23

Ste squeezed through the narrow gap in the old fence, the sharp splintered edges of the wood snagging his shirt as he struggled to pull himself free. His trainers slipped on the wet mud beneath him, and he landed awkwardly on the other side, muttering a quiet curse under his breath. The drizzle from earlier in the day had turned the field into a slippery mess, and now his hands and knees were streaked with dirt.

He straightened up, brushing off his trousers as best he could while glancing at his watch. He was over ten minutes late. Brilliant. Adam and the others would already be in class. They had to be.

He let out a small sigh of relief, thinking he might just escape any confrontation, but when he spun on his heels, his stomach dropped. Jamie stood there, arms crossed and a smug, cat-like smile on his face. His pink-dyed hair looked vibrant against the gray sky, framing a face that was painfully beautiful.

“Shit,” Ste blurted out, the word escaping before he could stop it. His heart pounded in his chest. Apologies and explanations danced on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them down. There was no point. Jamie wasn’t the type to care about excuses. “Where are the others?”

“In class, I presume,” Jamie replied smoothly, his voice dripping with faux innocence. “You are ten minutes late, you know?”

“Yeah… I know,” Ste mumbled, his head hanging low. His hands fidgeted at his sides, nervously plucking at a loose thread on his shirt.

Ste couldn’t stop himself from staring. Jamie was perfect. Too perfect. The kind of perfect that made Ste’s chest ache with longing and his stomach twist with fear. His smile, his posture, the confidence in his voice—it was almost angelic. Almost. But Ste knew better. Jamie might have the face of an angel, but his personality was pure, unrelenting torment.

Ste swallowed the lump forming in his throat. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jamie tilted his head, his smile deepening. “Well, it occurred to me that I might have been a little harsh the other night. So, I want to give you a chance.”

A flicker of hope ignited in Ste’s chest, quickly snuffed out by suspicion. Jamie wasn’t the forgiving type. If he was offering a second chance, it had to be a trick. It was all too good to be true.

“A chance?” Ste echoed, his brow furrowing.

Jamie stepped closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “All I want is the truth. And if you give me that, I won’t get my dad to fire your mum.”

Ste’s eyes widened. “The truth?” he asked, his throat dry. “About what?”

Jamie’s smile morphed into a smug grin, his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. “About why you started picking on me,” he said, his voice light but dangerous. “It’s not like I don’t already know. I’m not stupid, Ste. I just want to hear you say it.”

Ste’s stomach churned. So, he does just want to torture me. He couldn’t admit it—not to Jamie, not to anyone. Just thinking about the truth made him feel like he was unraveling from the inside out.

“I…” Ste’s gaze dropped to the muddy ground, where faint impressions of football boot studs dotted the grass. He missed the easy days of playing with his mates, before everything had gone so wrong.

“I do,” Jamie continued, his voice cutting through Ste’s spiraling thoughts. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“Please don’t make me,” Ste mumbled, his voice cracking. The words spilled out of him in a desperate plea. “Please don’t do this. Please.”

Jamie shrugged, his expression unreadable. “It’s up to you. If you want me to even think about forgiving you, I need to hear it.”

Ste felt the words bubbling up before he could stop them. “I love you,” he blurted, his voice raw and unfiltered. The weight of the confession hit him like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t meant to say it. It wasn’t what he’d planned to say at all. It just… slipped out.

Jamie’s eyebrows shot up, his smug composure faltering for the briefest moment. “Okay, so I figured you had a little crush,” Jamie said, recovering quickly. “Love, though? That’s… stronger than I expected.”

“Please forgive me,” Ste begged, his hands clasped together like he was praying. “I’ll do anything. I’ll literally do anything you say.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting back to amusement. “Anything?”

“Yes,” Ste nodded fervently. “Anything for you.”

Jamie’s grin widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Okay. From now on, you’re my bitch. You do what I say, when I say. Got it?”

“Yes,” Ste agreed immediately, his voice trembling.

Jamie leaned back slightly, crossing his arms. “Not that I don’t trust you, but I’m going to need a little test.”

Ste froze. “A test?”

Jamie spat onto the mud at their feet. “Lick it up.”

Humiliation burned in Ste’s cheeks, but he didn’t argue. He knew better. Dropping to his knees, he pressed his lips to the muddy ground, licking the spittle with a grimace. The taste of earth and grit clung to his tongue as he stood, trying to swallow it down.

Jamie let out a sound—an odd, almost delighted squeal. “Good boy,” he said quietly, his tone dripping with satisfaction.

Ste wiped his mouth on his sleeve, his heart sinking. Is this going to be better than being his victim? Or will it be so much worse?

For a moment, the thought of running away or quitting school entirely crossed his mind. Maybe his aunt in Devon would take him in. Maybe she wouldn’t call his mum.

Or I could just kill myself, he thought, the idea dark and tempting. He stared at Jamie, waiting for the torment to continue.

Jamie cocked his head, his smile as sharp as a blade. “You don’t have to look so sad about it. You love me, right? Now you get to be with me all the time.”

Ste forced a nod, his throat too tight to speak.

“Good,” Jamie said, his voice light but edged with menace. “And don’t worry. I’ll stop torturing you... as long as you do everything I say.”

“Okay,” Ste whispered. “Thank you.”

Jamie grabbed his hand, leading him up the muddy field toward the school building. When they entered the classroom, Mr. Rogers looked up with a scowl. “You two are late. Detentions, both.”

Jamie sighed theatrically. “It’s Ste’s fault. Tell him why we’re late, Ste.”

Ste hesitated, feeling Jamie’s expectant gaze. “We’re late because I was hassling Jamie, sir,” he mumbled, his eyes fixed on the floor.

Mr. Rogers shifted uncomfortably, clearly eager to avoid digging into the details. “Detention for Ste, then,” he muttered before returning to his lesson.

Jamie shot Ste a satisfied smirk as they took their seats. Ste’s stomach twisted. He was in too deep, and there was no way out.