We strode along dark corridors and the sound of many footsteps following were punctuated by sniggers of laughter from the footballers as they came to find out what we might do next.
We moved straight past the abandoned secretary’s desk and up to the oak double doors which hid Brown’s office.
Saint unlocked it with one of his keys and I smirked as we sauntered into the wide space. The smell of old coffee and older books hung in the room and I glanced at the bookcases lining the walls for a moment before my attention settled on the mahogany desk which took up most of the space before the window.
Brown had a brightly coloured baseball bat hanging on his wall, signed by every member of the Sequoia Black Bears and sitting in pride of place like he was claiming to be their friend or something. I bet he’d just bought the thing on eBay. I doubted any of the signatures were even real.
All of us had been hauled in here more than once for a dressing down from our noble head, and it was beyond time for us to remind him who the fuck he was dealing with. We were the next generation of men destined to rule his little world and it was past time he adjusted to that fact.
“C’mon in, Deepthroat,” Kyan called, that darkness in his gaze deepening as he moved forward and ripped the plastic packaging off of the first pack of toilet paper.
The girl in question sidled in, her eyes wild with fear and pathetically, still a hint of lust aimed at Kyan too. That shit was sad. He’d made her life hell since the incident and in all honesty, I was surprised she hadn’t transferred schools. Saint had wanted her expelled after the shit she’d pulled but Kyan refused, preferring to dole out his own punishment for what she’d tried to do to him.
I snorted a laugh as I moved to rip the plastic off of the other packs of toilet paper with Saint and started arranging them on Brown’s desk in the shape of a giant cock with knobbly toilet paper balls.
“On your knees, Deepthroat,” Kyan growled. “That’s your favourite spot after all.”
Deepthroat dropped down in front of him and I swear the girl was salivating at being so close to her dream of sucking him off. She had stalker issues for sure.
Kyan balled up the plastic wrapper in his hand. “Open wide.” She did, her graze drinking him in as he stood over her in his wifebeater with the muscles of his tattooed arms flexing. He’d never lost a drop of the rage he felt towards that girl and I could easily admit, I hadn’t either.
Kyan lurched forward and shoved the plastic wrapper straight into her mouth, forcing it to the back of her throat and snarling as she jerked away from him, choking on it.
I laughed but it wasn’t my old boisterous laugh, it was a dark and cruel thing which appreciated the girl’s suffering. Maybe that meant I was an asshole. But that girl had slipped Kyan a roofie, dragged him into her dorm room and gotten his pants half way off before he’d come to his senses enough to find her with her mouth wide and his cock in her hand. At the time he’d barely managed to get the fuck out of there. But the next day when he’d slept it off, the three of us had kicked in her door and found a stash of the pills alongside a huge collection of photographs of him which he hadn’t even known she’d taken. If she’d been a dude he probably would have beaten her to death, as it was, the three of us had done a damn good job of ruining her life. There were reputation destroying rumours about her circulated throughout all of high society and we’d even set plans in place to bankrupt her family after we graduated. Kyan just wanted to wait until then so that he could torture her before he never had to see her again.
Deepthroat fell to the floor, clawing at her mouth to tear the toilet paper packet back out of it as she gasped for breath and I snorted a laugh as Kyan came to help us finish up our sculpture.
“Perfect,” I announced, snapping a photo of our masterpiece as Saint smirked triumphantly.
Movement beyond the window behind Brown’s desk drew my attention for a moment and I frowned as I looked out into the dark at the main gate.
For a moment, I could have sworn I saw someone slip through it, but with the light of the room reflecting off of the glass it was hard to be sure. It looked like Kyan might not be the only one flouting the quarantine rules though. My gut squirmed uncomfortably at that knowledge. That virus had torn through my mom in little more than a week and stolen her from me. I didn’t think we should be fucking around with the rules put in place to protect us from that shit, and tomorrow I was going to be talking to Saint and Kyan about us laying down the law about it. I was too young to fucking die.
“Punch?” I snapped, my grief tainting my words as it reared its ugly head. I was starting to wonder if Saint had been entirely right about me channelling it into rage all the time. Sure, it gave me an outlet but it didn’t feel like it was actually helping me to chip away at the pain at all. When I poured the torrent of emotion I felt over my mom’s death into anger, I felt seriously close to losing control. And after dragging Tatum up into the woods, I had to wonder just how far I was capable of going if I didn’t get a handle on this.
Punch eased into the room looking sheepish. There was a dude who’d taken his punishment seriously. I’d even seen him cry once. And after the way he’d flattened me with that punch last year, I wasn’t going to waste any time feeling bad for him. That said, I was willing to offer him an out. We actually could do with him back on the football team and he’d served his time.
“Be a lamb and hold this for me,” I pulled a lighter from my pocket and tossed it at him. He fumbled the catch and dropped to his knees as he scrambled to pick it up.
Hmm, if his catches have gotten that sloppy then maybe we don’t need him back on the team after all.
“What’s this for?” Punch asked, his eyes flicking between the lighter and the cock shaped heap of seriously flammable toilet paper as he figured it out.
Saint laughed darkly in that way that told me his monster was feeding off of the fear in the room and I had to say that I was developing a taste for it too. Before I’d lost my mom, it had been more about power for me than getting off on inciting terror, but the more I focused on that aspect of my position as a Night Keeper, the more I found I liked it.
“I just thought you’d like it as a gift,” I said innocently.
“Can everyone here attest to the fact that the Night Keepers delivered all of this toilet paper to Headmaster Brown’s office as requested?” Saint asked, his gaze sweeping over the crowd who had followed us here. “And that we left the room without doing anything at all to damage Brown’s property?”
A chorus of yeses swept over us and I exchanged a smirk with Kyan.
“Good.” Saint headed towards the door and I fell into step with him.
Kyan hesitated for a moment before crossing the room to pull the signed baseball bat from its holder on the wall. He casually swung it back and forth as he barked at Deepthroat to get out of the room, then he moved to join us by the door. She scrambled to comply, still shooting him looks that told me she’d be getting herself off over this interaction later on tonight when she was all alone in bed.
Punch tried to follow too, but I held up a hand to stop him. “How would you like to end your term as an Unspeakable, Punch?” I asked casually.
“It’s been a long time since anyone called you Toby Rosner,” Saint commented lightly.