Page 41 of The Villain's Beast
I needed time before going back after him. The adrenaline from the initiation ceremony was finally wearing off and every bone in my body ached from the weight of holding me up. Not to mention the agonizingly fresh scar in the middle of my chest. I had no idea how to treat a burn of this caliber, but I’d have to pay it some attention sooner rather than later. I didn’t want it to get infected, though maybe if it did, I wouldn’t have to spend the rest of my life looking at it.
Leaving the tray on the counter, I made my way to the first floor bathroom and flipped on the light. It was bright white, which was bad enough, but the shadows it cast beneath my eyes and around the corners of my mouth couldn’t have all been artificial. The five-petaled rose in the center of my chest was a bloody mess, as crimson as the image on the society crest, but very real and emblazoned in my flesh instead.
“A reminder,” my father had told me over the summer, “that it’s the blood of men like us that make this real.”
I didn’t feel real.
As if the brand itself wasn’t enough, tonight in the clearing was the first time I’d talked to Fletcher since he’d failed me out of our first year English class at Rose Hill Prep. I’d always foundhim to be larger than life, in the way he carried himself, in the way he’d made me want him, but he’d actually finally grown into it. Fletcher was so muscular, I had no doubt in my mind what it would feel like for him to put his hands on me again, the way he had so many years ago. I imagined his palms would carry more calluses now. Lord knew I carried my own scars, but still…
Fuck, I hated him.
Flipping off the light, I retrieved the tray, cursing him—and his offering—under my breath as I made my way back up the stairs. I’d put Bellamy in a room that had an automatically-engaged lock, which would only be triggered open from turning the outside handle or if you carried a special FOB tag, so I wasn’t worried about him being anywhere besides where I’d left him when I got back because I was the only one with the FOB.
I knocked my shoulder into the door to announce myself, then twisted the handle and stepped inside…right onto the pile of Bellamy’s discarded and dirty clothes. The door swung closed behind me and latched shut, casting the room back into darkness. The only light on was the one in the bathroom, spilling out onto the carpet. Wet footfalls echoed from the black marble floor, then it was two bare feet, two wet legs, one very hard and very pink cock, and then…
“Thanks for knocking,” Bellamy said, corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.
“I did.”
“Not loud enough.”
I huffed a frustrated breath, setting the tray of food down on the nightstand and turning to go. There was no way I was going to be verbally berated by a fucking nobody. Not with my flesh seared raw by the brand and my heart torn open by Fletcher Sinclair, and not by a nameless initiate who didn’t have the common sense to stay dressed.
“Can I have some clean clothes?” Bellamy asked, undeterred by my intent to leave.
“You have clothes. I stepped on them on my way in.”
“Great,” he said. “Can’t wait to put those dirty pants back on and crawl into these nice clean sheets.”
“Sleep naked,” I told him, stepping on his pile of clothes again. The clothes he’d worn when Fletcher fucked him.
“Does it ever get exhausting?” he asked when I reached the door.
“Does what get exhausting?”
“Being such a prick.”
“What gets exhausting,” I explained, yanking open the door and stepping into the hallway, “is all the time I spend trying to convince people who don’t believe the rumors about me that it’s the truth. Have the night you deserve, Bellamy.”
Chapter 29
Fletcher
The night air did nothing to calm my nerves. The walk across campus didn’t either. I’d thrown five rocks up at the attic window of Rose Hall before the light turned on, and three more before Gideon yanked open the window.
Somehow, he knew exactly where to look. He knew right where to find me.
I gestured for him to come down, and he slammed the window closed. The light stayed on, but less than five minutes later his angry footfalls over the fallen leaves and grass grew louder, and then his hands were in my shirt, my back was against a tree, and there was no air in my lungs. Steadying my hands on his trim waist, I closed my eyes and let my exhale tremble against his chin as I breathed. He adjusted his grip on my shirt, giving me another rough shove against the trunk of the oak tree. It hurt, the bark digging into the still open wounds from the whipping Daren had given me earlier, but the pain was the least of what I deserved when it came to Gideon North.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“I go to school here.”
“You know what I meant.” Another press against the tree and a fresh trickle of blood ran down my back, pooling in the dips above my ass.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, slowly blinking my eyes open. Gideon had gotten so tall, so mean. “I never know what I’m doing when it comes to you.”
He didn’t like that, letting out a dismissive sound and pushing me away from him. But instead of heading back to the house, he went deeper into the woods. Of course, I went after him…just like I’d gone after him before.