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Can you find your brother and tell him to clean up his mess?” The door closes, and I get to my knees and look over at Blaise. He gathers my cum on his sheets. “What he said.” He sticks his fingers in his mouth, tasting me. “You wanna clean up your mess?”
The door flies open. A police officer enters the room. His gun is drawn, and his beady eyes bounce between us. The world slows to a stop. Beside me, Cole’s face drains of color. I shove him behind me and square my shoulders. “It’s good to see you again, son,” Cole’s dad says, skirting the length of the room and circling us. “You should answer your phone once in a while.”
“Two.” His eyes gleam with sick excitement. He’s enjoying this. He wants to pull the trigger. In his mind’s eye, he visualizes blood spraying over the walls. I swallow hard, resigned to my fate— Cole shoves me out of the way, and I crash against the vanity table. A shot goes off. Cole clutches his stomach. His eyes lift, and the confusion I see there breaks something inside me. He looks at me, his dad, and the blood pouring between his fingers.
An hour later, I hand in my test results and leave the classroom, my stomach growling when I walk by the canteen filled with students eating their lunch. I go to the bathroom, huddle in the stall, and lock it while I pull out the half-eaten sandwich from yesterday. I pull a hair from it, check the rest, then finish it in two bites.
This time, he obeys, and I waste no time placing the small key on his tongue. “I’m gonna fuck you so damn hard, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Try not to swallow the key, alright? If you do, you have to explain to the paramedics how you ended up swallowing the key to the handcuffs.” My voice drops. “…with my cum dried on your face, and leaking out of your ass.”

