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

by Candace Wondrak

  You’d never seen a true monster until you witness Markus shedding his mask and truly letting his inner beast out.

  “I’ll let you at him,” Markus said, “but I’ll be finishing him.” His dark eyes flicked away from the silver instruments, landing on me, as if knowing I was going to put up a fight.

  And I was. Because what the fuck.

  “Why the fuck are you going to finish him?” I asked, scowling. “It should be me—”

  “Technically, it should be Blondie, but she’s not here,” Lincoln spoke with a shrug, leaning against one of the many metal poles in the warehouse, keeping its roof up. His nickname for Ash was a bit grating, as it always had been, but I let it slide, because this was not something I’d accept and swallow without a fuss.

  Markus nodded. “And you…you’re too emotional about this. I’ll let you vent your anger, but that’s it. You’re not going to kill him.” His large, tall frame turned away from the metal cart. I was tall, but Markus had a good half a foot on me. He was a giant among men; he could intimidate anyone without even trying.

  Except me. Because the bastard was my brother.

  Half-brother, but still. Brother all the same.

  “You know you can’t let your emotions take control of you, especially while on a job,” Markus told me, a rehearsed speech I’d heard before. “When you get emotional, mistakes happen, things get messy. Needlessly messy.”

  I glared at Lincoln. Until recently, Lincoln had been off his own. I’d hardly ever seen the man, since he was over a decade older than me, but I’d heard the stories. His inner darkness wasn’t as controlled as the family liked, so they let him off, thinking he’d only make mistakes if they kept him close. He was a cop before, and now he had a pregnant girlfriend and was back with the family.

  Yeah, things changed, but in the end, it always came down to the family.

  The family was the start, and the family was the finish line. The family only let you go if you weren’t strong enough, if you couldn’t be taught. I didn’t have many sisters, specifically for that reason, and the few I did have…well, the jobs they had to do involved a bit more finesse.

  This was a battle I would not win, I realized. Arguing with Lincoln and Markus would get me nowhere.

  Ray let out a groan, and I turned to glare at him. “Go on,” Markus said. “Vent a little.” He waved his hand over the cart, adding, “One.” One instrument, one blow. Just one. I would get one go at Ray, so I had to make it count.

  My gloved hands chose a scalpel. Something small, something inconspicuous. It wasn’t the worst-looking thing on that cart, but it was the smallest. This tiny thing would do. I could’ve chosen something bigger, but I knew not to overstep. My one blow couldn’t kill him, because I wanted him to suffer, to be awake.

  No, I had to be a little creative here.

  Lincoln and Markus stood back in the shadows, letting me take front stage as I walked into the spotlight. Ray’s head slowly lifted, and his eyes blinked half a dozen times, trying to adjust to the bright light shining on him and the dark warehouse beyond it. His light, hazel eyes locked with mine, and he jerked his arms, trying to get them free. Ray’s head tilted, and he studied the chains holding his arms up.

  He wouldn’t be escaping. Not this time. This would be the end of Ray Ruiz and the Midtown Strangler.

  “Puta,” Ray hissed, swearing at me. “I knew you weren’t so different from me.” A sick, sly grin crossed his face, which was ridiculous, because the man had absolutely nothing to grin about. He would die tonight. “What will Ash think of you once she finds out?”

  “That’s the difference between you and me,” I said, taking a step closer to him, stopping when I stood less than two feet in front of him. “You hid your beast from her for years before showing her who you truly are. Me? I had her chained in my room less than a month after meeting her. I never tried to hide my beast from her.”

  Ray fought against his chains, a look of sheer revilement on his face. Again, he did not appreciate knowing I had Ash chained up in my room. Soon enough I’d have her chained up again…only next time I wouldn’t leave her alone. Next time we’d both be naked, and I’d have her all to myself for a while.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” Ray said, finally realizing that he could not escape his confinement. He stood on his feet, his arms stretched overhead, the chains unyielding. No, there was no escape for Ray Ruiz on this night. Tonight, he would meet his fate, a horrible end at the hands of me and my brothers.

  “You should be,” I told him, meaning it. Ray should be very scared right now, with what was about to happen. Most men feared death. Most men thought death would never truly come for them, especially men like him.

  Ray gave me a smirk. “Do your worst, rich boy. Whatever you got, I can handle it.” It was funny how confident the man acted, considering how he was the one captured and chained up, and I was the one who held onto a sharp scalpel with my tight leather gloves.

  I took another step closer to him, breathing in through my mouth and exhaling slowly through my nose. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” I said, pointing the sharp end of the scalpel at his face. “Ever since I watched you take Ash away from that party in Stanton.”

  His gaze narrowed. He hadn’t known I was there.

  “If I wouldn’t have been so far away, I would’ve stopped you then,” I said. “As it is, she told me everything that happened while she was with you.” My blood boiled in my veins, my heart threatening to burst from my chest as I thought of Ash and Ray together. Even if she’d been lost, even if she’d been momentarily weak, it was not something I could easily forget. “I’m going to make you regret ever laying your filthy fucking hands on her.”

  Considering the situation he was in, Ray was ballsy. “She was mine first. I had her first, and that’s something you’ll never know.” The smirk turned into a smile, and it was as he laughed—right in my fucking face—that I knew what I had to do with this scalpel.

  With the scalpel in one hand, my other hand curled into a fist, and I rammed it against his nose, feeling the cartilage snap from the sudden, strong impact. I tossed a quick look over my shoulder at my brothers in the shadows, saying, “That didn’t count.”

  It didn’t count, but it shut him up, at least. Also made a bit of blood start to seep from his nostrils. Oh, well. It wasn’t like anyone in my family was afraid of that dark red stuff.

  When Ray’s eyes locked with mine again, pure hatred sat in their hazel depths. The look he gave me could kill, but Ray’s killing days were done. This was the dawn of a new era, the last breaths Ray Ruiz would ever take.

  My scalpel-free hand shot out, gripping the base of his jaw as hard as my muscles would allow, my leather-clad fingers digging into his flesh. We were almost the same height, which would only make this easier. “My brother is going to take care of you, but I get one go at you,” I told him, slowly lifting the scalpel. “You like to smile so much, eh? I’ll make it so that you die fucking smiling.”

  And so I did.

  As I held onto the bottom of his jaw, my muscles forcing his head to stay still, Ray couldn’t even speak as I brought the scalpel to his cheek, digging it into his flesh, puncturing that tanned skin easily. The scalpel’s blade sunk into his skin, the silver disappearing as I felt it poke its way through to the inside of his mouth. Ray grimaced, a rough sound coming from his chest, and even though he tried to move, he could not.

  I had him right where I fucking wanted him.

  I might’ve cut into his gums or even his teeth, but I didn’t care. I brought the scalpel down, cutting through his cheek easily with how sharp it was. Bit by bit until the scalpel was free once it cut through the side of his lip. I did the exact same thing to the other side, and what I ended up with, the grotesque face that stared back at me, was a face even a mother couldn’t love.

  A gory, bleeding, red smile.

  A bit of the lower skin sagged a little, and Ray tried to spe
ak, but his words only sounded juicy, which was a bit nasty. I took a step back from him, moving away until I was out of the spotlight. Setting the bloodied scalpel on the cart, I glanced to Markus, saying, “He’s all yours now.”

  Markus frowned at me, his eyes two black holes. Soulless, definitely. “That was technically three, not one.”

  I glared at him. “I said the punch didn’t count.”

  “You don’t get to say what counts and what doesn’t,” he told me. “I do. I’ll remember that, Travis.”

  I let out a groan, knowing, somehow, this would come bite me in the ass later.

  But now it was his turn to move towards Ray, Markus’s turn to be the bad guy—and he was. He was the worst guy, but he got the job done. I probably could’ve gotten Ray on my own, but this…there would be no witnesses for this, no body. After Ray was dead, he would take his body and bring it somewhere where it would never be found again.

  My family had its connections…and also a giant furnace in the basement.

  Markus didn’t wear his gloves yet. He still wore his suit as he stepped into the spotlight, causing Ray’s eyes to snap to him. “Who the fuck are you?” Ray spat, blood oozing down his jaw and chin from the cuts I made.

  Markus said nothing, taking his time to undo the buttons keeping his suit jacket together. He slid it off, folding it before he set it on the edge of the cart, away from the bloodied scalpel. “I,” he finally spoke, undoing the latch that held his watch tight against his wrist, setting it down on his suit jacket. Next was his tie, which he loosened with a slow yank of his hand, as if he’d done this ritual a thousand times before.

  And he had. He was a part of the family, after all.

  With the suit jacket, tie, and watch sitting where they would not get stained, he began to roll up his sleeves, fold by fold. “Am Markus.” He turned and moved in front of Ray again. He did not wear a vest beneath the suit jacket, only a dark button-up shirt. It was as he worked to roll up the second sleeve that he added, “And you should be very afraid of me.”

  Ray said nothing, which was probably smart of him. Markus did not take disrespect lightly.

  “You see,” Markus went on, reaching into his pockets and pulling out his own pair of black leather gloves. He slid one on. “It’s easy to let the thrill of the kill take hold of you. That doesn’t prove you’re anything special.” The second glove was next, and he flexed his fingers. “It’s harder to keep a clear head while cutting into someone, to stay calm, even when you want to lose yourself in the metallic smell that fills the air.”

  Markus moved before Ray, locking eyes with him. Not a single sound in the warehouse, except for Ray’s hard breathing.

  “I can smell your blood,” Markus spoke, near emotionless as he asked, “Can you?” When Ray said nothing, he went on, “Do you think you’ll realize it, the moment your heart slows and your eyes roll back in your head? Do you think you’ll be aware of the blackness approaching as you die?”

  Turning his back to Ray, Markus moved to the cart and grabbed a serrated knife. It was the same knife Ash had brought home with her, the same one that had seen much use. It was Ray’s knife, which made it all the sweeter when Markus turned and showed it to him.

  “Truth be told, I’ve always wondered what it was like,” Markus said, lightly touching the tip of the knife as he returned to Ray. Ray’s hazel eyes settled on the serrated, stained steel, but he still said nothing. “To die. I imagine it’s frightening. But I’m not like you. I don’t feel fear.” He took the knife to Ray’s face, dragging it down flat so as to not cut him, staring at his forehead, slowly inching its way down to the deep cut I’d made in his cheek.

  The serrated steel caught on the cut, peeling the lower half of his cheek down and causing him to grimace and let out a groan.

  “I also don’t feel pain,” Markus muttered as he continued to draw the knife down, cutting into Ray’s shirt and opening it, revealing a scarred torso. The scar where Ash had stabbed Ray was plain on his gut. “It makes it difficult for me to gage pain when it comes to others. Sometimes, I go a little overboard.”

  Markus dragged the knife across Ray’s chest, digging it in just enough to cut him, to break apart his flesh and cause him to bleed, but not enough to harm him. Not enough for him to die or black out. Ray’s adrenaline was already pumping from my wounds on him; Markus had to be careful if he wanted Ray to stay awake during all of this.

  And that…that was something I needed. I needed Ray to feel every ounce of pain Markus could give him.

  Markus might claim he was always level-headed, but I knew it wasn’t quite true. He had the same emotions everyone else had; he just kept them in check. He was better about it. He was, frankly, the pinnacle of what the family stood for, the man who got things done. He was not someone you’d ever want to cross.

  “I would ask you to warn me if I’m going too far, but I think we both know that you’re not making it out of this night alive,” Markus said, pulling the bloodied knife from Ray’s torso, where he’d made another cut. A cross sat, carved into the serial killer’s flesh, a superficial wound, but one that bled profusely.

  “Fuck you,” Ray muttered, his words slimy and slick because of his bleeding, cut cheeks. The lower half of his face was coated in red, his neck, too. With his shirt cut open, his torso would get there soon enough.

  “Fuck me,” Markus repeated, a grin growing on his face as he turned to glance at us. “I’ve never heard that one before.” Someone who didn’t know Markus would assume he was serious, but I knew he was joking, as did Lincoln. Turning back to Ray, Markus’s hand gripped the knife harder, its tip placed precariously over his stomach. “No, fuck you.” And then the knife dug in, puncturing his flesh effortlessly.

  Just one, quick stab, and then Markus withdrew the knife, its steel dripping a fresh red. Ray would’ve buckled over, had his arms not been pulled tight above his head.

  I watched as Markus laid the knife between Ray’s ribcage, and as he stabbed him again, purposefully avoiding his heart, I couldn’t help but wonder what Ash was doing right now, if she was with Declan and Will trying to forget that this was happening. I was doing the dirty work—well, technically Markus was, now—and Ash got to relax and have fun.

  Felt kind of wrong, but if there was one girl out there who I’d do anything for, it was Ash. I wouldn't be here for any other girl. The mere thought of me sharing was…ridiculous, considering my obsession with her, but I wanted her to be happy, and if her being happy meant I had to get a little bloody while she was with her other boyfriends, then I guessed that’s what it meant.

  At least Ray would be gone. At least I’d never have to worry about him swooping in and stealing her away from me again.

  A loud cracking sound rose in the warehouse as Markus shoved the serrated steel up into Ray’s neck, angling it so that it would push up and puncture his brain. Just like that, Ray was dead, his head falling forward as Markus released his hold on the knife. His body released his bowels, and Markus stepped away, looking at Lincoln.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Lincoln muttered. “I get fucking cleanup duty, even though I didn’t get to have any fun—”

  “Killing is not fun,” Markus rattled off, but when both Lincoln and I stared at him, a slow smirk spread across his face, though he said nothing else.

  Well, at least Ray Ruiz died with a smile on his face.

  Chapter Fourteen – Will

  I sat on the couch as Ash and Declan were in the shower. Try as I might, I couldn’t get the thought of her wet, naked body out of my mind. I didn’t get to see her as often as Declan, so I felt a bit weird about it. I knew Declan was okay with it, but…was it moving too fast? If I was with her tonight, would she regret it in the morning? I knew I wouldn’t, but I didn’t want her to feel any ounce of regret when it came to me, especially because she’d come to be one of the most important people in my life.

  She and Declan were seriously it.

  I was so lost in my mind that I didn’t
hear the bathroom door open, didn’t hear the soft patter of footsteps in the hall. I nearly jumped out of my skin when Ash appeared, wearing the clothes I’d given Declan for her—just a t-shirt and some flannel pajama pants. They were ridiculous big on her, but she’d rolled up the waist.

  With her wet hair, her skin a bit pink from the hot water, she looked good.

  No, better than good. She looked achingly beautiful.

  Ash sat on the couch beside me, her grey eyes studying me, as if she couldn’t quite get a hold on me. I still heard the shower running, so Declan was still in there, giving Ash and I a semblance of privacy. She tucked her wet hair behind her ears, moving her feet under her backside. She was so small; I could never sit like that, almost like a little ball on the couch, kind of like a cat, the bottom of her legs just disappearing.

  “Are you okay, Will?” she asked, breaking the silence. Well, the room wasn’t really silent, as the TV was still on, though its volume was low. “You seem a little out of it. Is it because of your dad?”

  That was easier to attribute things to than the truth. I knew Ash didn’t want any more lies, but I also knew that she couldn’t find out the truth. Not about this. Sometimes the truth hurt, and I wanted to protect her. Her and Declan; I would do anything for them, including lie to the police. Including placing that diary where it belonged, in my father’s office.

  “It’s just a lot,” I told her, reaching for her, running my fingers through the ends of her damp hair. “I hate that Declan and I are at odds about it.” That much, at least, was true.

  Ash leaned into me, pressing her face against the crook of my neck, breathing me in. “If you ever need anything, you know I’m here.” Her hands moved to my sides, one of them touching my stiff abdomen, where I’d been stabbed. It didn’t hurt, though. I could at least have her touch it without pain shooting down each and every nerve in my body. Progress.