Killer
Hillcrest University: Book 5
Candace Wondrak
© 2019 Candace Wondrak
All Rights Reserved.
Book cover by Victoria Schaefer at Eve’s Garden of Eden – A Cover Group
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Chapter One – Ash
Chapter Two – Travis
Chapter Three – Ash
Chapter Four – Will
Chapter Five – Ash
Chapter Six – Declan
Chapter Seven – Ash
Chapter Eight – Travis
Chapter Nine – Ash
Chapter Ten – Ash
Chapter Eleven – Will
Chapter Twelve – Ash
Chapter Thirteen – Travis
Chapter Fourteen – Will
Chapter Fifteen – Ash
Chapter Sixteen – Declan
Chapter Seventeen – Travis
Chapter Eighteen – Ash
Chapter Nineteen – Ash
Chapter Twenty – Will
Chapter Twenty-One – Ash
Chapter One – Ash
I could not get over the smooth plane of Declan’s chest, how he breathed so evenly, so serenely, even when he laid beside me. How his chest rose and fell with each breath, the flat stomach on his abdomen holding the faintest traces of square abs. He’d never been super muscular; he’d always been thinner. Before this year, he’d been lost in his own depression thanks to losing Sabrina. Now, I’d like to think he was past that, but could you ever really move on from losing someone you loved?
Granted, he and Sabrina weren’t together when she died, but still.
D. Briggs.
That’s what the suicide note had said. Not Declan. Everyone assumed she’d meant Declan, because why would she ever write about Dean Briggs, his father? Surely someone would’ve known if Dean Briggs was in some kind of illegal relationship with Sawyer’s little sister?
But that’s the thing about life, I guessed. Some things you thought were obvious were hidden in plain sight, and the things you thought were beyond confusing really had simple explanations.
As I lay with Declan on the bed, the bed in Sawyer’s house we’d made our own, I couldn’t help but watch him in the darkness. He was naked, a light sheen of sweat lining his body. I wore Declan out easily. I couldn’t…for some stupid reason, I just couldn’t find it in my heart to tell him what Sawyer had told me before going off to rehab.
He deserved to know, but…a part of me didn’t want to tell him, because I didn’t know how he’d take it. He seemed to like his father. And, honestly, I kind of did, too. Dean Briggs had been super nice to me and my mom all throughout the process of me playing the guinea pig at Hillcrest. He’d given me a meal card, asked me to keep an eye on his son, and he genuinely seemed like a good father.
Not that I had much to compare him to, since my own no-good dad had been out of the picture for forever, save for the few gifts he sent me to win my love or some shit.
We were supposed to be done keeping secrets. No more secrets, no more lies. All of that was supposed to be in the past, but as I lay there, watching Declan sleep, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was keeping to that promise.
Was Declan hiding something from me? Were Ray’s words true?
Ray had told me he hadn’t hurt Declan, and I instantly shrugged him off. I didn’t want to believe him, didn’t want to think of the possibility that one of my guys would hurt himself for…for what? For attention? For something equally as ridiculous?
Then again, it was that same day when I’d missed a bunch of texts and calls from Declan, because I was busy being chained up in Travis’s room. So, really, it wasn’t too far out of the picture. It wasn’t that far-fetched, as much as it pained me to admit. Declan thought he was losing me, so he cut himself, realized I wasn’t going to get there to save him in time, and so then he called his brother.
Oh, Declan. If that was true, what was I going to do with him? I didn’t want to be with anyone who would try to manipulate me like that. Of course, that said nothing about the whole Travis-locking-me-up-to-punish-me thing. Yeah, I still never got back at him for that—now, though, it just felt a little silly, after everything else that had happened.
Ray, Sawyer losing his shit, Kelsey sleeping with Sawyer, Travis going apeshit on Brooklyn and her Batman. Brooklyn….Brooklyn literally being torn apart in front of me.
Yeah. So much had happened since the day he tried to punish me for going on a date with Sawyer. So, so much. My life was like one of those never-ending crime dramas. Just when you thought the bad guy was in plain view, another thing popped up, and the bad guy escaped.
It was a good thing Travis had called for back-up then. Ray had been doing this for years. We needed professionals, and it sounded like Lincoln and Markus were as professional as you could get when it came to killing.
Yeah. There were killers in this house, but for whatever reason, I wasn’t afraid of them, even if I should be. I knew Travis was one of them, or he would be. They were his family, and he was expected to join the family business after college. Now I knew what that family business was.
Things were just too damn complicated, and I knew if I stopped and really thought about it, I’d know being with any of these guys—let alone multiple—would be an unwise decision. I’d like to say that I steered clear of bad decisions on a regular basis, but I’d kept Ray to myself for years, knowing it was wrong to date someone who was twice my age.
So, technically, me and wise decisions didn’t often mix.
The light that had come in through the window near the bed had fallen, and now the world of night crept along. Declan was fast asleep, a sheet hanging on his right leg and covering his midsection, hiding his private parts from view. I was still naked, but I was not tired at all.
Ever since seeing Brooklyn die, I couldn’t sleep.
Me having trouble sleeping was nothing new. Nightmares of that cabin had haunted for so long, random panic attacks taking hold of me and refusing to let go. I didn’t think I was that sick and depraved to enjoy killing, or even enjoy the mere thought that over a dozen girls had met their end at the hands of my ex.
I wasn’t like that. I didn’t follow the serial killer podcasts and the criminal reports or the news. I wasn’t obsessed with serial killers and their particular brand of madness like most of this nation was. I was…well, I was just me. I was just me, and I didn’t enjoy getting splattered in blood or feeling its gooey warmth running down my hand.
Sometimes, when I closed my eyes, I still pictured that girl in the basement, the look on her face when Ray took my hand and jabbed it into her gut. Ray might’ve killed her, but I helped him.
When it came to Brooklyn, I wasn’t exactly sorry she was dead—I frankly believed the world was a better place without her in it—but I didn’t want to relive it every time I was alone. Every time I heard a car drive by on the main road. It was awful. Awful because I knew, if that girl had never crossed paths with me, she’d still be alive.
Brooklyn would be alive, Sawyer would�
�be Sawyer, Travis would find someone else to obsess over, and Declan—well, I wasn’t sure what Declan would be doing if I’d never come to Hillcrest. Would he still be mopey and depressed? Would he have tried to kill himself?
And what about Will?
Will was a bit of an enigma. The connection between us was immediate, and still it was like he wanted to fight it, wanted to let Declan have me, even though Declan was okay with us being together. I’d thought that day in the woods near the Briggs’s house would have changed things, but did it? Will was coming to Hillcrest next semester, in a little over a month, and still he felt like the odd one out. Would he feel like that once he was here, around me more often?
Time would tell. It was the greatest equalizer.
I heaved a quiet sigh as I silently got out of bed. I bent to pick up a shirt, my fingers finding Declan’s t-shirt in the darkness. Didn’t want to spend the time searching for my own clothes, so this would do just fine. I slipped it on over my head, tugging it down. It was long enough to cover my bare ass and the warm place between my legs. Even though Declan wasn’t overly ripped, the shirt was still super baggy on me.
Mom had always told me to eat more, that I was too thin, but I’d come to learn that this was my body. To think, in the beginning, I was worried about the freshman fifteen. If I gained that fifteen pounds, maybe I’d actually look normal, less toothpick-thin. Hell, I was borderline anorexic probably, but with all of my problems, it was one of the last ones I’d deal with.
First, Ray.
Then…okay, let’s just focus on Ray. Everything else that came after, we’d focus on later.
I tiptoed out of the room, slipping out before closing the door behind me. Declan was fast asleep, and I didn’t want to wake him. It wasn’t that late though. And even if it was, odds were I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep anyways. Caffeine had become my friend these last few days.
Oh, yeah. We had a plan to take care of Ray. I was pretty much forced to go to my classes, simply being told that I’d be watched by either Lincoln or Markus, and that the others would be keeping an eye out for Ray. Travis and Declan were using the buddy system, too—and Declan and I made sure to talk to Will just about every hour.
The plan would take place this weekend, provided everything worked out. Provided Ray was watching me, waiting. If he decided to go after one of the guys, well. Will would obviously be the easiest one to go after, and I prayed that I was tempting enough to him to keep him here a bit longer.
Bait.
I was going to be the bait. That was all I knew. Once they got him, I didn’t want to know what they were going to do to him. A part of me wanted in on it; a part of me wanted to watch Ray bleed and hear him scream, but considering the fact that I couldn’t sleep after watching Brooklyn’s body get torn in two…well, it was probably best for me to stay away from step two of the plan.
My bare feet drew me down the stairs. Both Lincoln and Markus were in the living room. Markus was on the couch, fiddling on his phone, while Lincoln was in the kitchen, whining about food.
Again.
That man and his food. From what I understood, he had a friend named Ed who was the best cook around.
Around here, the only chef he’d get was Chef Boyardee.
It was a little weird for me to prance around mostly naked in front of two older strangers—Lincoln was in his early thirties I was pretty sure, while Markus was at least in his mid-twenties—but I didn’t care. I wanted Travis, and I saw Travis standing outside on the patio, smoking.
It wasn’t like I was prancing around and flashing ass, anyway. The shirt covered everything, and it wasn’t like Lincoln or Markus looked at me. They knew I was Travis’s, and they knew Travis well enough to avoid stepping on his toes. Obsession ran deep in the family, I heard, and everyone in the family knew enough to not cross anyone’s current obsession.
I was Travis’s, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he would eventually move on from me. The thought hurt, and yet…yet I was sane enough to realize that this strange relationship probably wouldn’t last in the real world, assuming we made it throughout our years at Hillcrest.
A terrible thing to think. A sobering reality I did not want to face. Add it to the pile of other things I didn’t want to face.
Ray. Sawyer. Kelsey. The thing with Declan. Honestly, too many things. A normal eighteen-year-old didn’t have to deal with this sort of shit, you know? Felt like I had to grow up way too fast. I was supposed to be having fun, doing shit and getting drunk. Like Kelsey.
No, I didn’t want to be like Kelsey. She obviously had some problems of her own, even though she wasn’t forthcoming with them. I didn’t blame her for getting with Sawyer, but I still wasn’t too happy when I thought about it.
The wound would heal, but it would take a long, long time to fully close, and even after it was healed, the scar would remain. A part of me would never forget the look on my best friend’s face while Sawyer pummeled her from behind.
Granted, I had no room to talk, because I’d shown Ray weakness—and it was that same weakness he’d pounced on. It was due to that weakness that he now thought I would eventually return to him, even if he murdered every single person I’d ever met.
He was a madman, truly. A crazed killer.
Being an obsession of a psychopath? Not too fun.
I walked past both Lincoln and Markus, slipping out of the house. The air was cold outside, but standing near the smoking boy made it bearable. Travis sat on one of the patio chairs, inhaling from his cigarette, filling his lungs with smoke. I wasn’t a fan of the smell of smoke, but when it came to Travis, I’d admit, I was starting to like it.
The house was secure, the yard too. Markus had set up some cameras, teeny, tiny things that you wouldn’t notice unless you really, really looked. They went off anytime someone was close by, or if someone tried to tamper with them. We were as safe as we could be on the patio.
Travis’s dark blue eyes noticed me, though they looked more black than blue under the moonlight. His dark hair was a bit greasy, cut short and swept to the side. He adjusted his position in the chair, reaching a tattooed arm out to me, the one that held the dragon, the dragon that I knew on past experience wrapped up his entire arm and onto his shoulder and back.
I reached for the outstretched hand, allowing him to pull me onto his lap. His knees came together, and I curled against his chest, resting my head upon his shoulder. Dark stubble lined his square jaw, his nose looking a little crooked from this angle.
Travis was the tattooed bad boy of every girl’s dreams. I’d known from the first moment I laid eyes on him that he was my kind of trouble, but then…at first, I hadn’t really known the true Travis. Now I did. Now I did, and I knew I should walk in the other direction.
Maybe even run.
Did I? Did I do what I should do? Of course not. I was as addicted to him as he was to me. It was why I hadn’t brought up the fact that I knew he’d hidden Ray’s presents to me. If you could call severed body parts presents. Me? I wasn’t the kind of girl who enjoyed opening presents like that.
So in a way, I supposed I was thankful to Travis for keeping them from me. In another way, though, I was ticked. It should’ve been my choice, not his. Him keeping them from me, acting like the perfect liar, did not instill my confidence in him.
I breathed in through my nose, inhaling the smell of smoke. It was something I’d come to associate with Travis, along with tattoos and the color blue. Blue eyes, hair that was so black it appeared blue in certain light. He was truly the make-your-panties-wet kind of guy, the kind that could make your inner thighs quiver with just a fast glance.
“I can’t sleep,” I murmured, watching from his shoulder as he set his cigarette aside, dropping it on the patio. Both his hands then came to me, his arms wrapping around me, a silent strength seeping into me from his touch.
I didn’t want to confront Travis yet, just like I didn’t want to confront Declan yet. I just wanted to close my eyes and not
picture the bright red blood that soaked the pavement after Brooklyn was torn apart. I wanted to forget how warm her blood was when it splattered onto me. How her intestines and organs looked drawn out…
Travis’s chest rumbled; I listened to the guttural sound, enjoying it in spite of myself. Like he was an animal and not a man. Like Travis was a beast waiting to emerge. I was still kind of ticked about the chains in his room, but if he decided to bring them out for another reason, well…I wouldn’t say no.
He spoke quietly, “And Declan couldn’t help you get to sleep?”
“No,” I said, reaching a hand up to his face, lightly tracing his stubbly jaw. Each little hair was like a tiny prickle on my skin, and the hand only stopped when it cupped the entire right side of his face, tilting it toward me.
Travis’s lips curled into a smile, and my gut heated up of its own accord. My body simply reacted to him, to Declan, to Will. Even to He Who Shall Not Be Named, who wouldn’t be back in Hillcrest until next semester. I never knew I could feel so strongly for more than one man before. I never pictured my life with multiple boyfriends.
Did it make me a skank? Did it make me a whore?
You know what? After everything I’d been through, I didn’t care. I craved each of these guys to the point where I’d be happy if they were all I had left in life. I needed them all, and to have any hope of keeping them all, we had to deal with Ray.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until he’s gone,” I whispered, running my thumb over his small smile. I’d say he was smirking, but the word smirk only made me think of Sawyer, and right now he was gone.
“Don’t worry about him,” Travis told me, sounding amazingly confident, in spite of the fact that Ray had nearly killed Declan a few days ago. And that said nothing about me being in the crosshairs of the investigation of Brooklyn’s death and the old people in the trunk. “We’ll take care of him.”
Take care of him really meant kill him. I spoke psychopath now. It was a learned skill, not one I was born with.
Killer: A Dark College Romance (Hillcrest University Book 5) Page 1