Guilty Secrets (Campus Love and Murder Sorority Eyes Romance Book 1)

by Christie, Ciara

  "You squawk like a witches' coven on a Saturday night of brewing frogs legs and puppy dog tails," he said and handed me Ben’s picture. The second most perfect smile of the day aimed directly at me.

  "Lucky guy."

  I should have realized he was only mocking me like the rest, but I flushed hot with the shock of my desire for him. I hated that he seemed to indulge in the reaction he'd forced me to experience. I packed up my exploded suitcase to the soundtrack of the coven's mocking laughter.

  "I'm Brad."

  Finally, someone had acknowledged me in anything resembling humanity.

  Could two simple words ooze more perfection when joined at the hip? I tried not to drool as those same two words oozed from his perfect butterfly wing lips on a voice of melted chocolate lazily drifting through me. If I died and went to heaven at that precise moment, I'd insist on an angel chorus of, "I'm Brad."

  His second best smile and ice blue eyes forced me to look away, but he seemed to have other plans. The torture of the day was far from over.

  "Robyn," I mumbled into my sneakers. "Robyn. Er... White. Rob to my friends."

  He grabbed the three heaviest of my four cases. "Lead the way, Rob."

  "I'm not sure where."

  "First day?"

  "That obvious?"

  Again the smile, but with a slightly crooked curl of empathy.

  I'd follow to the end of the world. Tripping over my tongue along the way. Just so long as he poured that melted chocolate river that was his voice over my cookie crumble heart.

  He thumbed the screen of his cell phone and entered my name in an app.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I'm a volunteer mentor for Fresher Week. This app allows me to guide any lost student."

  "You do this for any student?"

  "You're my twentieth."

  "This week?"

  "This morning."

  I tried to hide the disappointment in my voice. "I see."

  According to the campus map app, my new home was the six floor red brick behind a courtyard.

  "Room seventeen."

  I trailed after Brad, feeling a little less special, but nonetheless grateful.

  Awaiting us on the ground floor lobby at the bottom of the staircase was a torrent of water cascading around my sneakers. Brad turned to me. "Did you start this one too?"

  I scowled and shook my head as guiltily as possible. "No, but I guess I'll get the citation anyway."

  He laughed. "Once is bad luck. Twice is the universe conspiring against you. Nobody knows you enough to hate you, yet. So relax."

  As we waded up the staircase Brad said, "I wouldn't want to be the loser who gets billed for this one."

  Brad hauled the cases up onto his shoulders and skipped two steps at a time. After four floors he was still going strong, while my heart was fit to burst. I dragged my one battered case up through the river cascading down at me. Trying to keep up with Brad, just so I could steal a succession of glimpses at a perfectly formed ass through jeans that seemed to be spray painted onto his tight and presumably sculptured cheeks.

  Pushing through an angry crowd of my new neighbors, I found Brad on the fifth floor, sat idly on my cases outside the door to the room which was clearly the source of the flood. The door was number seventeen.

  Avoiding my gaze, he whispered, "I guess the universe does have it in for you, after all."

  He opened the door to number seventeen and hurled my cases inside. They splashed with more dignity than I could muster and received a sarcastic round of applause from my new neighbors. A light flickered on and off from inside my new home like a B-movie horror flick. The cases floated about on the carpet looking as aimless and confused as I was feeling.

  Here was my one chance to salvage something from the day. I wiped my wet hair out of my eyes and turned to him with all the flirtatious gratitude a horny and lonely girl could muster.

  He stood there, oozing magnetic attraction with the silent dignity of an almost scolding expression. My knees began to shake and my stomach back flipped on the wings of a wondrously teasing flock of butterflies. I fluttered my eyes imperceptibly with a view to catching the meager flickering light and showing off my eyes at their seductive best.

  That's the moment he crushed me.

  "No girlfriend of mine could ever get caught up in such a pathetic situation."

  With that, he turned without a glimmer of sardonic wit on his stony face and vanished into the crowd. Reeling from the shock I staggered backwards into a tiny two room apartment. I slammed the door on the noisy crowd shouting at me and demanding an explanation for the flood I had apparently biblically brought down on them.

  Who was I kidding? First Officer Hotness and then Brad? Like tantalizing ghosts, teasing my imagination with sensual promises of love, they had vanished. Deep down I knew both were illusions.

  I acknowledged the secret truth hiding inside of me. Even if at that moment both Officer Hotness and Brad broke down my door and begged me on a date, I could never be with either of them. The truth was, I had a secret.

  A deadly secret that forced me to set aside all prospects of love. No matter how much the loneliness hurt. Robyn White was not my real name.

  For their sakes and mine, those two delicious men could never know who I really was.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I sat on my four cases. A tiny island in the center of an Olympic size pool of self-pity, fighting pathetic tears when a knock at the door promised the end of my mortification.

  I cautiously opened the door expecting the janitor, but no. A dazzling and beautifully exotic young woman pointed a camera lens at me and snapped away.

  Time to put on the boxing gloves.

  "Look, it's my first day. I don't know why everything is going wrong. I just want to be left alone. Is that so hard for you people to understand?"

  "Mai Ling."

  "Excuse me?"

  She looked me up and down like she was inspecting me for smuggling narcotics on my person into the island nation of Loser-ville. She pushed into my apartment like she owned the building and pointed at my suitcases.

  "New girl, got an inflatable lifeboat inside one of those?"

  "Sure, want to take turns blowing it up?"

  She turned to me and laughed. "You'll do. What's your name?"

  "Robyn White."

  "Major?"

  "Journalism."

  "You?"

  "Fashion."

  "Look, I appreciate the welcome, but I've got more pressing matters to attend to."

  "Professor?"

  "Huh? Professor Davina Cole."

  "Watch out for her."

  I swear she checked out my ass.

  "Unless of course she's your type, Robyn. Not that I'm suggesting you didn't earn your place on merit."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Takes a lot to get on Queen Skype's good side. I guess you know that already. Just don't get on her wrong side or dream city quest turns into the scrapheap challenge."

  My head began to ache. I pointed to the door. "Satisfied?"

  "It takes a lot to satisfy me." She licked her lips. "Yes, you'll do."

  She took a few pictures of the flood and then grabbed my hand. She dragged me up to the top floor and in through an open door into the biggest and most luxurious apartment I have ever seen.

  "Who lives here?"

  "You do," Mai Ling said.

  It was about then that I realized I must have hit my head and was at that moment dreaming as I floated face-down in the flood.

  Mai smiled patiently then added. "If you want to, of course, no pressure. I mean, it would be nice to have a room-mate. Mine bailed and it's too big for one."

  Too big for one? It was too big for a small army. It didn't just dwarf your average long haul flight aircraft-hanger, it could give the Taj Mahal a run for its money in the size and opulence game.

  Walls lined with expensively produced framed photos of fantastically toned young men and women in ero
tic and passionate embraces seemed to disappear out of sight down the long winding corridor with a dozen rooms leading off it. Everywhere the fragrance of lilies of every variety in simple, elegant white vases in rows alongside the pristine white walls.

  Mai smiled. "My own work."

  There were no wall heaters, but the place seemed the perfect temperature. Cozy, but not stifling. I could curl up on the floor, knowing it was cleaner than the inside of my last refrigerator.

  Standing in the center of the marble floor living room that seemed to stretch in both directions with high floor to ceiling windows for a mile or two, and for the duration of a blissful five seconds I dared to imagine life there. Waking to the view of the vast lake and the tiny island in its center.

  Mai explained Kimberley Island marked the boundary between the land leased by the college and that used by the owner of all the land around here as far as the eye could see. I knew I needed to venture onto that island someday soon. Mai advised me that Kimberley Island was apparently considered out of bounds and the owner's privacy was fiercely protected.

  His land as far as I could see was about three miles in every direction. It was a blissful, peaceful scene that I felt could soothe the nightmare journey I was about to embark on.

  I sighed and knew it was not to be. Reluctantly, I pinched myself back to reality.

  "I could never afford this. Not even a single square foot of rental."

  "Who said anything about rent?"

  I slowly shook my head with confusion.

  "Look, Robyn, it's like this. My father gave it to me for my twenty first. Rich bastard trying to buy his neglected daughter's love and ease his guilt over dumping my mother for a bitch not much older than me."

  "Did it work?"

  "I'll let you know when I've got the rest of his fortune."

  Aware my bottom lip was doing an impression of a yo-yo, I realized I hadn't breathed since I arrived. My head began to swim.

  Mai grabbed my shoulders and guided me to the biggest sofa I'd ever seen. I sank into it like I was sinking into a cloud.

  "Fresher Week can be rough, right?"

  I nodded.

  She made tea. Nothing like I'd ever tasted before. Sour, but refreshing. We sipped.

  "Color's coming back to your cheeks. Fancy the guided tour?"

  I shrugged. Not wanting to seem ungrateful and knowing I'd never again get a chance to witness such opulence, I nodded.

  "Great."

  Mai dragged me down the corridor into the first bedroom. Oak parquet flooring so exquisite I could eat off it. Enormous windows with a view of the tree lined campus and Lake Kimberley to die for. A four-poster bed so deliciously comfortable with the softest white cotton sheets and a mountain of pillows where I could spend all day wallowing blissfully in self-pity.

  "So what do you think, Robyn?"

  I bit my lip. I was going to really regret this. "I really couldn't."

  "If it makes you feel better, we can work out terms."

  "Such as?"

  "Can you cook?"

  "Sure, can't everyone?"

  Her cheeks flushed. She waved intricately painted red dragon fingernails almost three inches long at me. "With these?"

  "Tricky."

  "Here's the deal. You cook for us one evening a week and maybe model once in a while."

  I flush hot. "Model? Me? Nobody wants pictures of me."

  "But you are so hot." She held up her camera and shook it. "Damn look, you melted the lens already."

  We both laughed.

  "So unless you prefer to swim to your bed we have a deal?"

  Mai held out her hand.

  I took in the awe inspiring view over the campus. Trees in myriad of Fall gold and burnt red surrounding air brushed clean brown stones and red brick low rises. Odd looking gargoyle-like statues in funny masks playfully peering at me from their rooftop hideaways. If I'd died and gone to heaven then at that precise moment a God ray would illuminate my plight. On cue the sun broke on through the clouds and lit up the apartment like the place was an angel's penthouse suite.

  Every cloud had a silver lining, right? And all of course too good to be true.

  I shook Mai's soft hand.

  "Deal."

  When we returned to the living room, I found my suitcases neatly piled up in one corner. But no one else was around.

  "Who brought them up?"

  Mai smiled. "Things have a habit of just appearing around here."

  Together we dragged my cases to my new bedroom.

  Mai left me to unpack.

  A lot of my stuff was ruined by the flood water. The stains on my one decent dress would never come out. The only thing of value that survived was my tablet and laptop and only because both were by design, waterproof.

  Amongst my socks, I found the leather bound journal wrapped in a plastic sandwich bag. It seemed to have survived the ravages of the flood water. Hand stitched letters on the cover spelled the name: Madison Loxley.

  I opened the journal and read the first hand written page.

  Dear Robyn,

  If you are reading this, it means I am dead.

  The clues as to how and why are within. All I can tell you for sure is I am so very close to cracking the biggest Campus scandal in the history of American universities. Clearly, if you are reading this, I failed.

  Read with care. And promise me one thing. Your life depends upon it. If you decide to do anything about this, trust no one. If you are the person I think you are and you follow my footsteps through these pages, tread lightly, fear for your soul and try to forgive me.

  Not least, for abandoning you.

  The following pages are my honest account of my first year at Kimberley. The year I was murdered.

  Many pages will be missing. They are secrets hidden away for my safety. It is up to you to find them.

  One last thing for you to remember before you embark on my odyssey. Go into the darkness guided by the light of your heart.

  Your loving sister,

  Madison.

  P.s.

  Your first task is to find the symbol I hid on the Kimberely Times network. It is the key to everything that will lead you down the same path I followed.

  I flipped the next page and stopped at the first heading.

  Semester 1. Week 1.

  I couldn't believe how sweet and pure the human spirit could possibly be until my first day at Kimberley when I met Mai Ling. I was lonely, isolated and she took me under her wing, and into her luxurious nest like the mother I never had.

  It wasn't until later, when it was too late, I realized I had entered a viper's nest. I now know that sacrifices, compromises and dark secrets can dwell, hidden beneath the perfect facade of even the purest amongst us. And how deadly can the heart's desires be.

  H.G. is shaping up to be the one true person I can rely on. And yet I sense he will betray me like all the others.

  There were large sections of pages missing. Someone, presumably Madison, had for some unknown reason torn out vital pages that would reveal the entire mystery surrounding Madison's death. Whoever was in possession of those missing pieces might also know I had the remaining journal. But did this other person or persons have all the missing pieces in their possession? And if not, how much did they know?

  If they knew I had the remaining journal, would they reveal themselves? And if so, would they come to me as a friend or enemy?

  My only clues were a list of initials: H.G, C.W, V.W, M.X, B.D, K.K, R.E, and D.C.

  And then an underlined and questioned reference that made no sense:

  The Red Queen?

  The White King?

  I assumed they were people who somehow played a crucial role in Madison's death. Who exactly these people were, I could only guess based on Madison's routine and who she was therefore most likely to interact with. I would have to identify these people.

  After the death of our parents when we were very much younger, Madison was everything to me. I would fi
nd answers. Discover the truth.

  I had to gain the trust of these people. Ingratiate myself with them to learn their secrets.

  Whatever the cost to me personally, vengeance would be mine.

  I retrieved another pair of socks from my case. Inside another plastic sandwich bag was a Glock 19 hand gun. I removed the gun from the bag, checked the safety was on and slid it under my pillow.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Ten minutes and one quick change of squelchy wet socks and shoes later, I bolted across Campus Square, already an hour late for the paid internship interview that will mark the ascent of my auspicious new career. At least that's what I told Mai. There was more to it. Something I needed to find. A secret I needed to undercover.

  I found the campus newspaper, Kimberley Times, on the fourth floor of an airbrushed brown stone on the corner of Campus Square.

  If I didn't get the paid internship, with desperate emphasis on the paid part then I'd be buried under the inevitable avalanche of car repair bills and citations for whatever I inflicted on my first morning. I checked my appearance in the lobby windows.

  "Girl next door or girl next Pulitzer?" I shrugged. "Kick ass."

  Best foot forward I pushed on into the intimidating antique revolving doors and immediately collided with a girl my age. She was fleeing the building as she wiped her streaming face with what looked like a coffee stained resume.

  She grabbed my arm and held me firm with her haunted expression. "My father's going to kill me."

  With that she ran off across the square. Her sobs echoed like a fading nightmare as the brass revolving doors smacked me full in the ass and I fell into the office, landing on my knees. Nice first impression, but par for the course I'm sure.

  Supporting the brass reception desk, intricately carved with ghoulish masks hung from the legs like gargoyles daring me to turn and run after that girl back to Loser-ville. Behind it, a slender brunette yawned at me. She peered over her horn rim spectacles as if sizing me up for my coffin and indicated a glass wall room at the end of the office. She held out a hand.

  "Penny Pine, welcome to the slaughter house. If you survive five minutes with J.C, it'll be a record semester."