Loser: A Dark College Bully Romance (Hillcrest University Book 1)

by Candace Wondrak

  When he stopped touching me, when I no longer felt his breath on my skin, I opened my eyes and saw that he moved to his desk. Besides the chains, the room was remarkably clean, not a single thing out of place. Nothing hanging on the walls, nothing that said I have a personality, really! He was a neat little sociopath, apparently.

  Travis pulled out a tablet, and his fingers typed in his password.

  I watched him in silence for a while, but I eventually asked, “You were following me, weren’t you?”

  His blue eyes flicked to me. “I was.”

  “How did you know I was at the library?” It wasn’t like I made any statuses about it. For him to know I was at the library this morning, it was more than sheer luck. It was a master level of stalking.

  “I tracked your phone” was his answer, as if it was simple.

  “How? I never gave you my number.”

  The look Travis gave me right then told me it all. “I have a lot of connections, thanks to my family.”

  Of course. The money. My gaze fell to the floor, and I stared at my own shoes for a while. Being locked up here, I still wasn’t sure how it was supposed to make me fall for Travis and Travis alone, but it was what it was. I was here, and I couldn’t see any way out of this.

  I had no idea how much time passed, but it felt like years. Hours, at the very least. Being stuck on the floor, near motionless, sucked ass. Travis looked at me every now and then, but besides that, he was mostly quiet.

  This was…this was fucking torture. Honestly, I’d take violence over this.

  “I have to pee,” I declared, almost proudly. Like an ah-ha moment—I have to pee, so what are you going to do about it? Just let me pee on the carpet? Ew.

  “You better hold it, then.” He was firm in his answer, and I wanted to smack myself against the wall. I didn’t have to pee that badly, but it’d come eventually. A body could only hold it in for so long.

  I looked at him, hating that I thought his side profile was just as attractive as the rest of him. He had a great nose. Beautiful eyes, too. “How long are you going to keep me here?”

  Travis set his tablet down, turning to look at me. “However long it takes.”

  Okay. Way to give me the most roundabout answer, buddy. “What do I have to do to show you that I don’t care about Sawyer? Tell me what I have to do, Travis. What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to be mine,” Travis answered, as if it was a simple command, something I could easily do. “I want you to want me more than anyone else.” Just when I was about to tell him that I already liked him a hell of a lot more than I should, my manacles aside, he set a hand on his stomach. “I’m hungry. Do you want anything from the union? Pizza, Chinese—I could get us both Italian subs?”

  I held back a laugh. The way he spoke, as if all of this was normal. To him it probably was. To me? To me it was…there were no words for it, none I could think of right now.

  “Pizza,” I said after thinking it over, and I watched him nod and go, after grabbing his keys and my phone, shoving the latter in his pocket.

  Travis paused before the door, throwing a look over his shoulder. The expression he wore was one of urgent want, lust, and desperate hope. He really wanted me to be his and only his, didn’t he? And then he was gone.

  I waited, making not a peep as I stared at the door. I didn’t move, hardly breathed. This could be some kind of trap, a ploy to see if I’d try to escape—but what if it wasn’t? What if he really was going to get pizza, and this was my only chance to get the hell out of here? Could I take that chance? What if I walked out of here and Travis was waiting for me?

  Fuck. I didn’t know what to do.

  Minutes ticked by, and eventually my eyes moved away from the door, landing on my backpack on his desk. His desk was seven feet away, my backpack and the key just out of reach. I tried stretching a leg over, seeking to kick my backpack off the desk and have it fall, thereby taking the key with it, but with my wrists chained to the furthermost bedpost, I was restricted in my movements. If one arm was free, I might be able to reach it…

  Why would he leave the key here and take my phone? Was it some kind of psycho trust exercise? If it was, I was about to fail it, but I didn’t care. I knew enough about people like Travis to know they changed their minds fast, with little remorse for what they did. I wasn’t about to sit around and wait for him to strangle me with these chains.

  I had to get that fucking key. It was a good thing I sent him for pizza. Those guys working the pizza place were always slow. If he really went there…I had some time.

  My chin turned downward, and I stared at the two cuffs around my wrist. Each one had been locked individually. If I got out my right hand, maybe I could extend my other arm enough to reach the backpack and the key.

  Maybe.

  It was my only plan, so I had to try it. If I ended up coming across Travis in the hall, I’d deal with that then. Right now my main goal was freeing myself.

  Was it bad that this wasn’t the worst situation I’d been in? Was it wrong that I knew precisely what to do here? Probably, but all that shit was in the past, and I’d rather not relive it…or anything to do with him. I wouldn’t even think of his name.

  I brought my hands to my chest, closing my eyes as I gripped the thumb on my right hand. I exhaled slowly, my breathing coming out evenly. Some would think it was remarkable that I was so cool under pressure, but what those people didn’t know was that I had practice.

  Dislodging my thumb? Never done it before, but there was a first time for everything, wasn’t there?

  I jerked my left hand, taking my right thumb with it. A sickening crack reverberated through the air, and my adrenaline pumped too much, too fast to let me feel the pain. The pain would come later. I opened my eyes, keeping them fixed to the ceiling as I started to pull my right hand out of the cuff.

  It wasn’t a simple set of handcuffs. It was something made for keeping a person chained up, something you couldn’t just stroll into Home Depot and buy. Chains like this…I didn’t know where you could get them.

  Even with my thumb dislocated, it took quite a bit of effort to pull my hand through. The metal dug into my skin, threatening to crack other bones in my knuckles and shave off the top layer of flesh, but once I put my feet around the metal, using my leg strength to keep it still as I pulled my torso backward, I was able to slide my hand out.

  I would not look at my hand, I would not look at my hand, I would not…

  I looked at my hand.

  My thumb hung there, useless, and the skin on the back of my hand where the chains had dug into burned a bright, flaring red. The pain was definitely there, fighting my adrenaline, threatening to take over. Couldn’t stop now, though. Had to keep going.

  I went as far as the chain would allow, my left arm completely outstretched as I lifted my leg towards the desk. The tip of my foot brushed against my backpack. I wasn’t far enough. I needed more, so I pulled harder. My left shoulder seared in pain, and I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out. I got another inch, and that was all I needed.

  The tip of my shoe hooked in the handle on top of the bag, and I jerked my leg back, bringing the bag off the desk and onto the carpeted floor. My books made a big thud, and the key rolled off. My free hand couldn’t reach it, so once again I had to use my foot to drag the key closer. Once I was able to grab it, I snatched it up with my working fingers and fumbled as I went to unlatch my other hand.

  I should do something about my dislocated thumb, but now wasn’t the time. Plus, I knew how to get it out, but not back in properly.

  The key slid into its respective hole, and I turned it, unlocking the other manacle around my left wrist. I got to my feet, tossed the key onto his bed, and grabbed my backpack. He still had my phone, but that was it. He didn’t take my keys. I could run back to the dorm room and…and what? Tell Declan what happened? Would he believe me?

  Didn’t matter. I’d worry about that when I was actually there. />
  I was about to leave, but something stopped me. A nagging feeling, a suspicion, something in my gut that told me there was more to this, more to Travis. You didn’t wake up one morning and decide to kidnap someone. There had to be more to this clean room than met the eye.

  I went to his dresser, opening every drawer and going through them as quickly as I could, cradling my right hand to my chest. Oh yeah, it was starting to hurt like a bitch now. My head hurt, too. Drawer after drawer, I found nothing but clothes…and some interesting sex toys, but mostly clothes.

  I turned to his desk, going through that next. I thought about taking the tablet, but if he could track my phone, he could track that, too. Nope. Next were the drawers on the desk, which held nothing but notebooks and extra pens. All in all, my searching only took a few moments. Hmm. Maybe I—

  Just when I started to think this was a waste of time and I should go, I took a peek in the bottom drawer, finding one thing in the deep space. A single, tiny thing that was so out of place, I instantly knew it was wrong. I also knew from the bright pink hue of its leather, it wasn’t Travis’s.

  Some kind of journal.

  I wanted to throw up, both from the pain and because I had the feeling I knew who this journal belonged to. I bent to pick it up and rushed to the door, holding the pink journal near my armpit. After shoving my head out and glancing both ways down the hall, I took off, practically sprinting.

  No elevator. Might run into him there. Stairs it was.

  I found the stairs at the other end of the building, hurrying down them, practically tripping over my feet as I went. Over and over, down more steps and stairs until my heart threatened to burst. The stairwell led directly outside, and when I emerged into the fresh air, I found it was getting dark out. I threw a nervous glance around me before starting to power walk my ass away from there.

  It was difficult to juggle trying to open the journal and watching where I was walking. Campus was mostly empty, the sidewalks clear. I took the long way around, not going towards the student union to avoid seeing Travis. The streetlights were already on, the moon beginning its ascent in the sky, and I finally managed to flip open the front binding of the journal.

  Property of sat there in big, bold letters, but it was the name right after it that made me swallow bile.

  Property of Sabrina Salvatore.

  Chapter Twenty-Four – Sawyer

  This was so not working, and I fucking hated it. I hated it more than anything in the world right now. There was nothing physically wrong with the girl under me. She was simple, but pretty. Her eyes were a warm amber color, and her nails were the perfect length as she dragged them down my back while I fucked her.

  But…no. It just wasn’t working.

  I was hard, but I couldn’t come. Anytime I got close, I’d glance down at the girl’s face, and then my mind would start to wonder: what the fuck was I doing? What was I doing here? Was this really my life?

  It took a lot of effort from me to pull out of her, holding in a groan as I sat on the end of the bed. My back was covered in sweat, and my skin felt hot. I slowly peeled off the condom as I threw a look over my shoulder at the girl on the bed.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, but I knew she didn’t really care. None of them cared about me. They liked the money, and they liked the dick. Not me. No one ever really liked me.

  “Get out,” I muttered, flinging the condom to the floor. I’d pick it up later, when I didn’t feel so shitty.

  “What?”

  “Get out of my fucking house before I call the police and they drag you out,” I growled, my hands clenching into fists. I ignored the swear words she threw at me, the way she glared at me as she gathered her clothes, hurriedly throwing them on before leaving.

  This never happened to me. It didn’t. This was a first, and I fucking hated it.

  I got up after a while, heading into the bathroom to shower, to rinse off every last trace of that girl. What was her name? Penny? Kate? I had no idea, and I didn’t care. I never wanted to see her again anyway. I never wanted to see any of them again after I was done with them.

  As the water pelted my head and my back, I closed my eyes, thinking back to the one girl I shouldn’t. Fucking Ash. Fucking. Ash. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about her? It wasn’t like I was in love with her; I wasn’t capable of love. I was hollow inside, just as I’d been ever since Sabrina died.

  I didn’t love Ash. I didn’t.

  So why the fuck couldn’t I get her out of my head? During our date, I thought I had her wrapped around my finger. At certain times, at least. But the truth was the opposite: she had me around her finger. It wasn’t something I was proud of, and I hated her for it. I hated Ash so much.

  My mind went back to what happened at the zoo. How her hand felt, so soft and smooth, against my dick. My cock throbbed with the memory, and I let out an annoyed groan, knowing I had to take care of my erection somehow. It was best with a pussy, but sometimes a hand had to do.

  I gripped the base of my cock hard, closing my eyes. My mind replayed the way she’d touched me, my hand mimicking the speed she’d used. How she watched me all the while, slowly chewing on a fry. How confident she was, how she smiled at me. The memory was burned into my head, and I used it to help my current hard-on.

  My fist pumped along my length, my balls tightening. My hips started to buck, and for a moment, I imagined what it would be like to have Ash under me. To feel her wet pussy around my cock, her body rocking along with mine, pink hair splayed around her head like a halo on my pillow.

  Thinking of her was all I needed to do, for my inner core exploded in a tidal wave of pleasure, my body heaving forward as I came. I had to catch myself with my free hand, use it to keep me up as my other hand jerked along my tip. White, hot cum shot out of me, landing on the tile in front of me. My knees felt weak, but I didn’t let myself fall.

  Once the orgasm was over and my body didn’t feel so tingly, my hands curled into fists. Why the fuck was it so easy to come while thinking about her? I couldn’t come when I had a woman’s inner walls around my dick, but I could come when I imagined doing unspeakable things to Ash. I hated it so much.

  I cleaned up and turned the water off, running a towel over my head as I headed downstairs. I didn’t care if someone peered through the windows and saw me naked. This was my fucking house for as long as I had the lease, so I’d walk around naked in it until then.

  I dropped the towel on one of the chairs near the dining table, heading into the kitchen to grab something to eat. Didn’t have much, so I settled for a bottle of water. I’d just order something; I’d have to put on clothes, but for food it was worth it. I had half the water bottle gone, about to head back up the stairs to find clothes, but as I rounded the bottom of the stairwell, I froze.

  An envelope sat on the ground, pushed in through the mail slot in the door.

  Weird, because I already got the mail…

  I picked it up, flipping it over to see the front. There was…no address written on it, no return label. Not even a stamp. Just an envelope, plain and white. My eyebrows came together, and I slowly returned to the kitchen, setting my water bottle down on the counter as I ran a thumb through the envelope’s top.

  A single sheet of paper was inside it, just a folded-up piece of paper. I unfolded it, finding that it was a typed-up letter. Right. Because if it’d been handwritten, it would’ve been creepier. My eyes scanned the single line on the top of the page, something peculiar settling in the pit of my stomach.

  Anxiety? Nerves? Was I…was I worried?

  I read it once, twice, three times—each time I read it, I grew more confused, that strange feeling in my gut only growing. Two teeny, tiny sentences. Just six words, and yet I felt them deep within me. I had no idea who left this, who came to my house and pushed it through the mail slot, and it didn’t matter, because I wasn’t going to listen to it.

  I threw the note down, scowling as I headed up the stairs. Throwing on some clot
hes, I tried my best to ignore the feeling that something wasn’t right here, that there was more to this than I knew. Those six words echoed in my head, over and over again, the only thing I could think about, a threat, and though it didn’t mention any names, I knew exactly who the letter was referencing.

  Ash.

  Stay away from her. She’s mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Five – Travis

  Just when I thought Ash couldn’t surprise me anymore, she went ahead and surprised me. To remain so calm, so collected, it was almost shocking, but I wasn’t one to be shocked. I didn’t expect her to be so…serious about it all, but honestly it’s what drew me to her to begin with. Her different-ness.

  Because she was different. She was different than anyone else at Hillcrest. She didn’t belong with Sawyer, and she definitely didn’t belong with Declan. Out of everyone here, she belonged with me and only me.

  To get her, to keep her, to mark her as mine—I would do anything. Sabotage friendships, do some illegal stuff. Really, the list could go on and on.

  I got the pizza from the union, and as I walked back, taking a leisurely pace, I turned my head up to the night sky. It was a beautiful, clear night, and I planned on keeping Ash with me for at least another twenty-four hours. I’d let her use the restroom, provided she didn’t try to run. I could be a gentle master too. It wasn’t always about the chains and the whips with me.

  I gave a smile at the student manning the front desk of my dorm building, heading straight to the elevators. I had to get on with another pair of students. A guy and a girl, and they were all over each other. It was impossible not to notice the erection pressing against the man’s jeans. They got off on the third floor, giggling as they went. It was more than obvious why they chose to remain on campus during the long weekend.