Kings of Quarantine: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep Book 1)

by Caroline Peckham

  “I won’t be needing that,” I said, snatching the full bottle from his grip and bringing it to my lips.

  The oaky taste of the whiskey spilled over my tongue and I pushed away from the drinks table as I headed back towards the other side of the room where Blake was working on shattering Tatum’s little miss innocent act in a spectacular way.

  Hell, if I wasn’t going to fuck her myself, I could still watch the show for a while and get a real idea of what she’d be like.

  Saint was still sitting on the other end of the couch as I approached but he got to his feet as the spinning bottle landed on him, completely ignoring the girl in question as she batted her eyelashes at him hopefully.

  “C’mon, asshole, there’s something I wanna show you,” he said, jerking his chin to get me to follow him.

  We circled the couch and Tatum looked up from her perch in Blake’s lap like she felt my eyes on her.

  I gave her a taunting smile before letting my eyes slide down to her hardened nipples which were pressing through the thin dress now that she’d ditched the underwear. She slid off of Blake’s lap, holding a hand out to him as she made a show of not giving a shit about me one way or another. But that spark in her eyes said she gave a shit alright. She didn’t like to be made a fool of and for a moment I could have sworn she had ideas of revenge glimmering in those endlessly blue eyes.

  Bring it on, baby.

  Saint led the way out of the room and up the stairs to the balcony outside.

  “Fuck off,” he snapped at a group of juniors who were hanging out here and they ran to do as they’d been told, flooding around us like a wave breaking over a rock.

  The door fell shut behind them and we were left with the thumping bass of the music and an empty balcony.

  “If you’ve brought me out here to suck my cock, then I would have preferred to do it in the warm somewhere,” I joked, taking a swig from my whiskey bottle as I moved to take a seat in one of the huge wooden chairs that sat on the balcony.

  Saint eyed me for a long moment, his gaze slipping over my black jeans, leather jacket and the blood red T-shirt beneath it which had a tear in it. It was fucking perfect. Saint bait. He knew it. I knew it. A hole in my shirt. Classic.

  He moved to stand over me, jaw ticking, gaze slipping to my drink with distaste. He’d given up on trying to stop me drinking from the bottle a long time ago but he clearly still hated it.

  “Want some?” I offered, swirling the bottle so the amber liquid sloshed over my fingers. I licked that shit off quickly. Waste not want not.

  “We need to talk about Blake,” Saint said, ignoring my offer as he took the chair opposite me.

  “Is that so?” I asked, tipping more whiskey down my throat.

  “He’s not dealing with his mom’s death,” Saint said.

  “It’s up to him if he wants to bury it,” I said with a shrug. “And it looks like he’ll be burying it real good tonight,” I added with a dirty grin.

  Saint’s gaze tightened at that suggestion and he blew out an irritated breath.

  “A good fuck might distract him tonight, but it isn’t going to make any difference to tomorrow.”

  “I guess that depends on how much energy she’s got,” I joked.

  “Can you ever just take something seriously?” Saint growled, giving me the alpha vibes. But I didn’t answer to him. I might have fallen in with his shit most of the time, but that was because I gave no fucks about it. Didn’t make him the boss of me.

  “What even is serious?” I asked. “I mean, we’re born, we cry, we lie, we fuck, we die. The rest of it’s just speed bumps along the road.”

  “That sounded like the world’s shittiest poem spoken by the world’s most boring asshole,” he replied.

  I cracked a smile at that. “Fine. What do you want to do about it? Hold a séance? Sing Kumbaya, My Lord every morning while holding hands in a prayer circle? Or do you wanna go really deep and ask him to talk to us about his feelings?”

  “Fuck that,” Saint said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m not looking to waste my time on that shit. Blake can deal with his grief himself. What he needs is an outlet for his rage.”

  I sat up at that, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees as I gave this idea my full attention. Crying and grieving and moping weren’t listed in my book of interests, but rage? I was all over that baby with an aching hard on and all the moves to satisfy it.

  “So what’s your plan?” I asked, because Saint didn’t make suggestions without thinking them through. He’d been back and forth over this idea with a fine-tooth comb, sounded out each avenue, thought through all the ways it could go wrong.

  “I’m still working on it. But Blake’s not wired like you; beating the shit out of some asshole won’t give him what he needs. He’s going to need more than that. Someone he can destroy in every thinkable way, a carcass he can come back to again and again to tear more strips off of them.”

  “That’s fucked up, man,” I said, scraping a hand over my jaw as I smiled. “So who are we picking for the sacrifice?”

  Saint’s lips twitched. “That’s the bit I’m working on. It needs to be someone who won’t just roll over. Someone who will need to be broken again and again and again.”

  “Sounds like a tough position to fill,” I murmured, my mind wandering over the fuckwits who went to school with us. Most of them were pussies who wouldn’t stand up to us once, let alone repeatedly.

  “Leave that to me. I’ll find someone. But in the meantime, I need you to help me keep him distracted or he’s gonna explode in an uncontrolled way,” Saint said, catching my eye to drive the point home.

  “Doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world to me,” I replied. I’d quite like to see the golden boy go supernova and fuck shit up.

  “Yeah, well some of us care about our reputations. It’s fine for people to fear us, but there can’t be evidence of us going batshit. That kind of mark stains. We need to protect him from himself.”

  “If you say so.” I shrugged, swigging my whiskey again. I was getting a nice buzz going now.

  “I do say so,” Saint snarled, his dark eyes flaring in that dangerous way they often did right before someone ended up in tears.

  “Keep your panties on, I said I’m onboard. The dude can bury his problems in Tatum Rivers tonight and tomorrow I’ll be all over him like a Hades Virus rash. He can give me all the gory details about our new girl too so I’ve got something to jerk off over between now and the next time I can head into town,” I joked.

  “If you’re so interested in her then why don’t you just go and join them?” Saint asked, rolling his eyes at me. “It’ll probably be the only shot you get anyway. After tonight, I plan on making that girl mine.”

  I snorted a laugh, though it wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever had, but I wasn’t sure the new girl would be up for a spit roast on her first night here. Probably too worried about her reputation for that. Though the idea of it was weirdly alluring and I had to wonder what it would be like to share a girl with one of my friends.

  “I’ll pass, thanks. Her performance is probably better in my imagination than it would be in reality,” I said, not letting my imagination linger there too long.

  “I’ll let you know,” Saint said with such cocky confidence that I couldn’t help but hope she’d turn him down. There was a first time for everything, right?

  We got to our feet to return to the party and I took another long drink, pulling the bottle away from my lips a moment too soon so that whiskey spilled over my chin and dripped onto my shirt.

  Saint’s eyes flashed with rage and I smirked at him. Man, I loved to poke the beast.

  He lunged at me and in my slightly drunk state I didn’t manage to bat him off of me before his fist closed on the front of my shirt. His fingers slipped through the hole in it and he yanked his fist back suddenly, a huge rip sounding as he tore the damn thing in half.

  “Next time, turn up wearing clothes wi
thout fucking holes in them,” he snarled, stepping right into my personal space so that our chests were damn near touching. “You look like a fucking hillbilly Hells Angel!”

  A laugh tore from my lips and Saint cracked a moment later, smirking too as he acknowledged my win.

  “I knew it would drive you insane,” I taunted.

  “Well, joke’s on you – now you really do look like shit.” Saint stepped back, a breath of laughter escaping him as he eyed my ruined shirt.

  “Naw,” I disagreed, pushing my bottle of Jack into his hand so that I could take the shirt off. “You just made sure every bitch at this party is going to be panting over me all night.”

  I shrugged out of my leather jacket and dropped it onto the nearest chair. Someone would find it later and make sure I got it back.

  “I’m not after pussy tonight anyway,” Saint replied with a shrug. “I wanna make sure no one got any ideas about challenging us over the summer.”

  I snorted dismissively. The douchebags in this school wouldn’t dare stand up to us, but King Saint liked to lord it over everyone at least five times a term just to make sure.

  I balled up the ruined shirt and tossed it over the balcony before reclaiming my drink from him and taking a swig.

  “How long before I can bail?” I asked. Some nights I was the life and soul of the party, other nights, the party seemed to be sucking the life and soul out of me. Tonight felt like the latter and I was done.

  Saint sighed. “What’s the point in the Night Keepers throwing a party if one of them doesn’t even stick around? Besides, if you think this thing is shit then what hope do we have for making sure the rest of them think it was epic?”

  “It’s not the party, I’m just not feeling it tonight. If I gotta stay, can I at least beat the shit out of a few people?” I grinned at the idea of that, but there was a refusal brimming in Saint’s eyes.

  “Remind me of the rules we set,” he demanded in a tone that didn’t broker any arguments.

  “I can’t beat the shit out of someone unless they start it and there are witnesses,” I sighed.

  “Good. So feel free to taunt someone into attacking you if you must, but just stick to the fucking rule. You don’t need some asshole pressing charges because their precious little bottom dweller has a broken face. Again.” Saint stood blocking my way back into the party and I reluctantly agreed with him. He did have a point. I’d had a few too many of those complaints against me now and there was a fair chance that the next one wouldn’t be solved by me paying some bullshit fine. Not to mention the fact that paying the damn fine would be an issue for me now, too.

  “I swear it,” I said, placing a hand over my heart where a tattoo of the devil himself sat on a throne in all his demon horned, cloven hoofed glory.

  Saint didn’t look convinced, but he turned and headed back into the party anyway. I followed him inside but as he headed off to find a drink, I turned into a side room.

  The fifty inch TV was on in the corner and I moved to stand before it as a news report caught my attention. The music was too loud for me to hear what was being said, but some helpful little sausage noticed I was trying to watch it and flicked the subtitles on for me.

  I tossed her a wink in thanks and she gave me a wide smile as her gaze trailed down my bare skin and she studied the tattoos on my flesh.

  I left her to it and gave my focus back to the TV as I took another swig of my whiskey, reading the words a second after they spilled from the reporter’s mouth.

  Emergency measures are being discussed in detail incase the Hades Virus becomes a pandemic but in the meantime, people at home are being reminded to watch out for the signs of infection and self isolate if you think you are exhibiting any of them.

  The first thing that you will notice is a sudden spike in temperature with hot and cold flushes. Following that, the next stage involves a severe cough which will feel uncontrollable at times. In the final stage, patients experience a rash which appears in a swirling pattern of rose shaped red marks all over the body. If you experience any of these symptoms DO NOT GO TO HOSPITAL. You must call the helpline and isolate yourself. If the phone assessment concludes that you are likely to be infected, you will be given instructions on the closest Hades Virus treatment centre where you can go to retrieve help.

  In the meantime, to protect yourself and others you must keep up good hand washing practices, use hand sanitisers and wear masks in public where possible. Refrain from touching your face or from touching others. You should avoid gatherings of more than five people. And stay home as much as-

  I hit the button beside the screen to shut that shit off and turned back to the room of students. Some of them looked a bit concerned about the report on the TV and I offered them a taunting smile.

  “Are any of you fuckers afraid of that shit you just watched?” I called.

  There was a general cry of disagreement, but I could see the truth in their panty pissing expressions.

  “Well, if you’re not then let’s go and party like the world isn’t going to shit!” I cried.

  I led the charge out of the room back to the main part of the common house, plucking a wooden chair into my grasp as I went.

  I carved a path through the dancing bodies for the table which held the drinks and slammed the wooden chair down before one of the kegs.

  I caught Blake’s eye across the room as he danced with our new girl and beckoned him over with a jerk of my chin as a crowd formed around me. He caught on right away and brought another chair with him, setting it before the other keg as he dragged Tatum over by the hand.

  I was half tempted to challenge the new girl to drink, but I thought better of it at the last moment. Blake wouldn’t be distracting himself from anything in her company tonight if she ended up paralytic and puking.

  I looked through the crowd surrounding us and spotted Chad McCormack with a grin on his face. He was on the football team and was a beast of a dude, though not the sharpest tool in the shed. I pointed him out in a clear demand and he dropped into the chair before me as Blake chose a sucker to compete against him. Of course Blake chose Greg Smithson who everyone knew was a borderline alcoholic and would clearly win in a drink off. Even when he wasn’t actually competing himself, that asshole couldn’t bear to lose.

  I rolled my eyes at Blake before turning my attention back to the crowd. “Who’s ready to drink like the world is ending?” I cried.

  The crowd cheered in excitement despite the ring of truth to my words and I grinned.

  “Then let’s get fucked up like tomorrow might not ever come and we’re all about to die!” I yanked Chad’s chair back, tipping it up so that he was lying beneath the keg as I set the beer flowing straight into his mouth.

  The crowd cheered wildly as Chad and Greg fought to drink as much beer as they could before they started choking on it. Chad started coughing and my smile darkened as I continued to hold him beneath the flow. He gasped and spluttered in fright but just before he could throw himself out of the chair, I flipped it back upright and shut off the beer.

  He fell forward onto the floor and started heaving as he crawled away, fighting to catch his breath again. I laughed loudly, calling out for the next challenger as Blake celebrated Greg’s win like it was his own.

  Funnily enough, there weren’t any volunteers to get into my chair but I just pointed out another asshole and he fell into line fast enough. Besides, they all knew I wouldn’t actually drown someone with beer. Although, as I looked down at Gerald Holt before I tipped his chair back, I had to admit, he did look in danger of shitting himself.

  I soon grew bored of the game and beckoned Danny Harper closer to take over holding my chair, heading off through the crowd looking for an exit.

  Blake stayed where he was, needing to see out the game and keep up his winning streak.

  Before I could slip out of a side door, I was accosted by Georgie Penfield, Pearl Devickers and Mila Cruz.

  “It’s my birthday,” Georgi
e announced with a hiccup.

  “That so?” I asked in a bored tone. I’d lost my bottle of Jack somewhere which was a damn travesty.

  “Yeah. And she’s had the biggest crush on you since, forever,” Pearl gushed. Her eyes were bloodshot and she looked way past hammered. In fact, Mila was the only one of the group who didn’t seem wasted. She looked like she was half a second away from dragging the other two away from me by their hair. Clever girl.

  “That’s cute,” I replied dismissively. Georgie was hot in an objective way, but the way her conservative dress covered her up and her hair was oh so carefully braided told me all I needed to know about her. She was a rich girl through and through. Not nearly rough enough around the edges for me.

  “Can she do a body shot on you?” Pearl asked with a hint of desperation in her tone as she shifted in front of me again to stop me from walking away.

  I sighed, about to refuse but just as my lips parted to tell her to fuck off, Tatum Rivers joined their little crew, throwing her arms around Mila in excitement. She didn’t seem to notice me at first, but her gaze swivelled my way as Pearl spoke again.

  “Pleeeease, Kyan?” She batted her eyelashes at me and I rolled my eyes.

  “It’s your birthday and the only thing you want is to lick a shot off of me?” I asked Georgie in disbelief. The girl actually nodded and Tatum snorted derisively.

  “I’ll go one better. You can all do it,” I said, my gaze slipping over the four of them before landing on Tatum.

  She looked like she was going to refuse, probably because of the dickhead spin the bottle move I’d pulled. But that was okay, because I wasn’t giving her a choice.

  “Tequila!” I shouted and Georgie and Pearl started giggling excitedly.

  Tatum looked ready to walk away so I caught her hand in mine and twirled her beneath my arm before she could stop me.

  “You can go first, new girl,” I announced.

  “I’d rather lick the bottom of my shoe after stepping in dog shit,” she said, giving me the ice queen mask.

  “Shit Georgie, looks like Tate here doesn’t want to play. I guess you’re not getting your birthday wish then.” I made a move to walk away as Georgie and Pearl both shot Tatum daggers. I wondered if the new girl cared about having friends. Pissing off the popular girls the moment she arrived didn’t seem like a great way to start out if she did.