Page 30 of Make Me Scream (Visceral #2)

PERIS

“Well, our boy is leaving us!” Gabe shouts to the room at large, and I roll my eyes, even as I lift my beer into the air. I catch Abel’s smirk out of the corner of my eye and roll my eyes at him. “Congrats on the scholarship, buddy. You fucking deserve it!”

Resounding cheers echo around us, and I nod my thanks to the people that come up and give me congratulations, some slapping me on the back, others nudging me and nearly spilling my drink.

“You did it, man,” Gabe says as he comes up beside me some time later.

I shrug, feigning nonchalance, even though my heart still hasn’t settled since Abel turned toward me earlier with that stupid smirk on his crooked face and said, “And you doubted yourself like a moron.” Then, he shoved the papers into my chest and walked out of the bathroom, shouting at Mom to come congratulate me.

I haven’t really been alone since—and not with Abel. He hasn’t been avoiding me like he was, but it seems like every opportunity we have to be alone, there seems to be something that comes up, and other people find their way around us.

Like this party Gabe decided to throw me.

I’m pretty sure it was just an excuse for him to throw one, but free booze is free booze, I guess. And it gets me out of the house, where Mom has been suffocating ever since Abel left, constantly doting on me and wanting to be around twenty-four-seven when she’s not at work.

I understand she’s in pain and going through a loss, too, and after what we talked about… but space… I need some damn space before I lose my mind.

“You don’t seem in the partying mood,” he says, and I shrug again.

Abel saunters across the floor, a different colored Solo cup in his hand this time, and I narrow my eyes, watching the sway of his ass in his low-slung jeans, chains clanging with each step.

They’ve got more fucking holes than material, showcasing his pink boxers beneath and his many, many scars.

His shirt is tight and cropped, and it’s black with the word “faggot” written across it in pink, sparkly letters.

It matches well with the new pink, sparkling plugs he has in his ear lobes, which makes me narrow my eyes, wondering where the fuck all of these new clothes and shit has come from.

My fingers crush the cup in my hand in jealously, knowing other people can see those parts of him, the parts he needs to keep hidden.

“Peris, I wouldn’t.”

“No, fuck that.” I don’t realize I’ve said it out loud until I hear Gabe’s sigh. I chug the rest of my beer and thrust the cup at him before striding over to Abel and wrapping my fingers around the back of his neck. He freezes in his game of beer pong.

“Yes?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to peer up at me. His eyes are rimmed in black, lashes just as dark and longer than I’ve ever seen them. I swallow heavily, feeling a deep throb in my groin at how fucking hot he looks.

“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to stay calm.

I’m not feeling calm at all.

I’m feeling irrational and a bit crazed.

And I want to choke him. With my dick.

“What’s it look like?” he asks, lashes fluttering, lips parted with his breaths.

“Yo, Silver, let’s go.”

“Shut the fuck up. We’re talking,” I snap at whoever is trying to talk to my runt.

“Now, baby boy, don’t be rude. We’re playing a game that you interrupted.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Come here.” I snatch his arm and yank him toward the edge of the room, away from the masses of bodies and heavy conversations. He sighs loudly as his back slams into the wall, but he slumps against it all the same, willing me to maneuver him however I want.

“What, Peris?”

“What?” I parrot. “What do you mean, ‘ what’ ?”

Watching those gray irises roll makes me snap. I bend down and snatch his thick bottom lip between my teeth and bite down until I taste blood.

“Ow, what the fuck?” Abel mumbles, words muffled from my hold on him. I smirk, and when our gazes meet this close, we both go cross-eyed. “Let go,” he snaps the best he can.

“No.” I sink my teeth a little deeper, just to hear him hiss, and I relish in having the upper hand. My heart soars hearing his pain. It eases a bit of mine.

The roar of the crowd around us lulls into a dull rumble, easy to ignore with my runt’s pathetic little whimpers permeating my mind.

“Peris,” he whimpers, but it sounds more like “Pewis,” and I cave. I release him, swiping my tongue over his mouth before pulling back, licking at my own lips at the taste of copper.

“You drive me insane.”

“No shit,” he mutters as he drags his thumb over his freshly split lip.

A bead of blood wells on freshly bitten pink, causing my dick to twitch painfully.

I reach down to adjust myself in my jeans.

Abel’s eyes drop to the gesture, and he snorts.

“Really,” he deadpans. I don’t bother responding.

He knows what he does to me, at this point.

“What are you doing, Peris?” Abel asks after a minute, slumping back against the wall with a dull thud.

He lets his head fall back as well, and I relish in the way his braids curl around his shoulders, exposing the shaved sides of his head.

His heavily pierced ears sparkle in the lights, and my fingers twitch at my sides to reach out and touch each and every one of them.

“What are you doing, Abel?” I snap.

“I’m playing a game,” he retorts easily, crossing his arms over his chest, lips curling into a smirk. He knows what he’s doing, the little fucker.

“Yeah,” I agree. Always playing a fucking game. “You’re ignoring me,” I add last minute, regretting it the second the words leave my lips, and his face splits into a smile so wide, I can see every fucking tooth inside his mouth.

“ Ohhhh, ” he drawls slowly, pushing away from the wall and stepping closer. My breath hitches when he places his hands on my chest and digs his painted fingernails in. “Am I, baby boy?”

“Don’t fucking play with me, runt,” I manage to spit out through gritted teeth, my eyes narrowed. My breaths come out stilted, and I’m dizzy.

“Why not? You love it when I play with you,” he drawls, dragging his nails down my abs until his fingers skim the waistband of my jeans and tuck themselves just inside to start a slow drag back and forth.

“In a room full of people?” I ask, but I don’t take my eyes off him, even as the music seems to get louder and the hum of speech magnified.

“You’re not an exhibitionist?”

“No, Abel,” I snap, nostrils flaring as I reach out and curl my fingers of my left hand around his bicep. “I’m not.”

“Shame,” he sighs, and I growl. “You’ve seemed to prove otherwise…”

“Don’t piss me off.”

“I thought you were already pissed off?” he muses, lips curling inward to hold back a laugh.

“Keep it up, runt, and I’ll fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Abel raises his brow and purses his thick lips. “You talk a big game.”

My smile drops from my face in the next second, and I grab his arm. “Let’s go.”

“W-what?” he asks on a shaky laugh, stumbling as I pull him along with me. I stomp to the front door, heading toward my car. “Peris, where are we going?”

“We’re leaving,” is all I say.

“But your party?—”

“I don’t give a fuck about the party, Abel.”

“Yo, Baxter, where the fuck are you goin’?”

Abel’s footsteps slow at the sound of Gabriel’s voice, and I barely hold back my growl of frustration.

I throw my head back with a sigh and turn around, keeping my grip on Abel.

“Got some shit to take care of,” I tell him as he walks up to us, cocking my head toward my puppy.

Abel just smirks slyly when Gabe glances at him, making him flush, and I snort, despite my frustration.

“You’re really leaving the party I threw for you to go fuck?”

“Yep,” Abel pops the “P,” and I roll my eyes and pinch his arm, making him yelp. “Hey, rude!” he snipes, and I smirk.

“My bad,” I deadpan.

“Boy, boys,” Gabriel drawls.

“Look, thank you for the party. I appreciate it and you, but I’ve gotta go.”

“Yeah… I’m sure you do,” he says as he looks between me and Abel, one dark brow arched and a smirk playing at his lips.

“Oh, fuck you,” I mutter and shove past him, Abel in tow.

“You know, I’m pretty sure he’s gonna fuck me in his car. It’s gonna be dirty and hot and—” I reach over and slap my hand over Abel’s mouth, muffling his words, even as he keeps talking. Gabe’s face is alight with the brightest fucking smile I’ve ever seen, and I want to smack it off his face.

“Shut the fuck up, Abel,” I snap, keeping his hand pinned as I lead us out of the house, Gabe following slowly behind.

“Have fun, boys,” he drawls as I flip him off. I yank open the passenger door and shove Abel in.

He drops down into the seat with a huff. “Don’t have to be so rude.”

“Shut up. You like rude.” Then, I slam the door in his face.

“The park.” he says, arching a brow. “How predictable are you?”

“I didn’t think you would fucking care,” I snap, hating how defensive I feel, heat prickling along my face and down my neck as I shift the car into park. It’s pitch-black outside with snow covering the grass and piled along the court, having been weeks since it’s last been used.

I stare out into the dimly darkness, at the glistening crystals of the snow, at the red rims of the hoops, and the faded white backboards until my headlights shut off, and we’re swarmed in it. Abel’s surprisingly quiet through all of this, and it makes me ache to know what’s going through his mind.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

He scoffs, the sound quiet and riddled with something I recognize but can’t quite name. “You don’t want to know.”

“I promise you, I do.” I glance over at him, trying to enunciate my sincerity, but I must not do a good enough job because he laughs in my face.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Peris. That’s not fun for anyone.”

I run my tongue along the fronts of my teeth. “Who says I can’t keep it?” I ask as I lean my arm into the window, relishing in the coolness of the condensation seeping into my skin.

“Me.”