She cocks an eyebrow. “Okay. Don’t forget you made that promise to yourself. Goodnight, Olivia.”
I wave goodbye to her. She gathers her coat and purse and leaves. I know she means well. She’s concerned that I don’t have a well balanced life, but her insistence that I put my studies on hold for a bit of fun irritates me. I’m painfully behind my peers as far as life achievements go. I’m in my late twenties, so my social media feeds are full of people my age starting their careers, getting promotions, even starting families.
After high school, I took a couple of gap years to stay with Mom. I worked menial jobs, helped Mom pay the bills, and even saved up some money for myself. When I finally started college, everyone seemed so young. I realized then how behind I was. I’ve been desperate to catch up ever since.
And not to mention that if my performance here is anything less than stellar, I could lose my scholarship.
I shake off the voices in my head, and concentrate on the article I’m reading about the evolutionary roots of human sex-selection, and the differences between men and women. Just as I start getting into the zone, my phone rings. I put my face in my hands and groan. Is everyone conspiring to distract me tonight?
It’s Erin.
“Hey, Gorgeous. Are you still at the library?” Erin says. I can hear music and talking in the background.
“Yes,” I answer, impatiently.
“I thought so. Listen, leave those dusty old books for a while. Come down to Cooper’s and have a few drinks.”
“I can’t.”
“It’s Friday night,” Erin whines.
“I’m perfectly aware of the calendar,” I say, irritated sarcasm creeping into my voice.
“Boo,” Erin moans. I hear her sip noisily through a straw.
I can’t help but laugh. Erin’s getting her PhD in math. She’s the smartest person I’ve ever met, and at this school, I know a lot of smart people, yet she can act so frivolous at times. I love this contrast in her personality. But she’s okay with drinking all night at the bar, then spending hours in the math lab, hungover and stinking of booze. That’s not how I work at all. For me, everything must be in order. My days are heavily scheduled, time budgeted, and I stick to it stubbornly. I have to. Any ripple, and the entire thing topples.
“I’ll come out with you soon. I promise,” I say.
After a bit more of Erin’s protests and whining, I finally get her off the phone. I tell myself I’ll find some time in my schedule to go out with Erin, if only to get her off my back.
It’s quiet again. I close my eyes, listening to absolutely nothing. There’s no people, no cell phones ringing or texts dinging. I’m left with just my research, the voices of the scholars that came before me. It’s my goal to expand those ideas, to get closer to understanding the modern human mind. God knows, if there’s any mystery worth solving, it’s that one.
It’s quiet, and warm in here too. I leave my eyes closed, telling myself it’s just for a minute. I just need to rest.
Before I know it, I’m nodding off. My head tips forward, jerking me awake. As I open my eyes, I hear a sound, the floor creaking. My skin pricks. No one’s here. No one should be here.
I rub my eyes vigorously. I was probably dreaming. No one but me would be in the library on Friday night. I’m all alone.
Resuming focus, I go back to the article. But there’s the creaking again, no, not a creak, a groan. A chill rushes over me. These floors are old and noisy, but whoever’s making them sound like that must be huge.
Relax. It’s probably just another student. Or staff, maybe.
I need to get back to work. I’ve already wasted so much time. But my focus is hard to find. Knowing someone is here, and not being able to see them, is seriously creeping me out.
I make a deal with myself. I’ll go see who it is, just to ease my mind, then get directly back to work. Jesus, I hope I’m not turning into my mother.
With my fists clenched, I drum up the courage to venture into the darkened aisles of book. I listen carefully to the groaning, and track the sound to the American History section. I turn the corner slowly, and peek down the aisle.
I’m not prepared for what I see. It’s a man, not just a man, but a beast. He’s the largest human I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s almost as tall as the shelf. His hands alone are massive. His jaw is broad and square, which from my research I know is the result of high levels of testosterone. My fight or flight instinct kicks in. I want to disappear back into the shadows, but I let out a reflexive gasp, giving myself away.
The beast of a man looks at me. Every nerve in my body tingles. He turns, squaring his massive shoulders towards me. My brain lights up with warning. I’m alone here, and there’s no way I could defend myself against this man.
The side of his mouth rises in a half smile. There’s a flutter in my stomach. He’s handsome. Women have evolved to seek out big, strong mates like this, I remind myself. But just because I’m aware of the anthropological precedent, doesn’t mean I’m immune to it.
“You studying late too?” he asks. His low voice oozes masculinity.
I relax my shoulders, trying to appear calm. “Yep,” I say quickly. I grab a random book from the shelves, and hustle back to my desk. I can feel his eyes lingering on me from behind.
Get a grip, I think, sitting back down. He isn’t a caveman. He’s probably just a normal guy. And a hot one at that.
If I had any time for romantic relationships, or even one night stands, his presence might excite me. But I don’t, so I try my best to focus.
I can’t concentrate. The floor groans again. He’s on the move. And it sounds like he’s coming towards me.
I see him come out of the darkness. I don’t look, pretending to read, until he’s just steps away from my desk. He looks down at me from his impossible height. His gaze sends a dark electricity down my spine. Is this fear, or something else?
He sizes me up. There’s a familiarity in his eyes, like he knows me. But I certainly don’t know him.
“It’s Friday night,” he says. “Don’t you have plans with your boyfriend or something?”
“I don’t-“ I start, but stop myself. I don't want him to know that I don’t have a strong, protective boyfriend waiting for me. “I’m just, um, finishing up.”
I make the decision in an instant. I can’t stay here, not with this mountain of muscle straining the floors. I pack up quickly. He plants his hands on my desk, leaning down. I almost expect the wood to split in two under his weight.
“Leaving so soon?” he says.
“Yep.” I shove the last of my stuff into my bag. “I’m meeting a friend. She’s waiting on me.”
That’s good, I think, proudly. He needs to know I’ll be missed if something happens to me.
“Goodnight,” I toss over my shoulder, and rush to the exit, but he follows me there.
He opens the door for me.
“I’ll walk you out,” he offers. “It’s not safe for a woman to walk alone at night.”
I want to protest, but I’m too scared. Besides, I need him to leave too so I can lock the door behind us. I leave the keys in small metal box hidden under a bush so Lorie can find them in the morning.
Together, the beast and I walk into the darkened parking lot. I have to admit, I do feel safer with him by my side. No one would ever mess with me with him around.
Another example of the body guard hypothesis, I think, but shake the scholarly thoughts away. Maybe he’s trying to hit on me. Maybe he’s just being a gentleman. A tiny spark lights inside of my belly, encouraging me to be a little bold.
“What program are you in?” I ask.
“Program?” he says, looking a little flustered. “Uh, finance.”
Fear creeps up my limbs again. This is a red flag. There’s no finance program here.
“That sounds interesting,” I say, picking up my step, but he keeps pace.
Suddenly, I feel him grab my arm. His grip is so strong it takes my b
reath away, but it’s not tight enough to hurt me.
“I’ll give you a ride to meet your friend,” he says. “Save you some gas money.”
My spine turns into a straight rod. Alarm bells go off in my head. This is no gentleman, but I don’t know if I’ll be able say no to him. Don’t get into this man’s car, a voice in my head yells. My eyes flit over his hard, broad chest. Do I have a choice?
Then, like a beacon of hope, I see a golf cart drive through the parking lot. It’s campus security. My heart springs in my chest. The beast quickly drops my arm.
“Everything okay here?” the guard asks us, leaning out of the golf cart.
“We’re good here, thanks,” the beast says.
The guard looks at me. “What about you, ma’am?”
I quickly size up the guard and his chances against stopping the beast. He would not be able to help. I force myself to smile.
“Everything’s fine,” I lie.
The guard nods at us, then drives away. While the beast watches him, I dash to my car. I fumble nervously with the keys while I start the engine. I peel out of there, not looking back until I’m on the road. The beast is there, watching after me. I whip my head forward and continue driving.
*
I get at least a half a mile away before I finally start breathing again. Gripping the steering wheel, I realize I’m shaking.
I take a few quick breaths to calm myself down. After the shock wears off, I wonder if I’d interpreted the situation correctly. Had he really grabbed my arm so tightly? Was the look in his eyes really that dark and determined? Was my fear response summoned for an appropriate reason? I don’t want to be like my mom, who attributes sinister motives to the most innocent gestures.
Whatever the case, the last place I want to be is my empty apartment, with its weak locks, and the old window that doesn’t completely close. For the first time since I started at UCLA, I want to be around people and noise, music and lights. I want distraction.
Erin is in disbelief when I call her and tell her I’ll meet her at Cooper’s. By the time I get there and find her at a table in the back, she’s already ordered a beer for me, plus a few shots. I sit down, and before she lets me say anything, she convinces me to take one shot with her.
What the hell, I’m here, I think, and swallow it down. Tequila. Yuck. It’s been a while since I’ve had hard liquor. It burns my throat on the way down and makes me gag.
Erin flips her long blonde hair away from her shoulder, and leans towards me. “So, what dragged you out of the cave and into the light?”
I hadn’t planned on telling her about the powerful man who scared me away from my studies, but the tequila is already doing its work, loosening my inhibitions.
“It was the craziest thing,” I say. For some reason, I blush. Maybe it’s because I’m picturing him, and something unexpected is stirring deep in my stomach.
Erin’s eyes brighten with curiosity. “Tell me. What happened?”
I tell her about the giant in the library, the way he looked at me, how he walked me out into the parking lot, and tried to get me into his car. I tell her that he scared the shit out of me, and I got out of there as soon as I could.
Erin rolls her eyes. “He was probably trying to fuck you, and you freaked out. Jesus, Olivia, you’re hopeless sometimes.”
“I considered I could have been overreacting.” I stare into the distance, biting my lip.
Erin grabs my hand, and leads it towards a second shot. “You really need to blow off some steam. Drink up. That’s it.”
I purse my lips as the alcohol burns down my throat, though it doesn’t taste as disgusting this time around. The burning is more of a warming sensation. Could Erin be right? Was the beast in the library just hitting on me? I let my mind follow this line of thinking. What if I didn’t run away? What if I’d gotten in the car with him? What if he’d taken me back to his place, and I could feel his massive weight lying on top of me?
My cheeks flush with heat. That wouldn’t be bad at all. But it’s not me. I’ve never been that reckless.
Erin takes a sip of her mixed drink. “When’s the last time you got laid, anyhow?”
I blink up at her cautiously. “Two years,” I say with a cringe. Erin shakes with discomfort too. “Some drunken hookup with a friend while I was doing my undergrad. I can barely even remember it. I doubt I even got any pleasure from it.”
Erin takes my hand and looks into my eyes. “We need to get you laid.” She looks around the bar, then points at a tall guy in a blue polo shirt. “What about him?”
I laugh, deciding to play along. I study the man in question, then crinkle my nose. “He’s kind of scrawny.”
Erin narrows her eyes at me. “Since when are you into muscles? Could it be, the beast in the library lit a fire in you?”
I hide my face behind my hands. “Stop.” The liquor and noise and adrenaline are all floating to my head, making me feel light and free. Maybe it is worthwhile to have fun once in a while.
“Don’t worry,” Erin says, then finishes her drink in a swig. “I’ll find someone. He might not be as big as your muscleman, but I’ll do my best.”
Before I can say anything, Erin’s out of her seat and making a lap around the bar. She’s pretty and charming, so I’m not surprised when she comes back with a couple of guys only a few minutes later.
And that’s when things get fuzzy.
I remember the guy I was talking to. I don’t remember his name.
I remember him trying to put his hand on my thigh, and I didn’t want him to.
I remember walking onto the dance floor.
And then everything goes black.
Chapter Six
Bruno
This is not my scene at all. Cooper’s is crowded with frat boy types. They squeeze beside me at the bar, yelling for the bartender. The women all look the same with fried blonde hair, dark tans, and too much makeup for my taste. They probably come from small towns all over the country to attend UCLA, and when they got here, turned themselves into carbon copies of the classic LA woman. You can tell the ones that come from money, they have the fake tits.
Olivia doesn’t look like them. I watch her through the crowd. She’s sitting at a table with a blonde girl, taking shots. No, she doesn’t look like the others. Her hair is a dark shade of chestnut, and probably the color she was born with. The lashes around her eyes are dark. It could be heavy makeup, but the rest of her face is bare. Even under her frumpy button down shirt, I can tell she has a nice figure, but no interest in showing it off.
Sure, she looks unassuming, but she’s still a mafia brat. What the fuck is she doing here, anyway? Partying, drinking. Shouldn’t an egghead like her be studying? They probably don’t even make her do any work at that school. I’m sure Vince Lombardi worked out a cushy situation for her. I’ve seen it before, mafia kids with mediocre intelligence going to the best schools, where all they have to do is party while Daddy bribes the dean. After graduating, they’re rewarded with an office job and a fat paycheck. I can’t imagine it, success without having to lift a finger.
Must be nice, I think, glaring at Olivia. Little does she know her time’s up.
The security guard at the library blew my plan. It would’ve worked too. I had Olivia right where I wanted her. I saw the fear in her eyes, along with indecisiveness. She wasn’t sure if she could trust herself. Was I up to no good, or simply a nice guy? Her gut instinct had been spot on. She was right to be afraid of me.
I’ll have to try again. She’s leverage that the Mariano’s desperately need. Snake and Franco read over the list of demands Vince sent, and they’re very steep. The Lombardi’s want all of our most valuable territory. If we give it to them, we’ll be bled dry, and probably fall apart. But if we don’t comply, Anthony dies.
Snake has no idea about Olivia. He wouldn’t like it, and would order me not to do it. Well, I’m not officially a Mariano, so I figure I can operate as a free agent. I want to get the gi
rl, then let Snake sweat over the negotiations a little longer before I show him my hand. Then, I’ll be in a good position to make a deal.
I get you Anthony. You get me made.
My plan now is to wait for Olivia to leave, then follow her home. I’ll grab her from behind, clamp my hand over her mouth, and drag her to my car all before she reaches her front door. I have to keep my eye on her to make sure she doesn’t leave without me noticing.
I wave off the bartender, who’s asking for the tenth time if I want something to drink. He seems annoyed that I’m taking up so much space at the bar without spending money, but he’s too much of a pussy to say anything. Usually, I’d smack that passive aggressive smirk off of his face, but I have better things to do.
Olivia’s friend leaves her alone at the table. A few minutes later, the friend comes back with two goofy losers. One of the guys sits next to Olivia, and leans into her a little too close. This pisses me off. This woman is my conquest, not his. The poor jerk seems oblivious to the fact that Olivia’s not into him. She keeps gently pushing him back with her hand on his chest.
Tell him to fuck off, I urge her silently. Don’t worry about being polite.
If it wouldn’t blow my plan, I’d walk over there, and tell the asshole to leave her alone. I can see the look of glittering awe in her eyes now. Chicks love it when you play the white knight role. I could probably get her to suck my dick after that.
But that’s not my game here. I’m laser focused on the table, watching their every move. The blonde keeps encouraging Olivia to take shots. Soon, she’s sloppy and drunk. The blonde grabs Olivia’s hand and pulls her to the dance floor. The two guys follow them pathetically.
I realize that my plan could be ruined by Olivia’s drunkenness. She’s not in any condition to drive. She’ll probably get an Uber, or a ride from someone, hopefully not that douchebag. With someone else there, I won’t be able to snatch her.
Olivia and her friend dance together. She’s a terrible dancer, uncoordinated and offbeat. But she looks, I don’t know, free. She doesn’t seem to care about looking cool.
Beware the Beast (Mafia Soldiers Book 2) Page 3