Killer: A Dark College Romance (Hillcrest University Book 5)

by Candace Wondrak

  Move on. Have a somewhat normal life, free of life-and-death drama.

  Yeah, that sounded nice.

  It took me a moment to shake my head and say, “No, thanks.” I said nothing else, heading around the sports car and getting in. The seat was warm because Travis had been sitting in it.

  Both Lincoln and Markus got in the white car; they were the first to drive off, heading God knew where. They supposedly had a secure location where they could take care of Ray. I didn’t know all of the details; I didn’t want to.

  I glanced to Travis. He looked tense, and I knew he probably wished he could’ve been the one to catch Ray. When it came to a serial killer, you had to be cautious. You had to be careful, and Travis, though he clearly had his family’s obsession down pat, was not as honed as Markus and Lincoln were. They had some years on him, but he’d get there eventually.

  I…I didn’t want to think about that right now.

  Travis turned his blue eyes to me, and I was stunned at how dark they looked. “I’m driving you back,” he told me, switching gears and pulling the car out of park, “and then I’m meeting them. You going to be okay tonight?”

  I nodded. “How long will you be gone?”

  “Depends how long he lasts” was his answer, and my gut clenched.

  “Okay,” I said, not knowing what else to say. I was happy Ray was off the streets, that he could harm no one else now, but why the hell couldn’t I get over the fact that he was going to die? That these three men were going to kill him, all because of me? More death. More on my shoulders.

  I really needed to step away from the blood and the gore. It wasn’t healthy.

  Chapter Eleven – Will

  Declan and Ash came over to my apartment out of the blue, and I knew why. Declan didn’t tell me all of the details, but I knew enough. Travis and his weird family were dealing with Ash’s ex tonight, and she was freaked out. She needed comfort, and what better person to give her comfort than Declan?

  And me.

  Declan and me.

  Things hadn’t quite been the same between me and Declan since our little tiff. Declan was firmly on our father’s side, though I knew, once the facts came to light, he wouldn’t be. With everything our father did, how could Declan ever stand by him? Granted, he didn’t know the pain he’d caused Mom, because Declan was too young. He didn’t see the destruction, the utter sorrow Mom held inside of her. But I did.

  I did, just like I saw what our father was doing with Sabrina—the same thing, all over again. It’s why I had to help put a stop to it, once and for all. I tried, once, to help and make things better, but I was young at the time. I didn’t know that Mom’s death would only put a pause on things.

  Dad couldn’t be stopped, ever, so I had to be the one to stop him. I had to put my foot down and say no more.

  I sat on my small couch in my tiny living room. Being in an apartment, everything was a lot smaller than it was in Sawyer’s house. I’d be commuting to Hillcrest next year, since it was already past the point where I could choose to live on campus, and all of the rentals nearby were already full. But that was fine. I’d drive hours every day if it meant I got to see more of Ash, more of Declan.

  They were the only two people in the entire world I cared about.

  Dramatic? Definitely, but I never claimed to be otherwise. I was never the smooth, suave one. I was only me, and I wasn’t that impressive. Still, somehow I’d caught Ash’s attention, and now that I had it, I wasn’t about to let it go.

  If Declan was okay with us being together, then…then we would be together.

  When a knock echoed on my door, I got up to open it. The TV was on in the background for mindless noise, and I felt a bit stiff in the midsection still, but I was getting better. Slowly and surely I’d be better. I could not wait for the day when I didn’t have to do daily exercises to strengthen the muscles that had been stabbed. Those were just a hassle.

  Declan and Ash stood outside, both looking morose, Ash a bit more so. Her face seemed too pale, and her eyes were clouded over. Those gorgeous grey orbs, so entrancing and inviting. My eyes dropped to her lips for a split-second before I welcomed them in.

  Couldn’t ogle her all night.

  Well, I supposed I could, but that was kind of creepy.

  They brought no bags with them, and as they shuffled in, I closed the door, locking the deadbolt for good measure. I had no idea whether they planned on staying the night or if they’d crash here for a few hours and then go back to Hillcrest.

  Ash plopped herself on the couch, closing her eyes and leaning her head back. Declan’s dark gaze met mine, and I wished I knew what to say, what to do, how to make her feel better and forget all about Ray.

  Truly, Travis and his family were good for one thing, at least.

  I got them both something to drink, setting the cups on the small table before the couch. Declan disappeared in the bathroom, and I measuredly made my way to her side, sitting near her, my leg brushing against hers. She bit her lower lip, most of her blonde hair tucked away under that beanie. I had to stop myself from pulling it off, from wrapping my arm around her and pulling her into me, holding her so hard that she forgot all about Ray.

  “Well,” I spoke softly, eyeing her up, “how did it go?” I already knew how it went, but everything I’d heard had been from Declan. Declan wasn’t there, wasn’t a part of it. She was; she’d seen things Declan hadn’t.

  “They got him,” she muttered, staring at her lap, where her fingers fiddled. After heaving a sigh, she bent forward, untying her laces and kicking her shoes off. She wore no socks under them, her small toes wriggling when they were free.

  I moved an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into me with no hesitation, tilting her head towards me, resting her cheek on me. “You should be happy he’s gone,” I whispered. It’s how I imagined I would feel after my father was out of the picture.

  “I am, but…” Ash lifted her head to pull her beanie off, tossing it on the floor with her shoes. She ran a hand through her hair before leaning back on me.

  “But what?”

  Declan emerged from the bathroom, and he sat beside me. Me and him squeezed on a single cushion, while Ash’s legs were spread out on the rest of the couch. Though I sat between them, his dark gaze was only on Ash.

  “Ray told me he only started killing after meeting me,” Ash said, her voice cracking a bit, the emotion plain in her tone. “I’m the reason those girls are dead.”

  “That’s not true,” Declan started, but Ash wasn’t done.

  “It is. It’s true, and there’s more.” Her head moved; instead of resting on the crook of my shoulder, it leaned against my chest, rising and falling with every breath I took. “There are more than sixteen girls. The sixteen they found at the cabin were just his…his later kills. There are more out there, somewhere. More missing girls who people eventually stopped looking for.” Her shoulders started to tremble, and I wrapped her in a firm hug, tossing Declan a glance.

  Declan’s mouth was a thin line, and he looked about as helpless as I felt.

  Comforting a girl because her psycho ex had turned into a serial killer after meeting her was…not something I was accustomed to. I didn’t know what to say to make her feel better.

  “All of those girls are dead because of me,” she added quietly. She wasn’t crying yet, but I knew by the pitch of her voice, it would soon come—and once she started crying, it’d be hard to stop her.

  My hands went to the sides of her face, pulling her off my chest. I forced that beautiful grey stare to look at me, to really look at me, and I told her, “You can’t blame yourself for something someone else did. You didn’t make him kill, Ash. You didn’t make him a monster. He was already like that, and you…you just found him at the wrong time.”

  Water formed in the corners of her eyes, and as my thumbs lightly danced across her cheeks, my other fingers in her hair, I couldn’t believe it. Ash was breaking down. Had I ever seen her cry befo
re? She’d always acted so tough, so strong…how the hell could a man like Ray Ruiz bring her to her knees?

  He’d brought me to my knees, but then again, he’d stabbed me, so it was kind of an unfair comparison.

  Her next question made my heart practically freeze: “What if it never stops?” A single tear fell from her left eye, cascading down her cheek until it met my thumb, and I was slow to wipe it away. “What if it just keeps going?”

  From beside me, Declan asked, “If what keeps going?”

  “The killing,” Ash said, slowly pulling herself away from me. I let her go, let her wipe away the excess water in her eyes. It was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. “The lies. I don’t want my life to be like this anymore.”

  I turned to look at Declan, watching him tug on the sleeve that covered the scar on his wrist before meeting Ash’s steady gaze once again. “You don’t have to worry about any of that,” I told her, meaning it.

  My father was my problem, and I’d handle him accordingly. Once he was out of the picture, there would be no more death and definitely no more lies. This girl, she deserved the world and everything in it. I hated that she’d had such a shitty life before now, hated the fact that Ray had dominated her life for the last few years, that she’d kept him a secret from everyone.

  I wasn’t a fan of secrets, which was ironic, considering mine.

  What was my secret? Oh, that was one no one knew. No one but our father, and even then, I knew it was the reason he always hated me. Declan was the favorite child, but me? I was nothing to him. I was someone he had to keep a special eye on.

  I was just the son who’d helped his mom leave this horrible, horrible world.

  He kept hurting her. He kept hurting her, and no one ever said anything about it. No one ever paid any attention to the bruises, to the way her smiles looked so broken, so tired. I might’ve been young, just twelve years old, but I knew enough. I’d watched her for so long, hating how no one else seemed to care. I didn’t fault Declan for it, because Declan was young. He was always too busy with his friends.

  Me?

  I had friends at school, but I didn’t hang out with them much at home. I was too busy trying to keep an eye on Mom, but even then, I was only a kid. I failed more than I succeeded.

  After all this time, I’d come to realize I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t help her. Mom was content to smile away the bruises, but me? I knew she needed more help than she claimed, so I planned on giving it to her.

  I would help her the only way I knew how. If I let things progress, he might kill her, and that…that wasn’t something I’d allow. No, my twelve-year-old self was firm in my belief that I could be Mom’s savior, if she let me.

  I was going to give her a way out. Maybe it wasn’t right, but it was the only thing I could think of to do.

  Dad was still at work, staying late. Declan was downstairs in the kitchen, doing his homework like a studious boy. He was a good kid, my brother. I loved him a lot, just like I loved Mom…which was why I currently headed up the stairs, holding onto something I planned on giving her.

  It was just a knife from the kitchen, but it would do its job.

  I was too young to fight back when it came to Dad, but Mom? Mom could. She just needed the right tools. If Mom stood her ground, she could stop him, I knew it without a doubt.

  Mom was in the bathroom that sat in her and Dad’s room. My bare feet drew me across the large carpeted space, and I knocked on the white door that sat deeper in the room. Her voice answered me, telling me to come in, so that’s what I did.

  The bathroom was a huge space. Nice, clean tiles, and a clawfoot bathtub, which my mom currently soaked in, bubbles hiding her naked body from me. That was good—I didn’t want to see her naked. Ew. That was just nasty.

  Her head turned to me, her hair piled up and pinned to the top of her head so it wouldn’t get wet. Her neck rested on a pillow of sorts, and even though her lips wore a smile, I knew that smile held a certain sadness that she felt deep within her bones. “Will,” she said, “what are you doing?” Her eyes fell to my hand, noting the knife. “What’s that?” Her arms moved out of the bubbly water, resting the sides of the tub.

  I saw more bruises, which was all I needed to see.

  “I brought this for you,” I said, slowly inching toward her across the giant space, offering her the knife. My hand shook only a little, and I hated that I was so weak, that I couldn’t protect her from the monster in our lives.

  She was unhurried in taking it from me, glancing at her reflection in the knife’s stainless-steel blade. “Why would you bring me a knife, Will?”

  “So you can protect yourself from Dad,” I told her, and the smile she gave me in return broke my heart. I felt like I had to grow up so fast, even though I was only twelve. I was pretty sure no one else in Midpark had problems like this.

  Mom said nothing, moving the knife to her other hand as she reached out and touched my face, running her wet fingers down my cheek softly. “It’s not your job to protect me.”

  “I know, but…”

  “You should go, honey.” The hand touching my face fell back to the tub, and her eyes moved to the knife.

  Somehow, someway, I knew something was wrong. This…this wasn’t right.

  It was a long while before Mom added, “I don’t think you’ll like what you’ll see if you stay.” A warning. A warning for me to leave.

  My feet were rooted in place, and as I stared at my mom, my stomach sank. She wasn’t going to use the knife to fight Dad. She was going to use it for another reason, a reason that made me want to be sick. I wanted to tear that knife from her grip, but it was too late.

  It was all too late. Me, giving her the knife. Me, trying to protect her. Me, trying to fix something that had been broken for so long, I couldn’t even remember what it was like before. My helping wouldn’t help at all, it would only undo the last bit of yarn that held this family together.

  “Mom,” I whispered her name sadly, watching as she lifted the knife to her neck. Mom hesitated for only a moment before dragging that knife across her neck, hard and fast, and instantly her skin split open, red spurting everywhere, staining the bubbles before her and the water she sat in.

  Blood oozed out of the tub, and I stood there, my mouth open, my eyes watering, as I watched Mom’s arm fall out of the tub, splattered in her own blood. Her head turned towards me, and she tried to speak, tried to say something—maybe tell me to leave—but it was too late. She bled too much, too fast. There was no taking back what she did, no saving her now.

  The hand that held the knife loosened, and the bloodied steel fell to the floor, clanking as it went. Her throat muscles moved a bit, but soon enough her pupils dilated and her eyes glazed over. Soon enough Mom was dead, and even though I was technically at fault for bringing her the knife, I never would’ve done it if it weren’t for Dad.

  For my father.

  No, this wasn’t my fault. This was his fault. This was his fault, and I hated him for it. I hated him with the fire of the sun itself. There was no undoing this, and I swore to myself that I would, someday, make my father pay for this.

  I let that hatred consume me for so long. It was all I thought about. I lived and breathed hatred for my father. I dreamt of the day when I would see him strung up for his crimes. That day would come soon enough, I’d made sure of it.

  The Dean of Hillcrest was no innocent man. He was the worst of them.

  To Ash, I said, “Everything will get better. I promise.”

  She shook her head, giving me a sad look that was reminiscent of the look my mom gave me that day, moments before she’d ended her life. “How can you promise that, Will?”

  “Because,” I whispered, “you have me now, and I’m going to do everything I can to protect you, Ash.” Beside me, Declan nodded in agreement. He would not disagree with me here; he would also do any and everything for this girl. She had us both utterly and completely.

  Her tears
were gone, and a smile grew on her face. It was not a tired smile, nor was it the smile of a woman who’d given up living. It was a sly smile, almost coy, but not quite. “You know, if things were different,” she said, “I would take issue with you saying you’re going to protect me, because, as you both know, I’m a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man, but…right now, I’ll take it.”

  The way she stared at me afterward made my stomach heat up. God, I wanted this woman. I craved her more than I’d ever craved anything in my entire life. We’d instantly connected not too long after the night Declan nearly died, and it had only grown stronger since then. Without her, Declan might not be here, and I could never repay her for that.

  I remembered that evening in the woods near the house, the day before Thanksgiving, and even though I knew it shouldn’t, my dick twitched. It felt so long since I’d felt that mouth on me. At one point in time, I wanted to keep her at arm’s distance for Declan, but Declan was okay with it, so why bother fighting it? Why not be with her in the way a man was with a woman he loved?

  Loved.

  Yes, I loved her. I loved Ash more than life itself.

  The last time I’d loved a woman was Mom, and…well, we all knew how that one turned out. Ash would not be a repeat of that. Ash would be different, I would see to it. I might not have protected Mom from our father, but I’d be damned if I stood back and let anyone hurt Ash. I was older now, stronger—minus the stiffness in my gut. I would do for Ash what I couldn’t do for Mom.

  That was a promise, cross my heart and hope to die.

  Chapter Twelve – Ash

  Having both brothers’ eyes on me made me feel warm all over. I wanted to forget about what went on tonight, to finally have Ray leave my mind for good. I was going to pull a card from Kelsey’s book here and say: I wanted to be fucked like crazy.