Sneaky fucker.
Me: Are you stalking me again, Wy?
The bubbles show he’s already texting his reply.
Sneaky Devil ??: Can you stalk what belongs to you? It’s more protecting what’s mine.
Snorting, I begin to write back when Shay catches my attention. “Ah who dat?” Her knowing smirk says she already knows, but I humor her.
“You know it’s August. Who the hell else could it be? The only other person who ever texts me is here questioning me,” I sass.
“Oh, we need to change that. I say we go out soon. I know a spot in Hartford where we can dance all night.”
My phone vibrates again. I guess I didn’t respond fast enough.
Sneaky Devil ??: There will be no clubs for you, Riri, don’t make me get Karl.
How the hell did he hear that? I scan the halls again, still no sight of him. He truly is a sneaky fucker. My phone goes off again.
Sneaky Devil ??: You were warned.
Before I can text my response, there’s another incoming message from a number I don’t recognize.
Unknown: Are you being naughty, Angel?
Sneaky Devil ??: Yes, she’s being very bad. Let’s punish her. What do you think, O?
Oh shit. Heat travels the length of my body, my mind transporting me back to Shay’s house when I was trapped between their two bodies. What would it be like to be punished by them? I shiver at the thought.
Shay’s chuckles interrupt my fantasy. “Someone’s being bad.”
“Whatever, ho. There’s nothing wrong with a little imaginary Wy and Karl sandwich. A girl can dream, right?”
Finishing up at her locker, she full-on cackles. “You know I don’t judge. Rock out with their cocks out, my girl.”
Yup, a hundred shades of red, that’s what I am right now.
My phone buzzes again. I hug her, and we part ways.
“Ok, lady, I’ll meet you at your locker after school.”
Shaking my head in confirmation, I read the latest message.
Sneaky Devil ??: So you’re hungry? You want a sandwich, Love? O, should we give the lady what she requests?
Unknown: I feel like she’s been a lousy angel, so she should be punished.
Me: How the fuck do you guys know what’s being said? You’re not even in the hallway!
I’m just outside the door to the locker room when I get another text.
Unknown: Wouldn’t you like to know. Just know we’re always watching.
Me: That’s not ominous or anything. You know they have places for people like you two?
Unknown: Hush now, Angel. You’re ours to do whatever we want with.
That makes me roll my eyes before I text back.
Me: Fuck off! I belong to no one.
Sneaky Devil ??: Possession is nine-tenths of the law, and when we’re through, it will be ten-tenths because we will own every inch of you.
Fuck.
How does he say something so creepy but make it sound so hot? My phone goes off again, and I laugh, preparing myself for whatever madness they’ll say next, but the message isn’t from either of them.
Private: You’ve entered a game without knowing the score. Just know there’s no prize for you. Only death waits behind every door.
My face screws up in confusion at the terrible Mother Goose nursery rhyme. They didn’t even get the cadence right. Deleting the stupid message, I get changed, turning my phone on silent.
That’s enough of that. Placing my phone in my gym locker and slamming it shut, I head out to class.
* * *
Thank fuck classes are over, and now I can get the hell away from this madhouse. Class was the perfect escape, ninety minutes of focused movements to burn out my frustrations. Whether they were sexual or life frustrations has yet to be determined.
Approaching my locker, I see a crowd of students surrounding the area, and I already know I’m about to buck up some bullshit. I’m just not sure if it will be Sam’s or Rowan’s doing.
Parting the crowd, I see ‘gutter trash whore,’ scrawled in red paint. I puff out a groan. So much for working out my tension. My shoulder blades tense at the stupid paint job. This still could be either of those two assholes, though I’m leaning more toward Sam. This has her lame attempt at putting me in my place all over it.
My previous dismissals have done little to assuage her campaign against me. Samantha Davenport is not the brightest crayon in the box. I just can’t understand why she’s so determined to mess with me. I’m not trying to take her spot. She and Rowan can have the asshole crown they both desperately want.
I’m about a foot away when a god-awful scent kicks me in my face. I barely take a full breath, preventing the smell from fully assaulting me a second time.
“What the fuck!” I shout. Not only is this obviously not paint, but there are also used tampons sticking to the words. You must be a particular type of crazy to do something like this. My stomach churns as I fight off the nausea building, threatening to make an appearance.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.