Evil Boys: Chapter 5
The nerve in my neck twitches as I glare around at all the people dancing, wondering where he is, and without a second thought, I start tearing off people’s masks in an effort to reveal him. Everyone looks at me like I’ve gone insane, but I don’t care.
“Where are you?” I say to the next dude as I rip off his mask. “Is it you?”
“Hey, get your hands off me—”
“Lana!” Irina calls from across the room as she makes her way toward me. “What’s going on?”
My gaze flickers between the random dude in front of me, who was just trying to dance with his girlfriend, and Irina, who seems unaware of what went down on the dance floor between me and the handsome killer.
But I know.
I know what kind of man had his hands all over me, and I’m not about to let him get away with it.
I storm out of the ballroom, seething and scared to death. Whoever he was, that guy who spun me around his finger and tongue with ease knows my darkest secret.
I have no choice but to kill him now.
I gaze around the room, searching for him amidst the chatting people and near the liquor table, but I don’t see him there. I do see someone in a suit bolting upstairs. And his pace looks suspiciously irate.
I go for the pursuit, pushing my way through people, keeping a keen eye on the guy, but he’s slipping away fast, and I can’t catch up. I accidentally bump into someone while peering at the top banister.
“Lana?” Jason’s familiar voice makes me turn my head away from the guy.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
“You okay? You seem upset,” he asks. “Did someone rob you too?”
I frown. “Too?”
“I just went to the wardrobe section, and my Valentino bag’s gone,” he says. “I figured someone might’ve taken it.”
“Should’ve carried it with you then,” I tell him. “Look, I gotta go.” I walk past him.
“Where are you going?” he asks. “Don’t you want your drink?”
“Later,” I reply, but I’m gone before he can say anything else. “Sorry. Excuse me,” I mutter as I wade through the people and head for the stairs.
I skip a couple of steps and make my way to the top. There’s an extended hallway all around with doors every other step, as well as more hallways up ahead. Where could he have gone? The whole place feels like a maze, and the more time I waste walking around, the easier it is for him to get away.
Goddammit.
I’m sure I saw him slip into this hallway. I rummage the nearest door but it’s locked, same for the next one. The third gives way, and I open it up. It’s a small pool room with bookcases lining the walls and a fireplace in the back along with green satin chairs. The whole place looks like it came straight out of a gentleman’s club.
I look around, but no one is in the room except me. But the sounds … it’s nothing like the party downstairs. Almost as if something is going on in the room next door. I follow the sound and approach the wall, putting my ear to it.
WHACK!
I lean away and frown.
What the hell was that?
Another whack follows along with a sharp yelp, and I touch the wall looking for a way in, but all I find is a hole. A hole large enough for at least one eye to peek through. And I can’t fucking help myself as I lean in closer, wondering if it’s him.
The room is filled to the brim with metal clasps, wooden benches, and racks filled with whips, canes, floggers, ropes, and constriction devices.
I gasp.
In the corner is a cage, a human-sized cage, and inside, one suited-up guy is whipping another guy who is on his knees with his shirt off. Red streaks mark his back.
My eyes widen.
What is happening?
“Having a little sneak peek?”
The voice behind me makes me spin on my heels.
A guy in a mask stares me down, his eyes hidden by a drape of dark brown hair, but the suit, and that voice … it’s definitely him.
I reach for my heels and fish my knife out of the side, unfolding it with one click.
I throw it right when the light is turned off.
CLING!
The metal of the blade clatters against a frame.
Fuck. I missed.
I never fucking miss.
But it’s impossible to aim in the dark.
“Show yourself!” I growl. “Who are you?”
“You still have two guesses left.” His low voice is commanding and chill-inducing.
My nostrils flare, and I reach for the second knife in my heels. My last weapon. My last shot to get him before he gets me.
I hold it close, ready to strike.
“Answer me!” I yell.
“You’re just as violent as I remember,” he muses from across the room.
So he is one of the three guys I met at that fucker’s house.
I want to throw my knife so badly, but if I do, I’ll have forfeited my last shot to get him. And if I miss … I’m fair game.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you,” I growl.
“Oh, now you’re talking my love language. C’mon, then. Give me your best shot,” he taunts, bolting at me fast.
But as I attempt to throw, he comes out of nowhere and grips my wrist. Within a second, he’s got me pinned, and he pries the knife from my hand.
Enraged, I punch him, but he avoids my first hit like an expert.
So I lift my knee and kick him right in the stomach.
He groans and bucks, so I try to throw in another punch, but he grips my throat out of nowhere and pushes me up against the wall. His hand snakes around my neck so tightly I can barely breathe. I scratch at his fingers, desperate to get loose.
“Third try, kitty,” he murmurs near my ear. “Who do you think I am? Think fast.”
I groan from the sheer force applied to my neck. “Fuck you.”
A faint, rumbling laugh emanates from deep within his chest. “I get the sense that you don’t want to admit that you were there …” His fingers dig into my skin as he leans in to whisper. “That you killed that disgusting man.”
“You following me around?” I hiss.
He smiles against my skin. “You make it so easy to find you … when you wear that ribbon.”
He plucks it from my hair, and I suck in a breath as it drops to the floor.
So he’s the one who stole my ribbon that night. And that means those three definitely go to school here too.
Fuck. Just my luck.
“What do you want?” I rasp.
“You stole our kill.” He pronounces each word deliberately like he’s trying to make me feel guilty. But I don’t feel remorseful at all.
“Your kill?” I scoff. “Sorry, I didn’t know I had to get in line.”
He leans in and whispers, “Jokes won’t get you far, Lana.”
Lana.
My eyes widen, and my heart skips a beat. “How the fuck do you know my name?”
“That’s not the question you should be asking,” he murmurs. “What you should be asking is ‘how can I stop this man from telling the world about my murderous habits’?”
“Fuck off!” I try to break free from his grasp, but he’s much stronger than I am.
“Ah, ah … you won’t get away this time,” he murmurs.
“You think I want to get away?” I muse. “I came looking to kill you.”
He smiles against my skin. “God, I love your tenacity.” He slowly invades my space, pushing his body up against me until I can feel his thick thighs rub up against mine, his bulge growing harder and harder. “Your desire to kill me only gets me hard.”
“Fuck you,” she growls.
“Oh, I will fuck you, all right,” he says, and his tongue dips out to lick the rim of my ear. “And you will definitely moan when I bore my way through that wet little pussy of yours.”
“You wish.” I can feel my pussy throbbing between my legs, but I ignore it.
“I know violence gets you going,” he whispers. “I can feel your heartbeat pick up, Lana.”
“Don’t—”
“Don’t what? Call you by your name?” He leans away. “I think you know as well as I do that we’re well past introductions now.”
God-fucking-dammit, I wish I could see him more than anything.
“You know my name. Now give me yours,” I say.
He snorts. “I’ll give it to you …” Suddenly, I feel something cold underneath my chin. A blade. Mine. “After you come for me.”
What? Did he just…?
Oh my fucking God, the arrogance!
“Fuck you, I would never—”
He removes his hand from my wrist, the knife still at my throat like an imminent and very clear threat.
If I move, I die.
But his hand slowly lowers down my arm, smoothing along my body, and every single one of my senses is awakened against my wishes. A rumbling groan escapes his mouth as he cups my breast, the sound so low and gravelly it brings goose bumps to my body.
And I don’t understand why my body has this reaction.
Why I feel the need to lean into his touch.
Fuck, what is wrong with me?
Don’t let him do this.
But the second my muscles twitch, the blade pushes farther into my skin.
“Don’t even think about it,” he says, his voice so dark it makes me gulp.
He moves farther down my dress until his hand is right between my legs, making me feel needy, twisted, and debased.
“You like that, don’t you?”
“You’re a—”
The knife pushes even farther into my skin until I’m forced to tilt my head back. “Don’t insult me when the fun is just about to begin, kitty.”
“Don’t call me that,” I say through gritted teeth.
But his finger pushes down on my slit, and I’m having a hard time staying put.
“Don’t call you what?” he murmurs, rubbing my clit through my dress. “A violent little kitty?”
“Ridiculous,” I scoff, but his fingers keep working me, and it’s hard not to breathe puffy breaths. I hate to even think about how damp I’m already becoming.
Stop it, Lana, don’t even think about getting wet.
“No, what’s ridiculous was thinking that cat mask would protect you from being found,” he says, his hand slipping down farther until he reaches the bottom of the dress near my thighs, and his fingers creep underneath. “But I found you. And now I’m going to have so much fun with you.”
“Get your hands—”
RIP!
My panties are torn apart, ripped at the seam, and he chucks them aside.
“On this needy pussy?” He cups my pussy like he owns it, and I suck in a breath.
With the knife, he forces me to tilt my head and leans in to whisper into my ear, “What would your brother say if he found you here, Lana?”
What?
How does he know who my brother is?
Who is this guy?
“Would he berate you for coming to one of our parties?” I’m acutely aware of the sharp blade traveling down my neck until the point of the knife stops near my heart. “Would he still love you if he knew what you truly are? A cold-hearted murderer.”
My pupils dilate at the thought of my brother discovering what I’ve been doing in my spare time. And not only that but also for him to hear it from this fucker’s mouth. “You wouldn’t.”
Felix doesn’t know, and there’s no way this guy—
“You don’t have proof,” I blurt out, trying to ignore his fingers as they press against my slit again, slowly swirling around as if to lull me into submission.
“Don’t I?” He smiles against my ear while he plays with me. And even though I don’t want his fingers there, I’m slowly getting wetter and wetter. “Are you willing to take that chance, kitty?”
I swallow as the blade reaches the top of my dress, my nipples peaking against the fabric.
“Don’t. Don’t involve my brother,” I grit.
“Maybe your father, then?”
I hold my breath. Fuck. Not him.
“No.”
“What are you willing to sacrifice?” His low voice and breath linger in my ear. “How far are you willing to go to keep your dirty little secret?”
His voice is maliciously dark and laced with desire, and I can’t help but moan when he circles around achingly slow. And the knife slowly pushes down the lace dress over my breasts until they spill out of their cups, exposing me. A low, humming groan emanates from his body as the tip of the knife circles across my nipples. My knife. And for some reason, I feel like he wants me to know that.
“How much are you willing to bleed?”
I suck in a breath when he punctures my skin right above, warm blood oozing down across my nipples.
I shouldn’t let him do this, but what fucking choice do I have?
I’m out of weapons, and he stops me whenever I try to move.
Not to mention the disgraceful amount of desire pooling between my legs, distracting me from what I was supposed to do.
“Now make your choice, little kitty. What’s it going to be?” he whispers. “Keep your secret or your body?”
It feels like electricity sparks between us, magnetizing every inch of my skin that touches his.
“Secret.”
It’s out before I know it, but the choice can’t be undone, and I know full well what it will cost me.
A hint of a smile tugs at his lips. I can’t see it, but I can feel it against my skin. “Good choice.”