Page 11 of Make Me Scream (Visceral #2)

PERIS

Ever since I saw Abel’s face pale considerably, I fucking knew.

And then, I saw her.

She showed up here, of all places, not more than three rows behind Mom, her eyes never straying from Abel—so mine never fucking left hers.

And that was when the buzzer sounded, and I knew we lost the game against one of the shittiest teams of this season.

“Peris, what the fuck is wrong with you!” Gabe runs up to me, but I barely hear him over the ringing in my ears.

“I gotta go,” I mutter, shoving my way past him and the rest of the team that has gathered around me. Everyone groans and mutters, and I wince, knowing I’m letting them down, but I can’t right now.

I can’t. Not when she’s here trying to fuck everything up.

It’s not your time yet, bitch.

Ma’s already making her way down the bleachers, face pinched. I know that look. “What the fuck is she doing here?” I grit through my locked jaw. Her arms are crossed so tightly over her chest, I’m surprised she can even breathe.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think she could even be here, but Bill didn’t answer when I called. I’m hoping he gets my voicemail soon because I’m pissed, ” she hisses, eyes darting behind her, to who I know is making her way down the steps.

“I’m going to get Abel before she thinks she can,” I rush to tell Ma, already making my way toward him. “See you at home?”

“Yeah, baby.” She nods, her lips in a tight smile.

“Get my bag,” I shout over the noise of the crowd. She throws up a thumbs up, and I nod before spinning around and rushing up to Abel. He seems to be in a bit of a daze as I wrap my fingers around his elbow.

“Let’s get home, runt,” I lean down to murmur in his ear.

“What home,” he utters back, bitter and cold. I rear back, offended.

“Don’t fucking start right now,” I snap, yanking him into my side. The polyester material of his uniform rubs against mine, and I shiver.

“I never stopped, Peri.”

“Yes. You did,” I argue. Because he did. We did.

Right?

“That’s what you think.”

Why the fuck is he being like this right now?

“Don’t piss me off. We’ve gotta go.”

“You’re always pissed off,” he mutters. My eyes roll into the back of my head—and not in a good way.

“Just go get your fucking bag, would you?” I release his arm and cross mine over my chest. Surprisingly, he does as he’s told and waddles over and dips down, pert little ass sticking straight out as he grabs his ratty little backpack and slings it over his shoulder.

“Ready, boss.”

“Smartass.”

“Better than no ass.”

“Mmm, you don’t have much of one anyway, I guess,” I muse as we walk down the hall toward the front doors. Abel feigns a gasp, loud and echoing.

“How dare you?!” He leaps forward and twirls around, face twisting in a wince as he bends forward and arches his back in a perfect curve.

Creaks resound in the air from how hard my teeth grind together.

He turns and looks back at his own butt.

“Yeah, I think it’s all right. What do you think?

” He bats his darkened eyelashes, and my heart summersaults.

My hands reach out and graze the shaved sides of his head before twining my fingers into his French braids, tugging on the tiny ends that brush the edge of his neck. I yank harshly, drawing a hiss from his full lips before pulling him up on his tiptoes and bringing his mouth to mine.

I mold our lips together, relishing in the consummation of pain and confusion and alteration. Our usual rush of touch is slowed by something much deeper and more. Abel’s breaths and touches are slowed, his hands reaching up to cup either side of my face in a delicate hold.

When he strokes his thumbs along my cheek bones, I pull back, face burning and tingling. “Let’s get going before she finds us,” I rasp, bending down to rest my forehead against his.

He chuckles dryly, shaking me off. “Too late for that.” I rise up with a frown. He jerks his head to the left, and I follow the direction to find Lucy standing near the wall, watching us like some fucking weirdo.

I glare at her, eyes narrowed. “Fucking cunt.” I turn to Abel. “Let’s go home.” I grab his hand and walk out the door into the burning cold air, pretending I never even saw her and ignoring the fact my heart is about to beat out of my fucking chest because she saw me kissing my foster brother.

Our steps echo across the parking lot filled with cars and illuminated by yellow lights from the lamp posts. “Don’t sweat it. She probably doesn’t care,” Abel stutters.

I scoff. “ Probably. ” I rake my fingers through my hair and yank on the strands. “Jesus Christ.”

“Everything okay?” Ma’s voice sounds as we near my car, and I jolt out of my skin. Abel snickers, but it’s muted by his teeth clacking together.

I take my bag from Mom and unlock my car before reaching in to start it. “Get in,” I tell Abel while tossing him a hoodie. He catches it and yanks it on, muttering to himself as he slips inside and closes the door behind him. I roll my eyes, arms crossed over my chest.

“How’s he doing?” she asks, shivering a bit herself.

“He’s Abel, Mom. You know how he is.”

“So fine, but not fine.”

“Pretty much. We’ll meet you at home.”

“Okay, honey. Drive safe. Love you.” She leans over and kisses my cheek. I watch her walk to her car and drive off before getting in. Abel’s cranked the heat, and I sigh at the warmth that envelops me when the door latches closed.

My head drops back for a minute before I start the quick drive home.

Abel shatters the silence that had settled between us just before we arrive.

“Why do you think she was there?” he asks so quietly, I almost don’t hear him.

My eyes dart over to him, and I hate how small he looks—only because she made him look that way.

Normally, it doesn’t bother me. Abel is small, and he’s supposed to look it, but right now, with his face pinched and his body curled inward… it feels wrong somehow, and there’s no one to blame but her.

I open my mouth to spew hate, then close it, thinking about it for a minute. I pull in beside Ma’s car and shift into park, resting my twitching fingers on the gear shift. “Probably to unsettle us,” I answer honestly. It’s one of the only things I probably can be so honest about.

“Yeah,” he says after a minute. “You’re probably right.”

“Why? You think it’s something else?” I move my tapping fingers to dig my nails into the grooves of the steering wheel. The outside light brightens the car but not his ghastly pale face, which appears even more washed out than usual.

Abel clicks his tongue. “Nah.” And then, he’s out of the car and walking into the house, legs bent at a bit of an awkward angle. I stare at his retreating form for a few minutes before heading inside myself.

When I walk through the entryway, I find Abel curled up on the couch with a blanket pulled up to his neck. “Where’s Ma?” I ask, avoiding his eyes.

“In the kitchen,” he says as he flips through movie channels, acting like nothing is wrong when everything is fucking wrong.

I hate it so much, I can’t look at him.

I find Mom filling a few plates with snacks, from veggies and pretzels and crackers to lots of candies—many of which are Abel’s favorites. I raise my brows, and she shrugs. “Figured we could have a movie night. We haven’t had one of those in a while.” She worries her bottom lip.

“We just had one,” I tell her bluntly as I steal a gummy worm from the package.

She playfully smacks my hand. “Doesn’t count if we don’t have snacks.” She winks. “Now help me grab these.” I sigh dramatically but grab two of the three plates and follow Ma out to the living room. Abel sits up when he sees us coming, his eyes widening as he draws the blanket up to his chin.

“What’s all this?”

“Snacks.” Mom beams as we set the trays down on the coffee table. “For our movie night.”

“Movie night?” Abel drawls, looking up at me with big, wide eyes.

“Oh, I forgot drinks!” Mom rushes past and back into the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Abel asks in a rush.

“She’s trying to make you feel better,” I explain as I drop down on the cushion beside my runt with a handful of popcorn.

“Oh,” is all he says as he looks down at the array of snacks in front of him.

“Yeah, I know. Just… take a deep breath,” I tell him, brushing my knuckles down his bicep in a reminder just before Mom walks back in the room, multiple cans of pop in hand.

“Wasn’t sure what everyone wanted, so I grabbed a bunch.”

Abel blinks up at her, and goddamnit, I can see the tears in his eyes. He better not let them fall…

“Thank—" He clears his throat quickly. “Thank you, Elise. This is great.”

Mom beams, her eyes shining too, and Jesus fucking Christ, can we not?

“Of course, honey! Did you find a movie?”

“Oh.” Abel blushes prettily, and I can’t not stare.

“Uh, yeah. Is-is this okay?” He pushes play, but I don’t turn toward the screen.

My eyes are stuck on him and the flush that blooms across his high cheekbones and down his long, slender neck where it disappears beneath the border of the navy blue blanket.

“Absolutely! Peris and I used to watch this movie together all the time when he was a kid, didn’t we, buddy?”

“Huh?” I mutter when Mom’s elbow finds my ribs. “ All Dogs Go To Heaven. Damn, haven’t seen this in years.” I feel myself smiling. “This used to be my favorite.” For some reason, this makes Abel smile, and it’s all over for me.

Throughout the entirety of the movie, I find myself watching him more than the screen, the way his jaw clenches as he chews his favorite candies—picking through the bowl to find the green and sour ones first. How his throat rolls with each swallow, his Adam’s apple bulging deliciously.

His slender fingers pick at the fraying edge of the blanket, twining the loose threads around each digit absentmindedly, over and over and over until my skin is crawling watching the blood leave his fingers and flow back in, imagining it’s his dick and my fingers round it.