that way that only a pissed off woman could, and her ponytail brushed against my arm, and I had to use immense control not to touch her. Yep, she was doing the silent treatment, pretending I didn’t exist, yet hoping that I would die.
She disappeared into the crowd to avoid me, but I hissed at a girl who was my way, and she shrieked and immediately moved.
“You can’t avoid me forever,” I whispered as she placed a piece of wholegrain toast into the toaster and grabbed a pot of chopped fruit and yoghurt. Then she swung her ponytail at me again as she swiftly turned away to pour a cup of coffee.
“Wait. Adina, let me buy you a decent cup in Scholars?” Maybe a cappuccino could persuade her to speak to me.
Nope.
I was in the bin. With the lid down.
She wanted no part of this conversation, and no part of me, and that kinda cut a little. The little stint last night was fun until I saw how it hurt her and, more surprisingly, how it bothered me that we were inflicting pain on her.
I gave up trying to talk to her and turned my back to walk away as I passed the table where her friends were seated.
I snarled and barked loudly, making them jump.
Objective complete. It still gave me great pleasure to do that to unsuspecting citizens or anyone who dared to get in my way.
Fuck, I might be warming to a particular girl, but I never said I was sane.
A piercing ring tone cut through the murmurs of conversation, the tinkering of plates. Normally, I wouldn’t notice, but on this day, something made me look back to see whose phone it was.
My boots froze as my gaze latched onto the pretty girl with the black, curly ponytail. She had the phone pressed against her ear, and the color ran from her already pale cheeks.
I watched her closely, nodding, barely speaking, shoulders tensing, and it appeared to be someone she wasn’t friendly with. Her eyes lifted and locked onto my gaze, and never once did she flinch.
It was then that I knew who the caller was.
I left the dining hall and messaged Sick and Ez: Police have contacted her.
A reply didn’t come in until I was almost at Scholars, and it was a call from Ez.
“Sup?” I expected him to ask about the phone call Adina received from the police and maybe be a little anxious about it.
“Where are you?” he blurted bluntly as the sound of drawers being opened and slammed shut played out in the background.
“Have you lost something?” I assumed.
“Yeah, the gun,” he barked, stressed. “I lost the fucking gun. It was in my second drawer. I’ve looked in every drawer and in my closet, and I can’t find it. Have you shifted it?”
“No. Bro, why the fuck would I shift it?” he thundered about, heavy footsteps on the floor.
“I don’t know, maybe you wanted to borrow it for target practice,” he ranted.
“With police around?” I asserted. “Have you asked Sick. Maybe he moved it.”
“I messaged him five minutes ago, and he hasn’t replied yet. I think he might be at the gym,” he was starting to calm a little as it was most likely Sickle who took it, but Ezrah had been known to be careless about such things. “How is Stabby?”
“Pissed,” I replied honestly. “Really pissed. She won’t speak to me, so…”
“It was a good little jaunt last night.” The constant banging and rustling in the background had stopped, and his tone was more relaxed, but he was stressed.
If that gun ended up in the wrong hands, then it might be over for u.
“I wouldn’t mind doing that again, but next time, I’ll actually fuck her. ”
“Yeah, I’m not sure if she’d let you near her after last night,” I informed him as he seemed oblivious to how much we pissed her off. Jeezus, he’s been around women before; therefore, he must know what it took to upset them.
“Wait. Sick just messaged me. I’ll get back to you,” he told me, then swiped off.
I joined the back of the queue at Scholars, and a message came through on my phone from Ez: It’s gone.
I swiped to call him, and he picked up instantly. “What the fuck are you on about?” I was aware I was surrounded by people, and stepped out of the queue and went back outside, finding a quiet corner.
“Sick said he took it out of my drawer and hid it under his mattress,” his tone had reverted to panic again. “It’s not there. I’m standing in his room. I’ve pulled the entire mattress off his bed, and it’s not fucking there.”
“Did you tell Sick?” I asked him.
“Not yet.” Then said “fuck’ under his breath. “He told it was under his bed, but it’s not there.”
“Do you want me to come up there and help you find it?” I offered as my ears were hit with a crashing sound followed by a loud, “Fuck! Was that…?”
“His chest of drawers. I just knocked them over,” he snarled, angry at himself.
“The fuck?”
“I think we’ve seriously fucked up, bro,” he stated.
“We? This has nothing to do with me,” I reminded him.
“Whoever got hold of the gun might use it against us, so it does involve you,” he growled, raising his voice, then lowering it again.
“Just calm the fuck down, bro. Go ask your roommates if they’ve seen anyone go up to your room?” I said steadily. “Then call me back.”
“Okay. Fine.”
As soon as I swiped off, I stepped back into Scholars and noticed the bright blond hair of the York brothers sitting in the corner with their mates, glaring at me, wearing smirks as if someone had cracked a joke that I wasn’t privy to.
In response to their cringy expressions, I rubbed my forehead with my middle finger, but kept my gaze on James York to intimidate the yappy lapdog.
Declan, the older brother, was one of Sick’s teammates, wasn’t as bad as James, but both were fuckwits.
Obviously, we didn’t torture him enough and might need to snatch him for another session with the electric drill.
Torturing James York was the most fun I’ve had in I while, excluding every moment I spent with the Boleyn girl.
Finally, it was my turn to step up to the counter and place my order, then as I waited for my coffee to be made, I strategically stood over the York’s table with my arms folded, looking down at them.
“How’s that gash on your arm?” I mocked, not giving a shit about the fact that there were five of them and one of me.
“Fucken mad cunt,” he snarled.
“That’s right. And don’t you forget it, Yorkie,” shooting them a bit of snarling and yapping like a lapdog as all eyes were on me as if I was insane, and I was cool with that.
When my number was up, I grabbed my black coffee just as James York slammed into me, “I didn’t see you there,” he sniggered with his mates like a bunch of halfwits spun out on coke.
Luckily, it was in a takeaway cup with a lid, so it spilled only a little and dribbled down the side, burning my hand.
“Whoa,” I mocked, “Tough boy. You’ll be in diapers, drinking your coffee through a straw once I’m done with you,” I warned him in front of an audience.
“Sure, Madcunt,” he bellowed his new name for me. I think it was supposed to be an insult. Personally, I quite liked being called Madcunt.
“Didn’t we shrink your balls enough, Yorkie? Don’t worry, we can always come back for seconds,” I was coming back, bringing back glorious memories of him flinching when I hurt him with the spinning drill bit. “Next time, we’ll record you screaming like a piglet.”
Ignoring my poke, he said with that smirk, “Have a good time last night?” Then cocked his eyebrows.
I cringed at his question, suspecting that it was a loaded comment. Last night? Last night? “Yeah? So? Why the fuck would you care?”
Then he leaned in, and all I wanted to do was wipe that smile off his face with my fist. In a slimy tone, “When you and the Warwick were with,” a deliberate pause, “the Boleyn girl.”
He sniggered as they walked away, and I shrugged it off, not giving a damn if they saw us. So what? On the outside, it looked like we were having a bit of fun with Adina, but in reality, we were giving her a taste of what was to come if she didn’t obey us.
Whatever. He acted like he stumbled across some dark and clandestine affair. We’re all single consenting adults.
It was obvious Adina enjoyed herself until we stopped.
The way she was yearning for us to continue to finish her off was like light to my shade.
She was so hungry, desperate for our cocks to penetrate her, and fuck she got me hard.
Her body was grinding against my cock as I held her body tight, wrapped in her sweet lemony scent, drawing out lusty sighs and horny cries.
Fucking great. The best.
But as my mind switched back to what James York implied and there was something in his sly tone.
And the more I thought about it, the more I suspected the Yorks were up to no good and might spring something on us as retribution for tormenting James with the electric drill.
That was his fault for worming his way into Adina’s bed.
Trying to fuck Adina was a line they didn’t want to cross. She was ours to possess.
Bring it on, fuckers. It won’t be the first Warwick versus York battle, and it won’t be the last.