Page 98 of Satan's Spawn

Archer’s eyes widen. “Fuck, no Bex that’s not it at all.” Archer stands before me, resting his hands on my slumped shoulders. “I’m shocked because it’s so out of character for him. Crayton never goes out of his way to pleasure a girl. The entire school knows he only fucks them from behind and never even allows them to finish. He doesn’t even allow girls to give him a blowjob.”

Alexis did mention something like this to him in Sampson’s room. “So he’s selfish too. Got it.”

“No, that’s not it.” Archer counters. “He doesn’t even allowhimselfto finish.”

“How the hell do you know this?” Hendrix questions.

“Girls in this school talk, duh. I’m not even sure the guy ever received a blowjob at all.” He puckers his lips. “At least not from a girl…”

Not from a girl?

“So he’s what? Been with guys?”

“It’s all speculation. I’m telling you, everything about Crayton is a mystery, other than being a psychopath. I don’t even think he has sex to feel good.”

My entire body freezes as I remember what I watched today in Sampson’s room. He wasn’t having sex with Alexis, he was punishing her.

Maybe he was punishing me, too.

“That’s why I can’t believe he actually tried to please you.”

Quite the understatement, what Crayton did to me was more like an out-of-body-experience. It doesn’t help my confusion, though. None of this does.

“You think you can do some digging? Try and find some information on him?”

Archer nods. “Of course, but listen, Crayton is merciless to those who defy him, and by that I mean he will not hesitate to burn your entire wardrobe for accidentally spilling a drink on his boot.” There’s something about this revelation that makes me feel like he’s speaking from first hand experience, but I don’t bother trying to find out, mostly because Archer is not done offering his impossible advice. “The best thing for you to do right now is not ruffle any feathers. You may even find out more about him by playing his game.”

Something about what Archer says sparks a realization inside me. As fucked up as Crayton is, he could’ve told everyone in that driveway about what I did with him, or taken all of my medication and left me with nothing for tonight. But, instead, he left me one more dose. I wouldn’t go and nominate him for a Nobel Peace Prize, or even a merit badge, but it at least proves he has some decency mixed with all that diablerie.

Crayton wants something from me, and if I have to get what I need from him by pretending to submit, well, then so be it.

* * *

I tossedand turned all night anticipating what I had to do this morning. It sucked. But I won’t let lack of sleep stop me from making sure I look damn good when I confront my tormentor and get my medicine back.

I took the time to curl waves into my hair this morning, making sure they are smooth and bouncy in all the ways I hope pisses Crayton off.

If it’s blondes he hates, I want to make sure to flaunt every single strand on my head in the most noticeable way possible.

I expected to spend my Sundays at Riverside catching up on school work, relaxing, or even doing some extracurriculars. Never thought my extracurriculars would involve trying to hunt down a madman with a thirst for blackmail and habitual violence.

Not much hunting is needed, because as much as Crayton’s been learning a slew of secrets about me, I’ve been picking up on some of his behaviors as well.

For instance, he’s a creature of habit.

Which is why I’m stomping down the hallway to the bathrooms by the lockers, dressed in a brand new pair of red Chuck Taylors, courtesy of Hendrix again.

They’re actually really cute, especially with the pair of jean shorts and white tank I’m wearing.

Just another way to piss off Crayton, since it seems this devil is part caveman too.

Pushing the bathroom door open, I fight back the urge to pat myself on the shoulder as Crayton leans against the wall by the window, smoking a cigarette of course.

“You stole my fucking Adderall?!” I screech when the door closes behind me.

“Good morning to you too, Rebecca.” He blows the smoke lazily out the window. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a baby.” I lie.