Kings of Quarantine (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep #1) - Caroline Peckham ,Susanne Valenti Page 0,73

brown hair and freckles dotting her cheeks. She was a small girl, but that was by no means the continuing trend around the table. There was a guy at the far end who was the size of a damn tank. And he’d been one of the head-bowers!

“It’s Tatum,” I corrected her firmly and her eyes darted to a guy across the table on my other side for guidance. He had copper hair and a handsome, quirky sort of face. The others looked to him too and I guessed he was their leader or whatever. Though honestly, this Unspeakables bullshit was really going too far. Saint, Blake and Kyan were really embodying this whole Night Keepers legend thing way too much. They couldn’t just go around making people do their bidding because they’d pissed them off somehow. It was ridiculous.

“You’re Plague,” the guy said with a dark frown. “Whether you like it or not I’m afraid.” He gave me a pitiful look and I ground my jaw.

“If anyone at this table calls me Plague I’ll beat their head in, got it?” I demanded.

They all shared anxious glances and I had the feeling I was sitting at a table with a bunch of field mice.

The leader gave me another sad look and I glared back at him.

“I’m Bait,” he said, his tone softer. “We don’t wanna upset you. We’re on your side.”

I nodded stiffly, not liking being banded in with these people who’d clearly had their backbones surgically removed by the Night Keepers.

“I’m Freeloader,” the freckly girl said, offering me a friendly smile.

“What’s with the weird ass names?” I asked, bringing up the menu app on my phone. This day was enough to give me stomach pains as it was, but if I didn’t eat, I was gonna feel even worse.

“We have to relinquish our names as a commitment to making up for offending the Night Keepers,” the big guy at the end of the table said in his deep tone. “If we serve them well, they’ll forgive us and let us be part of society again. But in the meantime, we’re named after our crimes. So I’m Punch.”

My heart lit up at that name and a smile pulled at my mouth. “Does that mean you punched one of them?” I asked excitedly.

Punch’s eyes darted left and right like he expected a cat to come up and pounce on his little mousey head. “Yeah,” he breathed.

“Which one?” I asked, leaning forward in my chair. “Was it Saint?” I asked hopefully. Man his face would look so good punched.

Punch swallowed hard enough to make his whole throat bob. Then he shook his head.

“Kyan?” I asked, leaning even further forward. “Tell me you floored the cocky bastard.”

Everyone around the table was shifting uncomfortably and Punch lifted his napkin to dab at the sweat collecting on his forehead. He shook his head once more and I barked a laugh.

“You hit Blake?” I guessed and he nodded.

“I used to be on the football team. We got in a fight…” he whispered.

“And I used to be a cheerleader,” a girl beside him said. She had long auburn hair and a model worthy face, her eyes wide and darkest blue, glistening with tears.

“At least you used to be cool, Deepthroat,” Freeloader said with a pout. “I’ve always been at the bottom of the pecking order.”

“Oh boohoo. That just means I had a lot farther to fall from grace than you did,” Deepthroat said with a huff and I just had to freaking ask what she’d done to earn that name.

“Why Deepthroat?” I arched a brow and she pursed her lips as the others exchanged glances.

“I just offered Kyan a blowjob, that’s all,” she said firmly.

“Well, that wasn’t all, was it?” Punch muttered.

Bait waved a hand to hush them and curiosity burned through me. “Enough. You know we’re not supposed to talk about our previous lives,” he said firmly.

I turned to Bait with my lips parting. “Come on, that’s insane. Besides, they can’t even hear us over here,” I said in disbelief.

“Y-you n-never kn-know wh-when they’re l-l-listening.”

I glanced at the pale-faced guy who’d spoken. He was the smallest person at the table; his blazer was two sizes too big for him and even his lanky black hair looked oversized for his head.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“S-squits,” he stuttered.

My heart tugged at how royally screwed up this guy clearly was. He looked like he was about to spontaneously combust at any moment.

“Squits?” I wrinkled my nose. “What did you do?”

Squits