Page 1 of Make Me Scream
CHAPTER 1
PERIS
The screams resoundin my mind.
Please don’t run… Please don’t run… not from me.
Not now.
My ears ring, a high-pitched drone that drowns out the sound of Ma’s voice over the racing of my own thundering heart.
“Peris!” Hands yank at my shoulders, and I jerk away from the unexpected touch.
“What?” I blink through the sting.
“What the hell is going on?” Her eyes are wide, and her forehead is beading with sweat that my own is mimicking with abundance.
“Why the fuck would I know that?” I’m shouting, my throat hoarse and burning with the strain. The knocking persists, and it grates on my nerves. I feel it igniting along my skin, prickling like live wires set to detonate at any second.
The path Abel took only moments ago still burns with the scent of his departure. It reeks of anguish and inevitability.
I can’t fucking stand it.
I start after him, jaw set tight, fingernails biting into my palms deep enough to gorge the flesh beneath. Ma’s still speaking, but her voice easily obscures into nothing as I stormdown the hall, following after my runt. I fling his bedroom door open, only to stop short at the sight of his dark room and empty bed.
My heart kickstarts as I stare into the emptiness. Logically, I know he couldn’t have gone anywhere… but he could have. He could’ve fucking up and jumped out of the goddamned window, knowing him. Could’ve raced away and left me to deal with this chaos created because of him.
Fueled with a newfound fire, I spin around and march to my own door, some invisible force pulling me toward it. It’s dark, the sun now nearly complete in its setting, but in the corner, near my desk, Abel’s feet stick out from the wall, this time bare yet still reminiscent of that night in the school locker room.
The reminder overpowers the angry relief at the sight of him in front of me, instead filling me with a revolting thrill. Heat churns in my gut, and without thinking, I’m over by Abel in three steps. I snake his braid-wavy, blonde strands around my fingers and yank him to his feet.
Wide, wet, silver eyes blink owlishly at me, that beautiful bottom lip of his quivering. “W-what are you?—”
“Shut the fuck up, pup,” I snarl against his mouth as I slam our lips together. His soft sniffles melt into a long, drawn out mewl that ignites my blood into molten glass—impossibly hot and so fucking fragile.
That’s what he does to me. Something so unthinkable and…
And beautiful.
I suck in air, taking Abel’s breath for my own at the disturbing realization. I fucking hate this. What he’s doing to me. How fast it’s all happening. What his mother showing up has done to me—to us. The reality of what this means—falling headfirst at the speed of a rollercoaster.
We could lose him…
Icould lose him.
“I fucking won’t,” I snarl against his thick bottom lip before snagging it between my teeth and yanking.
“Won’t w-what?” Abel trembles against me, and I fucking love it.
“I won’t fucking lose you, runt,” I snap. My teeth sink into his flesh unwittingly, drawing a yelp from Abel as blood wells. Coppery iron caresses my lips, and I moan, my eyes rolling back as I taste him. My dick throbs, pressing against the soft concave of his stomach.
“Oh—mmm,” he moans softly, and all of the tension drains from his body in an instant. He melts against me, his entire body falling slack. My hands wrap just under his ribs as I hoist him up. His legs wrap around my waist, heels digging at the top of my ass, crotch pressing against my stomach. He rubs against me, mewling like a fucking kitten as he attacks my mouth sloppily.
I swallow every desperate sound of his as we fight back and forth, swapping spit and hate and something we can’t name.
Abel rotates his hips, seeking friction, but his baggy sweatpants are bunched between us, preventing close contact. He whines desperately, and the sound shoots straight to my balls. I grip the hair at his nape and tug harshly, ripping him from my mouth. He pops off with a gasp, silver eyes glassy with the kind of mindlessness I only ever want him to have for me.
“Off,” I demand, tugging at his sweatshirt. His sharp Adam’s apple disappears below the collar as he pulls it above his head and drops it to the floor. His pale, scarred skin glows in the dark, evening light, illuminated by the reddish, pink glow of my alarm clock.
