Page 46 of Make Me Scream
“‘Bout fucking time.”
“I know…” I reach up and grip the back of my neck and squeeze. “I’m… s-sorry. And I’m sorry I ruined Thanksgiving dinner.” I wince, hating that word more than anything. It’s bullshit, and it never means what people think it does, but for the first time, I find myself actuallymeaning it.
Static clings to the line. “You’re… sorry,” he deadpans.
“Yes.”
“Okay, Abel.”
“Okay?”
“What would you like me to say?” he drawls, and I hear his bed creak in the receiver. I feel myself shiver as his tone drops, and I curl further in on myself.
“Nothing, I guess,” I mumble into the mattress.
“All right, runt.”
“Jesus.” That one word seems to shift the tone of the conversation, and Peris chuckles.
“You’re so predictable, you know that, puppy? Pulling hot and cold, playing on everyone’s emotions like it doesn’t matter,” he speaks right into the receiver, and I hear the clench of his teeth as he grates them together.
My heart gallops, and I swallow the excess saliva that has built up in my mouth. Peris soundsangry,and it’s amazing.
“Of course, it matters,” I whisper.
“Not to you, it doesn’t. It never does. You do whatever you want whenever, towhoever, without caring about who you hurt in the process as long as you get what you want.” His words are sharp and blunt and so fucking true.
I stiffen, locking my molars together, and fist the blanket. “What are you going to do about it then?” I ask.
A long pause. Long enough, I question if Peris even heard me. “What a good question, runt.” And then, there’s a click.
I pull my phone away from my ear with a, “What the fuck?” but then, my door creaks open, and my heart shoots into my throat. Peris strides across my floor, swallowed in darkness and naked from the waist up. “Uh…” My eyes are as wide as the moon.
“Move over,” he spits.
“Wha…”
Peris rips my blankets out of my hands, causing a huge draft to flutter over my bare skin. I shiver, staring up at him with huge eyes, not sure what the hell he wants from me.
“Abel, I’m not going to repeat myself again.”
Without a word, I slowly scoot toward the wall, and when there’s enough room, Peris slides into bed beside me and drapes my blanket over his body. He draws his arms behind his head, and I can’t help but stare at the way his biceps bulge obscenely in that position.
He, of course, catches me staring, his eyes having adjusted to the dark. “Like what you see, puppy?” And like the dickhead he is, he flexes his muscles, and I almost drool on myself watching the muscles roll.
I flush hotly. “Fuck you.”
“Nah. Not tonight.” He turns his head back to stare up at the ceiling, dark wavy hair brushing across his forehead as he does.
I curl onto my side—facing him to keep him in my line of sight—and curl my hands under my face. “What are you doing in here, Peris?”
He’s quiet for long moments, not acknowledging that I asked him anything. He simply stares up at the ceiling as I stare at him. Eventually, he says, “I don’t really know. Just wanna be.”
“We’re kinda fucking crazy,” I tell him.
“Yeah, puppy,” he laughs, shaking his head before glancing over at me with a small smirk. “You’re telling me.”
I huff, and my breath blows my hair out of my face. As my eyes adjust even more to the dark, I can’t help but watch Peris closely. The way his chest hitches every fourth breath—like he can’t quite catch it—how his eyelids flutter occasionally, long lashes fluttering against his prominent cheekbones. The throb of his pulse in his thick neck—a neck I want to bite and mark permanently, cover in bruises and indentations of my teeth.
