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

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Kings of Quarantine: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep Book 1) Page 49

by Caroline Peckham


  He was just on the other side of it, his face pinched with anxiety as he grabbed my hand through the bars.

  Footsteps sounded behind me and panic laced my blood like poison.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Monroe demanded then barrelled on. “Can you open the gate?”

  “Yes,” I gasped, swearing again and again as I tucked the knife into my waistband and lifted the keys with shaking fingers. Monroe angled his phone light down towards them so I could see.

  “Hurry,” he pressed and I wet my achingly dry mouth as I picked a key at random and stuffed it in the lock.

  “Hey!” Monroe called out to the asshole heading my way. “Back the fuck up!”

  I turned the key hard, but it didn’t work and I knew I’d cost myself everything as Merl snatched a fistful of my hair.

  Fear clutched me in its grip and I screamed as he yanked me around to face him, tossing the keys at Monroe in desperation, hearing them jingling across the ground.

  “Let her go!” Monroe bellowed, rage and fear colliding in his voice.

  Merl pinned me against the wall, throwing a solid punch to my ribs. I wheezed as the air was knocked out of me and he shoved me to the ground, his weight following me, pressing me into the ice-cold concrete.

  I jerked and fought but his eyes were wild, unforgiving. I fought to hook the knife from my waistband in determination, but he took my head in both hands and cracked it down against the ground before I could pull it free.

  Light burst in front of my eyes and for a moment I saw Jessica calling my name, her hand reaching for me.

  A haze washed through me and I tasted blood in the air as I drew in a ragged breath. All the light in the world seemed to extinguish as my thoughts started to slowly pull back together and I felt his hands on me. His fingers dragging down my skin, his rancid breath against my lips. The clink of him undoing his belt and the distinctive rolling down of a zipper.

  My hand twitched as I heard Monroe calling my name and shouting at Merl with a thousand curses as the gate banged and rattled while he tried to break it down.

  Suddenly more voices joined with his and for a moment I was sure that I could hear the Night Keepers calling my name too. But instead of fearing more monsters drawing close to me, the thought of them coming for me brought me a fierce kind of strength.

  My throat was tight, my mind blurry, but I fixed on one thing. One rule I’d lived by my entire life. The gift my father had given me, stitched into my damn soul. Survive at all costs. Any cost.

  I screamed in my assailant’s face, pouring my hate, my rage, my need to live into every note, then I yanked the hunting knife free of my pants and rammed the full length of it into his side. It sliced through flesh and bone, the impact of the blow echoing through my arm. My soul.

  He jerked, grunting in shock as my thoughts snapped back together and I gazed at the man who looked over me as blood dripped from his mouth onto my face, making my limbs freeze in horror.

  Merl was ripped off of me and I lost my grip on the knife as he was thrown to the ground. My lips parted as I stared up at Monroe to my right and the Night Keepers to my left with the dying man at their feet.

  They looked like four demons, their dark expressions filled with a fury so pure I could taste it on the air. But there was more to them than that. Something that was equally as terrifying in the way they were looking at me. It took me a moment to realise it was fear. Real, pure fear for me. These brutal creatures had come running to my aid when I needed them most and despite all of the things that had passed between us, in that moment I felt truly safe with them surrounding me. Protecting me.

  Blake moved forward, taking my hand and pulling me up. He was looking at me like the night we’d been together, back when he didn’t hate me, when I’d just been a girl whose flesh he’d worshipped.

  My breathing was suddenly so loud against my ears. Everything was too quiet and I was horribly aware of what I’d done. I clawed my hands into my hair and felt the stickiness of my attacker’s blood on my skin. I could smell it, taste it. It was everywhere. And Merl groaned and cursed as more and more of it pooled out around him.

  “No…no no no,” I spoke to myself, unable to look at anyone around me. “I stabbed him. My life is fucked. I am so fucked.” I started to shake from a new kind of fear. I couldn’t find it in me to regret it. He’d been attacking me. But I’d stabbed him bad. He was going to die. I could see it in his eyes, in the pool of blood that just kept growing and growing and-”

  “Tatum,” Saint said my name in a powerful tone and my eyes snapped up to find him in the dark as the single word cut through the fog of my panic.

  The dying man’s phone lay beside him, the flashlight on it smeared with blood so we were all lit in ominous red tones.

  Saint leaned down, taking hold of the hilt of the knife in the man’s side and ripping it out in one clean pull, making him scream in pain. In a flash of movement so sudden it made me gasp, Saint drove the knife into Merl’s chest with a merciless blow.

  Merl shuddered and passed out, still somehow clinging to life, but his body was growing stiller by the second.

  “You didn’t kill him,” Saint growled in a tone flecked with warmth as he looked to me. “I did.”

  A beat of silence stretched through the air for so long, it felt eternal. Then Blake snatched the blade, kicking Merl over and slamming it into his back. My throat thickened as he looked to me with his jaw tight.

  “I did it,” Blake breathed and I shook my head, at a loss to understand what was happening.

  Kyan prised the blade from Blake’s hand, grabbed a fistful of the guy’s hair and slashed the knife across his throat. More blood spilled and I winced, scrambling backwards until my spine hit Monroe’s legs.

  “No, I did it,” Kyan growled and I looked up at him with my lower lip trembling, finding a swirling sea of darkness in his eyes. I felt that same darkness in me, like our beings were made of shadow. Like all of ours were.

  Kyan lifted the bloody knife, holding it out to Monroe and I tilted my head back to look up at him, shaking my head in refusal. I had no idea what he was going to do. He’d just seen us all murder someone. He could run to the cops. He could give us all up. And why wouldn’t he? This was exactly what he’d need to take Saint down.

  “You’re one of us now, Nash,” Kyan said in a low tone. “Time to prove it.”

  Monroe lowered down, helping me to my feet and taking my chin in his grip as he looked at me. I didn’t know what he was going to say or do, but the swirling storm of hate in his eyes made me afraid.

  I guessed he found whatever he was hunting for in my eyes as he released me, stepping towards Kyan and taking the knife from his outstretched hand.

  “Don’t,” I gasped, knowing that if he did this, he couldn’t go back. He really would be tied to the Night Keepers. He’d be bound to them as fiercely as I was.

  He ignored me, dropping over the man and sinking the blade between his ribs and that moment burrowed into my mind, never to be unseen.

  “I killed him,” he growled like he was proud, like he really would have done it for me if he’d gotten to him first. And I realised with a terrifying clarity, that they all would have.

  I didn’t know why they were saving me, but they were. These creatures who had used and tormented me were banding together to defend me from this. We were bound by blood, this secret living between us and forever latching us together. They could have disposed of me, told the cops what I’d done and let them lock me away. But instead they did more for me than anyone had ever done. All four of them.

  They were the beasts who hated me, broke and tortured me. And now for reasons I couldn’t fathom…they’d protected me too.

  My eyes were fixed on Tatum as we stood around her, all of us taking a moment to accept what we’d done before anyone could speak again.

  “We’re blood bound now, the five of us,” Kyan said darkly. “That’s a bond as strong as family. Stronger even.”

  M
y lip peeled back as my gaze landed on Saint. The son of the man whose family had destroyed mine. My soul reason for pursuing everything I had in life. The man I’d hated from the very first moment I’d laid eyes on him even if he’d never known it. Family? That was unthinkable.

  But as my gaze found Tatum’s again, I could almost feel it. That pull to protect her still humming through me fiercely.

  I’d done it for her. For a girl who’d breezed into my life and flipped it upside down, made me question everything and made me think and feel things I’d begun to believe I wasn’t even capable of.

  There was one, single reason why I’d just pushed that blade between that rapist’s ribs. And it was her.

  Because as insane as it sounded even to me. I was willing to kill for her.

  I just didn’t know what the fuck that meant for the rest of my life.

  Blake moved forward suddenly, gripping Tatum’s head between his hands and drawing her forehead against his as he released a shaky breath. She reached up to grasp his forearms as her eyes fluttered shut and for the strangest moment it seemed like she was taking comfort from this creature who I knew had worked tirelessly to destroy her.

  “Thank you,” Tatum said, her voice rough. “All of you.”

  None of us said anything to that and I wondered if their silent answers could possibly be the same as mine. That she didn’t need to thank me. That I’d do that a thousand times and more for her. Kill for her. Paint my soul in blood for her. It made no sense to me but it was true. I’d just proved it. Were they wishing they could say that too? And was their silence guilty like mine was? Were they cursing themselves for not being faster. For not helping her sooner. For letting that foul creature who lay dead beside us get his hands on her for one single second?

  Were they wishing she wouldn’t thank them and drowning in the need to apologise for being so late. Almost too late…

  I didn’t know, and with all I understood about them I wanted to seriously doubt it. But it was hard to ignore the way the three of them were staring at her. Hard to deny the depth to those looks. The intensity in each of their gazes.

  And harder still to ignore the bond this secret put on us. All of us. Together.

  What the fuck did that mean for me?

  “Strip, now,” Saint barked and my gaze flipped to him again as Blake released Tatum and the three Night Keepers instantly ripped off shirts, kicked off sneakers and downed sweatpants. Tatum stripped the watches off of her arms too, dropping them with our clothes.

  “Everything but your underwear, baby,” Kyan said, reaching out to brush his knuckles against Tatum’s cheek and causing her attention to fall on him.

  The look she gave him made my gut clench and writhe in a way that I couldn’t even try to pretend wasn’t jealousy.

  “We can’t deal with the body now,” Saint added. “If we’re gone much longer we’ll be missed. We need to get back out there and help make sure these motherfuckers are all gone for good.”

  My gaze fell to the body beside us and the blood slowly pooling across the floor. Had the Night Keepers done this before? Did they know exactly how to deal with a body because they’d had a lot of practice?

  “Now, Nash!” Kyan snapped and as my eyes flicked back up to him standing there in his boxers, I caught a wild kind of fear in his gaze which made me think not. No, they hadn’t killed before, but they knew how to destroy evidence.

  They were all standing in their underwear waiting for me, Tatum’s arms crossed over her bare chest as she looked my way with a desperate apology painted across her beautiful features.

  I quickly stripped out of my clothes, dropping them with the rest and stepping over the puddle of blood to join them.

  Blake moved to lock the gate, stooping down to switch off the rapist’s cell phone too and plunging us into darkness. A moment later, Kyan’s phone illuminated the way on and he started jogging up the tunnel towards The Temple.

  We soon emerged in a wide space that had been converted into a gym and I glanced around at the state of the art equipment.

  “Wait here, Tatum,” Saint commanded and she fell still wordlessly as the Night Keepers jogged up the stairs and out of sight.

  I didn’t follow them and they didn’t look back.

  Tatum turned to look up at me, her blue eyes glimmering as she drew in a ragged breath. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed, drawing closer to me to keep her words private. Her hands and stomach were coated with blood and there was a savage kind of beauty to her as she stood there in nothing but her panties with her arms wrapped around her chest, smeared in the blood of her attacker. Her jaw was set tight and the determination in her gaze let me know she didn’t regret what she’d had to do for one second. She was a warrior embodied, refusing to bow down no matter what was thrown at her. And only rising stronger each time she fell.

  “I’m the one who should be sorry,” I growled. “If I’d just gotten to you sooner after you called, I-”

  “But now you’re tied to the Night Keepers for life because of me,” she protested and the look in her eyes said she knew what that must have cost me even if she didn’t fully understand what Saint’s family had done to mine.

  “Not because of you,” I growled. “For you. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

  A soft sob escaped her and tears gathered in her lashes for a moment which I knew were entirely for me and nothing to do with that fucker we’d left cold in the catacombs.

  She moved towards me so suddenly that I almost didn’t know what was happening as she fell against my chest, her arms wrapping around me and her bare flesh pressing to mine in so many places that it overwhelmed me entirely.

  My arms closed around her too as I pulled her closer, drowning in the scent of her and the exquisite feeling of her skin against mine.

  I didn’t know how the hell we’d deal with all of this now, but I did know that we’d done the right thing. All of us. Even the Night Keepers. And this bond between us was real whether I liked it or not.

  Saint appeared again suddenly, dressed in an outfit that looked almost exactly the same as the one he’d been wearing a few minutes ago.

  In one hand he held a fistful of clothes and in the other he had a black bucket with two cloths swimming in it. The cloying scent of bleach washed over us as he drew closer, leaving the clothes on the stairs before approaching us with the bucket.

  “Come here,” he said, his eyes on Tatum and his tone almost soft.

  If it concerned him that he’d found the two of us wrapped around each other in nothing but our underwear, he didn’t mention it.

  Tatum released me and went to him, not bothering to cover her chest this time as he grabbed a cloth and quickly started wiping the blood from her skin.

  I grabbed my own cloth from the bucket, forcing my eyes away from Tatum’s body as I hurried to wipe the blood off of me too.

  Saint diligently cleaned every spot of blood from Tatum’s skin. Her gaze remained fixed on him as he moved the cloth all over her flesh and she seemed to struggle for the right words to offer him.

  Once he was done, she plunged her hands straight into the bucket and washed the blood from them too.

  “Here,” Saint said, moving to pass me a pair of grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt which looked almost exactly like the ones I’d just been wearing.

  I shrugged them on with a grunt of thanks and he gave his attention to dressing Tatum next.

  “I had the same outfit for you in black,” he said as he offered her the matching leggings and sports bra. “It’s dark out tonight, no one should notice that they’re not navy now.”

  “Thanks.” She dressed quickly and we ran up the stairs to find Kyan and Blake waiting for us wearing fresh versions of their last outfits too.

  “Just like it never happened,” Blake said darkly as his gaze slid over us.

  “I dunno if I’d say that,” Kyan growled, reaching out to take Tatum’s hand as he pulled her towards the door where fresh sneakers were wait
ing for us too.

  “Let’s go,” Saint commanded and my skin prickled as he aimed that tone at me just as clearly as it was aimed at the others. Whatever this bond between us meant, it definitely didn’t include me taking orders from him.

  Kyan scooped a baseball bat up off of the floor and I noticed a gun jammed in the back of Blake’s sweatpants. Saint didn’t take a weapon, but I spotted an old claw hammer laying on the flagstones and snatched it before following the others out into the dark.

  Distant shouts coloured the air from somewhere up near the gates and adrenaline surged through my limbs as we turned towards the fight.

  “Who the fuck do these assholes think they are breaking in here and trying to steal from us?” I demanded in a deadly tone.

  “Let’s go show ‘em what happens when you invoke the wrath of the Night Keepers,” Blake growled.

  Kyan cupped his hand around his mouth and hollered to the sky, his voice echoing all over the mountain in a deadly promise which made the hairs rise along the back of my neck. It was the cry of a hunter. And a vow of violence to come.

  Saint smiled darkly and we started running without another word, the four of us taking up positions all around Tatum without anyone needing to order it. It could have been a coincidence, but I didn’t think so. We were all bound by this thing we’d done, but in truth we were bound by something so much purer than death. We were bound by her. This girl who’d shown up out of nowhere and managed to claim a hold on the corrupted souls of four broken monsters.

  And though I might have hated what these other beasts were and all they stood for, I could appreciate the power in them all the same. Each of us was capable of real ferocity when it came to protecting what was ours. And Tatum Rivers was ours. We’d written it in blood.

  The noise from up ahead reached us like a storm. My heart wouldn’t settle as I ran amongst the four creatures who had saved me. I was still in shock from the attack and couldn’t adjust to this shift in our dynamics. Because it was like all of them had severed off a piece of their souls and handed it to me tonight. And after weeks of abuse, hatred and persecution from the Night Keepers, I didn’t know what to do with that knowledge. It didn’t make sense to me. Yet when we’d stood in the aftermath of that bastard’s death, I’d felt them joined to me as keenly as if as an invisible chain had wrapped around us.

 

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