Chapter 5

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Luke's POV

I walked through the front doors of the school and went straight to the Trig room. I know people who were more than willing to tell me my new toys schedule. When I walked in Mrs. Knuckleberry looked up from her desk, "Luke Newsom, it's been forever! How has your mother been?"
I looked around the practically empty room, "She's doing fine. I have a question... do you have Dylan Riedel in your class first period?"
"Yes dear, I do. Why?"
"Would you send him to the nurses office when he gets here? The nurse needs to see him, he hit his head yesterday."
"I know that's not the reason. You're my nephew, and I know about the things you've done. Using girls for sexual reasons, and beating up certain boys, you know I know it. And I'm asking you not to hurt Dylan. I'll send him out, only because I'm trusting you not to hurt that boy emotionally or physically. He's already scared shitless because of moving hours away from his home, and you don't need to be hurting or scaring him anymore."
I rolled my eyes, "Yeah sure. Thanks."
I waited in the nurses office patiently until the bell rang. Then I waited even longer. Five minutes, ten minutes, 20 minutes. I started pacing around the room, and I was starting to get angry. My aunts words played in my head like a song on repeat. Damnit, when was that boy gonna show up?!
Finally, a tiny Dylan walked into the room and I ran to him and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, "Damnit Dylan, where the hell were you?"
I could hear him gulp as his light body started shaking. "I was taking a quiz, jeez," he said, acting like he didn't care I was scaring him.
"Well you're here now. And you're fricken staying here for the rest of class. Got it?" I can't control it anymore, what the fuck is wrong with me? He's making me angrier every damn time he gives me an attitude or takes too fucking long to come to me. But it actually kind of hurts me at the same time.
I put him down and he slowly walked to the counter and got a little plastic cup to fill with water. He raised it to his mouth an downed it in one gulp. He raised his black jacket sleeve to his mouth to wipe the excess water off and tossed the cup. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow, "You kinda scare me, ya know? And that's saying something because I don't scare easily. Even after what happened at my old school."
My turn for the eyebrow raise, "What happened at your old school?"
He looked down at the ground and scratched his head. No response. I looked at him, a pang of hurt in my heart. He was wearing black skinny jeans and a green V-neck, along with his black jacket. "Take your jacket off," I told him.
"What?" He asked.
"Take it off."
Confused, he pulled the jacket off of his arms and revealed his pale white arms. He was tiny. Skinnier than any guy I've ever seen, and what the fucks a dude with no muscle wearing a tight shirt for?
I moved closer to him, and he stepped back. "Are you scared?" I asked.
He shook his head, making his hair move more into his eyes. I put a hand through mine before I grabbed him by the shoulders and moved him closer to me. Damn, he's short. I held him to my chest, embracing him into a hug I wasn't expecting. His heart was pounding on my ribs, and mine was returning the favour to his head. "How tall are you?" I asked.
"Six foot..." he replied, trying to back away.
I held him closer, "You're tiny compared to my plus 7 inches." Wait, that sounded wrong, "I mean I'm 7 inches taller than you!"
He snickered at my panic, "Sure ya did. Let go of me."
I tilted his head up towards mine, my heart racing 100miles an hour, and I smashed his face against mine. He jumped a bit at the surprise, and he went limp in my arms. He moved his hands onto my biceps, and I moved mine to the back of his head, making it impossible for him to let go. How the fuck does this kid have softer lips than all the damn girls who wear lipstick and Chapstick all the damn time?! He kept pushing back, and I know he wanted me to stop. I wasn't moving my lips or anything, I just kept them on his. I finally decided to let go of him. He backed up to the wall. "What was that?!" He squeaked, his cheeks red.
I looked at his small body, and laughed at a certain outline I saw in his skinny jeans, "Something you apparently really liked."
He looked down and blushed even more. He looked adorable. Luke Newsom, what the hell are you thinking?
X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X
In P.E I chose a locker across from Dylan's. I pulled my shirt up and off, and scratched my stomach. Everyone else had gone out into the gym already, so it was just Dylan and me. I took off my pants and looked for my shorts and shirt. I could hear clothes being peeled off slowly, so I turned around and looked at Dylan. What a sight. It was just his back, which was just as pale as his arms, but damn, he looked good. I saw something on his side and grabbed his shoulder, turning him around as he pulled off his skinnies.
"What the heck?!" He asked, embarrassed as he covered his chest and stomach his with pants. I ripped the pants out of his hands. Across his sides were deep bruises, some fading but some still a dark purple. On his chest he had a long scar that went down to his bottom rib, along with gashes that had scabbed up across multiple ribs. "What the fuck?!" I screamed, "What the fuck is this?!"
He looked down again. No response. I smacked him across his cheek, leaving a red hand print where I hit. He fell to the floor, holding his cheek with one hand, and covering his chest with the other. He had tears that threatened to fall when he looked up at me. I felt bad, but this damn boy needs to learn that he's my fucking toy, and he needs to answer when I ask him shit. "What. The. Fuck. Are. Those? Dylan?"
He started shaking. I turned around and put my regular clothes back on. Fuck P.E. I grabbed Dylan's backpack from the floor and slung it over my shoulder before I picked him up bridal style. I walked out the fire exit in the boys locker room and to my truck, which was thankfully only a few feet away. I opened the passenger door and sat the tear-filled Dylan down. Fuck, he's only in underwear. I didn't even look down to remember that he was half naked. I walked to my side and started the truck. "Where.. where are you going?" He asked, his voice raspy.
"My place, whether you want to or not."

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