A part of me can't blame them. Heisscary.
Damn, why am I getting hard?
"No, there ain't a ton of that shit here, and this is serious. You caught what Griff said? If you fuck up and get in trouble, it blows back on me, too. I'll be fucking pissed if I’m just doing everything by the book, and then get screwed 'cause of your dumbass," he says, jabbing a finger in my face.
I almost bite my lip to say ‘yes, daddy,’ but I figure he might actually kill me then, so I keep quiet, but my mouth goes dry, and I feel a flush crawling up my neck, hot and obvious, and my thighs press together on instinct. The other guys stay silent too.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" he demands, still waving the crumpled packet in my face.
"I dunno," I say. "Sorry? Just give it back? What do you want to hear?" I ask, and he sighs loudly.
"It doesn’t matter what I want to hear; what matters is if you’re actually sorry, which you’re not. So, we can handle this in two ways: I can go tell Griff what I found, or I can deal with it myself. Since telling Griff will mess up my record too, I’d rather handle it. But your choice."
I pretend to be cool, even though my heart is pounding. "What do you mean, ‘handle it?’ Like, you gonna flush it?” I say, my voice casual, but my hands are sweating. “Or maybe spark up and chill for once?"
Jack snorts, amused, which makes me feel a little braver. Harry’s eyes are shining in a sick way, like he knows whatEthan wants to do, and Miles is a statue, frozen in absolute indifference, eyes glued to his book. Ethan clenches the bag so hard it might pop.
"You think this is a joke? You think rules don’t apply to you?" he asks, and his voice is so low it is almost a growl. And I do get why everyone seems a little terrified of him, I do. There is a line between authority and psycho, and I’m not sure which side he is on. He steps closer and prods his finger into my sternum. Not enough to hurt, but plenty to make his point. "If you ruin my record, you might as well disappear as fast as you can, because I'll kill you. You screw up, I pay for it, so I'll make you pay before you can even think about it. We have a system here."
I should probably feel bad, but instead I want to laugh again, because it is so over the top. I try to play it off with a little sarcasm again. "Okay, fine. What’s the system? If you ain't gonna rat me out, what the hell do you want to do? Take me out for dinner?" I say. He shakes his head, like he’s disappointed with my answer, lips pressed into a line.
“You want to do this the hard way, fine. Here’s how it works. I'll punish you myself, and we’re square. I'll make you understand you won't fuck with me. Or I tell Griff, and you get it twice as bad, maybe the hole, or worse. You don’t want that. So, pick."
I eye the others, looking for backup, but Jack just sits there with this expectant look, waiting for me to do something, and Harry is nearly vibrating with excitement. Even Miles, who has been pretending to read until now, is watching out of the corner of his eye.
I fake a laugh. "Come on, man. Punish me? What kind of kinky shit is that? What the hell will you do? I thought this wasn't a psych ward." I try to keep my face calm, but Ethan’s glare is frying my brain. I have no idea if this is a real threat or just some fucked up hazing ritual. Maybe he is just posturing,like animals do, or maybe he is for real about punishing me for a little grass, whatever that means. The whole situation feels surreal. Ethan’s voice gets quieter, but he still has that same growl, which makes all of my hairs stand up.
Yes, even the ones down there, and they aren’t the only things standing up now.
"I’ll give you three seconds to decide before I decide for you," he says, and starts counting down. "Three. Two…" He doesn’t even get to one. I put my hands up.
"Fine. Whatever. Punish me,Daddy."
Maybe not my smartest moment.
Chapter 4. Liam
I think he’ll get fucking pissed at me for calling him Daddy, but his expression actually gets more feral, as if he really likes that.
Fuck, it does something to me as well.
“Okay. You'll get ten with the belt. Bend over the bed.”
I stare at him. For a second, I’m convinced he really is joking. But his face is all serious, and everybody else is acting like this isn't insane as fuck.
"So, just to be clear, you want to… what? Beat me as a punishment for bringing weed into the room?"
He shrugs. “Not exactlybeatyou. Spank you. And that’s right.” The words are somehow more disorienting the second time. He says that as if there’s any difference at all.
I try to laugh it off. It comes out nervous as fuck. “Spank me? Like, with a belt? Are you fucking for real? What kind of kinky freak show is this?” I ask again.
Ethan sighs, not irritated, just profoundly done with my shit. “If you prefer to go to the hole, let me call Griff.”
“No! Jesus, no, fucking chill for fucking once,” I say, too quickly. I don't know what the hole is exactly, but it doesn't sound good. I can only imagine what solitary confinement islike, and I don’t think I’d survive. I think I’d literally die in the first hour.
He shifts his weight, arms crossed like a dad, and I realize he’s waiting for me to actually say yes, that I want him to do that, like this is enough consent for his conscience, and that my time is running out.
“Hurry up, I don’t have all day."
