Page 57 of Boys Who Hunt
He takes my coat and hangs it. “Max talks. And talks. And talks.”
I snort. “Sounds like him.”
“It is what it is.” He winks. “So … two boys wrapped around your finger, huh? I won’t tell, but I do love the drama.”
“Oh, I’m not into them,” I say, trying to shake off the rumors before they start.
His brows furrow. “Really? Because you said you were here for Silas.”
“So?”
“He only invites girls over he intends to fuck.”
My pupils dilate.
He walks off through the hallway while it feels like someone just knocked the air out of my lungs. “He’s upstairs, toward—”
“I know where his room is,” I interject.
“Good luck.”
He heads into the kitchen while I walk up the creaking steps of the Skull and Serpent Society, the dark walls feeling like they’re slowly entrapping me the closer I get to his room, where music is being blasted. I can smell the weed from the other end of the hallway, and it makes me cough.
Before I knock on the door, I take a deep breath.
This is it. No way back now. But I’m here, as told.
My nostrils flare and twitch as I force my hand up and knock.
The music in the room stops abruptly, and it makes my heart rate shoot through the roof.
“Come in.”
Silas’s unhinged voice makes goose bumps spread on my skin.
I step inside and search until I find him in a black pair of cargo pants and a white shirt sprawled on the black velvety couch, smoking pot.
A smile spreads from ear to ear on his face, causing the heart tattoo underneath his eye to wrinkle, but it abruptly disappears within seconds. “Good. Now close the door.”
I’m already irritated as hell as I kick it closed with my foot under his watchful gaze.
“Come here,” he says.
I walk closer to the table in front of the couch and stop, folding my arms.
“I was wondering if you’d show up.” He tilts his head, his short hair falling over his sunken-in eyes. “It would’ve been so fucking fun to drag you out of your hiding place myself.”
More goose bumps erupt on my skin at the reminder of what he and Heath did the other night in Priory Forest. “Too bad for you.”
He narrows his eyes, and his lip quirks up. “I would’ve made you enjoy it.”
Made me.
That’s what he likes. Control.
Fucking psycho.
He holds out the marijuana. “Want a drag?”