by Celia Crown
This man is on a whole new level.
I say a prayer in my head for Moira and duck out into a shortcut that only students who have been in the art building for a while would know.
I shudder. There’s a patch of wetness in my underwear, and I wrinkle my nose.
I chalk it up to be the heat.
Chapter Two
Derek
I have seen all types of scumbags in my days.
Those who think they can outsmart me by escaping the country, those who hire contracted killers to take me out but they use discounted assassins to do the job, and those who have the guts to stand up to me.
Most of them are scared shitless when they see me. It’s mostly due to my reputation and the size of my body. I can crack a few skulls without breaking a sweat.
They beg and beg for mercy, but I have no remorse for them as they knew the risk of borrowing money from a loan shark. It’s a business that I have been doing for years, and it’s about the same old thing that repeats itself.
They borrow money, get into late payment, and then have the audacity to ask for more time even though I warned them the moment they took my money.
I can’t kill them no matter how obnoxiously ugly they are when they cry; death gets me nothing.
I have had daughters offered to me as payment, I have had big promises of money if they had more time, and I have had people trying to use their body to buy time or completely wipe off their debts.
If they thought I was a weak man, they haven’t seen the side where I am not very kind. Their bones cannot bear the strength of my grip. It’s quite amusing to watch them come to the realization that paying back my money with interest is the only way they can survive.
A woman named Rebecca Shaw had borrowed money from me two years ago, and I remember her as a young woman who had flaming red hair and a pregnant stomach. I may be the ruthless and coldhearted loan shark, but I’m not heartless.
I gave her two years to pay me back as it would accumulate more interest.
I never said I was a decent human being, more of the opposite.
When she didn’t return my money and dropped off the face of the earth, I swore that I would personally find her. She is going to learn that crossing me is her biggest mistake in life, and the only Rebecca Shaw I could find was studying in a college.
I had no time to waste and immediately tracked her down. Her picture was not what I remembered from years ago. She had gotten younger and more strikingly beautiful with her luscious, red hair and liquid brown eyes. Her big tits and round ass give her an hourglass shape that I love to sink my hands into.
Something keeps nagging at the back of my mind, but that warning flew out of my head the moment I saw her walking on the college ground.
Her stupidly-dressed friend gets left behind with me while she ran away after I had called out to her. I can tell straight off the bat that her friend finds me attractive and wants me in her bed, but she’s the last person I would be interested in.
I find the most tempting pureness comes from the skittish features Rebecca Shaw has; it makes trapping her little body under mine just more fun.
Whether she realizes it or not, she is mine the moment I saw her picture.
I left her friend gaping and speechless behind, as I was in desperate need to find her before she goes too far. I know where her dorm is, but having a man walking into her room with people around would cause an uproar. I don’t want to deal with security putting their hands on me.
I certainly do not want their hands on her plump body. Only I can touch that supple skin and mar it with my marks.
Turning into the corner where she disappeared, I look around the startled students and follow their eyes to where they all land. It’s a lecture room that I step into, and there is another door on the other side of the room. My eyes narrow at the measures she’s taking to avoid me for something she probably doesn’t know because she doesn’t recognize me.
That doesn’t matter because I remember her.
The faint memory of Rebecca Shaw does not match up to the beauty she is right now.
The door leads to another hall, and I turn my head to see if I can catch a glimpse of her red hair or a whiff of her scent.
There is a long walk to one side and another with a door in front of me. I take this route because instincts tell me that she would want to get as far from me as possible. The flight of stairs is long and cut into three sections. I make it down in time to see a glimpse of the red hair behind a door that is about to close.
A game of cat and mouse makes my heart beat faster against my ribs as I whizz past a couple of students in my way; the distance covered by my legs is more than her shorter ones can create. Once I slam open the door, I zero in on the figure waiting by the bus stop and everything is wrong about her.
She’s taller than Rebecca, her hair is not as healthy, and her legs are not the pair of plushy thighs that I want to bury my face in. Her face is definitely not what I had imagined; she isn’t who I’m looking for.
I silently curse her red hair and turn back into the building.
I glance down on my watch and hiss under my breath. I have another meeting with the world’s lowest trash. It’s one of the men who had been asking for more time and spewing out excuses as to why he can't return the money. The more time he wastes, the more bones I break in his body.
He’s bringing this upon himself.
I’ll just have my men hold him, let him sweat for a bit while I track down my little mouse. Her dorm should be the only place she feels safe in, and I’m going to take it away from her, she has to go back at some point, I have time to spare and I better get my reward for being patient with her.
I would have broken her legs if she was anyone else.
Sandy Hall is a regular building with thirty stories, and she lives on the twenty-seventh with the girl who tried to seduce me.
I hate women who try too hard; they make me sick. If I find anyone attractive, it’s not going to be from a layer of fakeness that threatens whoever is underneath. Young woman these days mature too fast, and they fall just as quickly; they want fame and whatever they find appealing.
I have had my share of women throwing themselves at me, and I have gotten excellent at dodging their attempts. Young women want an older man to spoil them and demand things that are supposed to be gifts while doing absolutely nothing to deserve them.
Men are creatures who think with their dick.
Mine happens to want to do whatever Rebecca says.
Some men just want to spoil their arm-candy. It’s their money, and they can spend it however they see fit.
If Rebecca wants me to wipe off her loans, then she needs to work for it.
I’m open to suggestions.
“Uh, can I help you?” A man raises an eyebrow. He had a set of keys hanging from his pants’ hook.
“Rebecca Shaw,” I growl, starling him as his eyes widen at my voice.
Reacting to the perpetual scowl and my impatient voice, he stammers out her floor number and points to the elevator.
“Um, should I tell her that you’re here to visit her? It’s rare that a parent visits at the time for finals.”
“No,” I glare.
Having to be mistaken for her father is an insult, but it’s a conclusion that no one can be blamed for. I am older, and I shouldn’t have any reasons to be in her dorm unless I’m her relative.
It still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth that she is seen to be my daughter.
What I want to do with her is not appropriate for a father and daughter relationship, and I plan on doing what I want with her when I get my schedule cleared to focus on her.
“Just want to let you know,” the boy said, stopping me from getting to the staircase.
I prefer my body working rather than lazing around; the elevator is not going to help my body stay in shape. I start to itch if I don’t work my body. Sitting around in an office is not my thing, and it’s the reason why I person
ally go to collect the debts.
“Moira, her roommate, is a bit of an odd gal. Don’t take anything she does seriously,” the boy warns.
I have met her, and she is almost gone from my mind. The only thing I’m focused on is Rebecca. I’m going to teach her that I’m not a man she can ignore, and I won’t be the type of man to relinquish my control and dominance over anyone.
What I want, I get through any means necessary.
I crack the staircase door open and leave the boy behind without answering him. The flights of stairs are not too long for me to get annoyed. Twenty-seven flights of stairs are nothing to me; I track down runners who have no money to give back around the city all the time.
They give up before they make it to five blocks, but I do give credit to one woman who ran bare feet for one mile before I got to her. It turned out she was a marathon runner before she got into gambling, and she coughed up her money that was hidden in her home.
Redoubling my steps, I speed up the flights of stairs quickly, using the railing to pull me up as I catch the stair number from the corner of my eye.
It’s the floor that I want to be on. I walk into the hall where two girls gasp and hold their laundries to their chest. They’re underdressed and shocked that I came out of nowhere. They rack their eyes over my body, and I bark at them to look away.
They hurriedly run past me while whispering under their breath. I hear a door slam behind me as I search for the room number. The boy downstairs never gave me Rebecca’s room number, but I know it by looking at her files. I always use illegal ways to obtain information. My line of work is not exactly to be on the best terms with the city police.
I stand in front of the door and knock twice. It’s loud and reverberating. There is no answer, and I knock again. Finding that no one is in the room, I’m tempted to break in and wait for her. I decide against it; avoiding security is the best thing I can do right now.
I wait with my back against the wall and arms crossed over my chest. My face settles into a deeper scowl as more students run past me with their curious eyes sticking to me like glue. I reserve my energy by not glaring at them and stare at the wall in front of me.
I look down on my watch. It’s been forty-five minutes since I last saw her. She might not be back until later as I know her schedule shows that she has more classes.
Time ticks by, and the sounds of heels clacking on the floor drag my eyes up and down the hall. It’s the same flaming red dress that I saw earlier. I subtly glance down on my watch and see that I have wasted five hours standing here.
Good thing my temper is under-wraps; I could have done so many things within those hours.
“You!” The girl I remember as Moira points at me, stomping over to me with her heels.
“How dare you leave me like that!” She fumes, stopping in front of me.
“You could have told me that you were interested in Becca. It would have saved me this effort to look pretty!” She huffs, glaring at me with her red lips coiling behind her white teeth.
I don’t know this girl, and I have never spoken to her at all. Whatever gave her the impression that I wanted her to come up to me.
“Becca is not going to be back until later. You might want to come in before my dorm sisters call the cops on you for being a creep.”
She opens the door and waves me in. I scan the area and everyone is off to do their own things. It is better than standing in the hall and risk someone calling for security because I won't leave and they might think I’m planning something.
I follow her inside and stop when she points over her shoulder, “Shoes off.”
I was about to tell her to fuck off when she tells me that Rebecca doesn’t like shoes near where they sleep. It’s a clean sanctuary that she wants to keep clean.
Damn it, that woman is doing things to me.
I take off my shoes and follow her inside. It has a faint smell of different types of perfume. It’s expected from young girls that their rooms are decorated in fairy lights and a poster of a shirtless man over the bed that the girl is sitting on.
“It’s a shame to your face that your permanent frown is there,” she comments, setting her purse on the bed.
I stand close to Rebecca’s bed and give her a glare. She takes no offense to it and cocks a grin.
“You’re not a pervert, are you? I know Becca is old enough to drink, but she is way too young for you. Unless you’re her dad or uncle, then I’m sorry.”
I breathe deeply, willing this Moira girl to shut up.
“I have business with her.” I leave it at that and right on time, the door opens with Rebecca’s voice calling for her roommate.
“I saw the head of the finance, and I thought he was that guy again. I ran away and took the long way to class—”
Her red hair comes to view, her brown eyes taking me in, and she drops her jaw. She turns her eyes to the other girl and gives her a silent question as to what the hell I’m doing here.
“He was waiting for you,” the Moira girl shrugs, crossing her legs and supporting her chin on her elbow.
“And you let him in,” Rebecca deadpans.
“I couldn’t let him stand there. He looked like he needed help,” Moira says, more cheerfully this time, and she lets her eyes wander back to me again. “And, he’s hot.”
“He probably eats children,” I say disapprovingly, making my lips curl in exacerbation.
“He most certainly not,” Moira counters back, “Do you see him? I had to invite him in and let my eyes feast on his sexiness before he leaves.”
“Please cease your existence.” Rebecca shudders.
I make my move then, closing the distance between us, and her instinct gets her a step back from my advancing body. She’s not fast enough to put space between us. As I grip the back of her neck, her hair gets trapped in my grip as it forces her to crank her neck up.
“Oh, that’s hot,” the friend comments with a spectator tone.
“You owe me,” I start, leaning down to her until our lips are an inch away from touching. “I want my money back; you borrowed money from me, and I expect it to be returned with interest.”
Her eyes furrowed with confusion, “Already? School has not ended yet. I thought payment starts six months after graduation.”
“I can arrange something else if you don’t have the money,” I suggest, ignoring the interested eyes of her roommate.
She swallows, whispering lightly. Her eyes are cautious and a hint of fear is swirling in them, “Is it bad?”
“Yes, but you don’t have a choice. I’m not this lenient to those that have borrowed from me. Consider yourself special, but for now, this will do.”
I slant my lips over hers, muffling her squeak of surprise. My hearing picks up the gasp of the other girl while I hold Rebecca’s waist to my body, folding her into my arms while letting her tits press tightly on my chest.
Her puny strength is no match for me as she tries to break away from me. I kiss her harder. Her addicting taste is sweet and intoxicating. I lose myself in her scent and purr deeply in my throat as she practically melts against me. She mewls softly, and her fingers tremble on my biceps.
I break the kiss and swipe my tongue over her swollen bottom lip.
“You will repay me through whatever means I see fit.”
She stammers and hiccups, jolting her tits as I force to keep her eyes on mine before I do something that won’t be on my agenda today. Her big eyes are wide and not blinking when I cup her cheek, gripping her jaw just shy of painful as her eyes gaze into my grey ones.
“My kidneys aren’t the healthiest,” she laughs nervously, jerking out of my hold.
I let her take a couple of steps back. She nervously licks her lips before she realizes that she has my taste on her lips; her cheeks flush. Her tongue slithers back into her mouth, and she chews on her bottom lip. I step forward but keep my distance as I don’t want her to skitter off somewhere again.
“I’m not going
to traffic you, you’re mine. No one will touch you, and don’t you dare run away from me again.”
She frowns. Her lip juts into a pout as she scrunches up her nose. “I don’t think I can help it. You look like you want to stomp me to death or stare until you bore a hole through my head.”
I don’t blame her for thinking that. I know for a fact that I can just look at one person and make them return my money with their additional interest.
The business of a loan shark relies on reputation.
“I mean, you shouldn’t be so angry all the time. It’s not good for your health. Old people have trouble breathing.”
This little brat.
Chapter Three
Rebecca
Sleep eludes me that night, and I end up having red-rimmed eyes and the energy level equivalent to jetlag. Somewhere along the lines of counting sheep and contemplating on knocking myself over the head, the sun is already rising.
By some miracle, one minute I was trying to sleep, and the next had me dead to the world. I did manage to get some hours of sleep before the birds chirp their tune outside the window, but I could usually sleep through that.
I can also ignore the snoring from Moira and the muffled voices of rowdy students who probably got the worst hangover. They always say that after every night of heavy drinking, students rarely take Friday classes unless they have to. No one is willing to stay in a lecture hall and hear a professor talk when they can be at the beach, getting tanned under sunlight.
What I can't ignore is the shrill ringtone that is not my alarm. It’s a phone call that my fogged brain finally understood, and I mentally curse whoever is calling me at this ungodly hour on a Friday morning.
“Hello?” I groggily groan, keeping my eyes closed and drifting on the border of sleep and awareness.
“Did you eat?” A man’s deep voice asks.
It’s the voice that I can never forget, especially since yesterday’s event is still fresh in my head.