by Amy Love
“Why the fuck do you guys think he’s at the university anyway?” he asked, easing the car to a stop at the light.
A cluster of slim, perky college girls paraded across the crosswalk, clearly loving their life of limited responsibilities and binge drinking at four in the afternoon. The bars around campus catered to the large student population at all hours of the day, and it wasn’t uncommon to see a blitzed group from Blackwoods University, stumbling here and there…even when the sun was up. At least these girls had most of their faculties together, even in heels.
“Inside source did some digging,” Mick told him. “All you gotta do is connect the dots, Gryff. Find this guy and put a stop to this shit before we lose all our fucking cartel runners.”
Gryff gritted his teeth, as he recalled the eight fallen brothers who’d died in the last few months, all of them because someone was leaking their supply runs and deal locations to someone else—and that person was wiping the Steel Phoenixes out. They’d been a proud and long-standing MC for as long as Gryff could remember, but someone was killing their guys and taking their coke—and it was about fucking time to put an end to it.
“No promises I won’t crack this guy’s skull the second I find out who he is,” he growled, stepping a little too hard on the gas when the light turned. His massive foot quickly slammed on the brake before he rear-ended the beat-up Honda Civic in front of him.
“Hey”—Mick’s voice crackled through the car’s speakers—“as long as he’s kind of functional, that’s all that matters. We want a confession at least before we put a bullet in his head.”
He shrugged. “Fair enough.”
Gryff figured that whoever it was could still confess with all his teeth knocked out, right? Well, more like pulled out. One for every guy Gryff had lost since that snitch started leaking secrets and ruining lives.
The north end of the town of Blackwoods housed the university, an institution known for its law and medical programs. Kids flocked from all over the country to study there, flooding the usually quiet town with an influx of people every fall. Gryff didn’t mind. While college brats were annoying, Mick was right…sometimes they were their best customers, buying in bulk and distributing it to their friends, helping them “de-stress.” Whatever. Different strokes for different folks. Even though he’d been a chain smoker since he was twenty, Gryff wouldn’t touch any of the harder stuff they dealt. Even alcohol was a hit or miss kind of thing, and he only partook in drunken shenanigans if all his boys partook, too.
Most of the time, he liked keeping all his faculties in check. He wanted to be confident in his abilities—in control of all aspects of his life.
It annoyed the shit out of him that, as he drew nearer to Blackwoods University, he lacked control. Some guy was out there getting the better of him and his fellow Phoenixes, and as of right now, there was nothing he could do about it.
“Look,” Mick said with a sigh, followed quickly by another short, wheezy cough. “Take the day to get used to things. Scope out the campus. Look into the administration. See if there’s a secretary you can fuck information out of.”
“Classy as always, Micky boy,” Gryff laughed, rolling his eyes again. “But I know how to do my job. I’ll get this son of a bitch. You can count on that.”
“I know, Gryff. That’s why we picked you to do it. You always deliver.”
Any other guy would have let a compliment like that go to his head, but Gryff just took it as fact. He did deliver. Always. Punctuality was big in this business, and Gryff arrived everywhere at least a half an hour to an hour early. He dressed the part, no matter the situation. He handled his business confidently and quietly, and that was how he’d ascended the ranks within the club as fast as he did. Most of his coworkers were in their forties, while Gryff was only just pushing thirty.
“Look, I can see the main gates,” he announced, as the high-reaching white walls of the university came in to view. “I’ll update you when I have something new.”
“Sounds good, man.”
Licking his lips, Gryff reached forward and tapped the little touch-screen control unit in the middle of his car’s dash, effectively disconnecting the call. No need for pleasantries amongst brothers. The nearer he got to the university, inching through midday traffic, the more his stomach turned on itself. If he could help it, Gryff avoided the north end of the city. There was more going on in the south. The nightclub was there. His people were there. When he was at the south end of the city, Gryff was either on a chair at the bar or on the cushy seat of his bike on the road. There was never a reason to head up to the university—until now.
Sprawling hedges and the last flowers of summer lined the immense wall that divided the town from the institution. Fall was well underway by now, but given the unseasonably warm weather they’d been having lately, most of the flowers had stayed in bloom. As Gryff drew nearer, even he had to acknowledge that they made the place look good, especially since they hid the fact that the institution of “higher learning” had effectively constructed their own Berlin Wall to keep themselves separate from the rest of Blackwoods.
He passed through the perpetually open main gates with a bit of a snarl. Something about this place tickled his temper. It wasn’t as if he’d never taken a swing at post-secondary education. Years ago, Gryff earned a business degree online, which was actually marginally useful during his time with the Steel Phoenixes. He just never understood the draw to attend to an actual college. Everybody was in everybody’s space all the time. Professors were assholes in person—online too, but at least Gryff couldn’t clock them in the face online. The whole atmosphere stunk of elite hyper-competitiveness, and it just wasn’t Gryff’s scene.
He didn’t need to compete with anyone. He was always the top dog in everything he did. There was no other competition.
He pulled into a parking lot, grimacing at the fee to keep his car there for the day. He planned to dominate this campus by the time the week was finished.
He was going to find the guy fucking over his Phoenixes. Break his face. Get in. Get out.
Easy.
Chapter 2
Despite his best efforts, the perp Gryff was so damned determined to find had yet to make an appearance. Hell, he didn’t even have anyone on his fucking radar yet, and he’d been scoping out Blackwoods University for two days now. Wandering the faculty buildings. Making mental notes about the office staff, the roving security officials, and the overall schedule the college had—when classes generally started and stopped, when it was busiest, and when it was quietest.
All things considered, Gryff had done exactly what he was supposed to do. It wasn’t as if he expected the guy who’d been stealing from the Steel Phoenixes and murdering his motorcycle club brothers to just fall into his lap, but after a good two days of patrolling, he thought he might have an inkling toward a lead. Thus far, the club knew their perp was someone in a position of authority, but as Gryff roamed the Blackwoods University campus, he slowly came to realize that a position of authority could literally be anyone. Head of security. Top frat brother. Richest kid in school. Professors with tenure. The dean for fuck’s sake. It could have been any of them, and as he roamed the beautiful landscape, he wished Micky had more to tell him. There was a lot of ground to cover, and so far, Gryff was basically left sitting around with his thumb up his ass.
At least he knew the campus like the back of his hand. He’d been everywhere possible, three times over, so that he could at least pretend that he knew where he was going. Unfortunately, campus security had taken note of him.
And, really, why wouldn’t they? His first day there, Gryff wandered the grounds in his leather jacket, a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, another tucked behind his ear. He’d been the dark brooding shadow amidst a sea of naïve kids wanting to make the world a better place with their college education. He’d realized his mistake when he caught one of the security personnel tailing him, so he tailored his wardrobe for the following
days so that he could blend in better.
Not that he had a lot of preppy shit in his closet, but he could get away with jeans and a white t-shirt. Remove all the black and leather and combat boots, and suddenly he wasn’t a threat anymore.
Day three was for research. Despite being a biker and a drug runner—amongst other things—Gryff knew how to hunker down and do his research. He’d graduated with an online degree and a GPA at the top end of the spectrum—a library wasn’t a foreign place to him. He’d used his morning to research the founding families of the university, to get to know the real power players and the alumni donators in intimate detail. If any had a whiff of scandal surrounding them, he fired the name to Micky, hoping that something might ring a bell in the old guy’s head. Anything to give him a lead, because right now, Gryff was groping blindly in the dark and coming up empty.
When the lunch rush moved into the library, many students using their free period to eat and do homework at the same time, the sheer volume of their conversation enough to piss him off, Gryff packed up his laptop and headed outside. On the way out of the enormous building, with its century-old oil paintings and priceless texts in glass boxes and echo-inducing tiled floors, he made eye contact with one of the campus security details. The man gave a brief smile and a nod as Gryff passed, which he returned to the best of his ability. As he strode away, he glanced over his shoulder, annoyed to find that the uniformed officer was still watching him.
Jaw clenched, he moved away from the imposing buildings—the history and social sciences buildings were dwarfed by the library, nestled on either side of it and spilling out students by the minute. While he wasn’t one for crowds, at least he could disappear from the curious eyes of campus security by going for a smoke on the perfectly manicured lawns. Benches and blankets were scattered across the green space, even down at the bottom of the gently rolling hill by a dark blue—man-made, obviously—little lake. Given that the day was warm, it didn’t even surprise him to see a pack of women sunbathing. He looked away quickly, not wanting to stare, and snatched the cigarette out from its place behind his ear, then lit up.
Just as he was setting his lighter back in his pocket, however, Gryff collided with another body—hard. It wasn’t a hit that would damage him, but when he looked down at the person he’d run into, he realized he’d probably knocked the wind out of her. She was just a wisp of a thing, slim and small, her curves hidden under a baggy sweater-dress that rode up a little around her hips, revealing a flash of thigh beneath thin tights, as she toppled to the ground. A mess of thick, blonde hair flew across her face as she went down. She landed on the ground with a soft cry, using her hands to brace herself.
“Fuck,” he muttered, tossing the cigarette and crouching down immediately. “I’m sorry.”
He wanted to tell her to watch where she was going, but since been looking down at the time, too, they were equally at fault. Sighing, the woman brushed her hair away from her face, revealing a pair of sparkling green eyes, kissable lips, and a smallish nose that some might describe as button-like.
She was absolutely striking. Stunning as fuck. Gryff licked his lips and cleared his throat, once again trying not to stare. If that security asshole was still tailing him, now there would be a reason to investigate. He needed to make this right A.S.A.P.
“It’s my fault,” she offered, her voice a melodic hymn if he’d ever heard one. “I wasn’t looking…”
Her green eyes darted to her phone, and he quickly put two and two together: she’d been texting.
“We both fucked up,” he said with a laugh, holding out a hand to help her up. “Are you okay?”
“Uh…” Her hands, small and clean, and her nails—painted with a clear polish—were scraped. While her hands weren’t bleeding, they probably stung like hell.
“Here, let me get your stuff,” he offered softly, grabbing her scattered books, as she grabbed her phone and shoved it in her purse. “Let’s get you sitting and looked at.”
Her cheeks flamed as he helped her up, a hand on her elbow. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”
Gryff shook his head, scanning the area for the security guard. Nobody in sight, but there might be guys in regular clothes wandering around, too.
“I’m a big guy,” he told her, “and we hit pretty hard. Do me a favor and let me make sure I didn’t give you a concussion?”
Her lips peeled back into a gorgeous grin, as she pushed her hair over her shoulders. So thick and wavy. It’d look good wrapped around his fist while he pounded into her from behind.
Christ.
Gryff shook his head to push the image away, then nodded to a nearby bench. She went without a fuss, almost docile and pliant under his direction—his cock twitched, interest piqued.
As she’d said, the damage wasn’t much. She’d skinned the bottom of her palms when she caught herself from falling, but everything else seemed fine.
“I’m Beth, by the way,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice as she stuffed her books into her bag. Gryff held the last one out to her, head cocked to the side. She had the looks of a model but the confidence of a mouse.
“Gryff.” His grin widened when their eyes met fleetingly, and she hastily tucked her last book into her bag. “Was that a law textbook?”
“Yeah, what else is that huge?” She gave another tinkling laugh, as a warm breeze rustled her blonde locks. For some reason, he had the urge to push a few strays away from her face, but he refrained, his hand tightening into a fist instead.
“Business texts are pretty big,” he fired back, recalling his days of purchasing enormous business tomes for his online classes. The money he spent on that shit…
“Oh, are you studying business?”
He looked back to her sharply, noting the still present flush in her cheeks and the inquisitive raise of one eyebrow. Yeah. Yeah, I’m studying business. Why else would I be on campus?
“Fourth year,” he told her with a sigh. “Crunch time. You?”
“Law, final year,” she remarked, her sigh much heavier than his. “It’s been crunch time since the day I started.”
Gryff watched her as she nibbled her plump lower lip, then let his gaze wander to the campus security officer wandering the field in the distance. He didn’t seem to be looking for Gryff, or anyone in particular, but he was still an annoying presence that Gryff was going to have to deal with somehow.
And maybe Beth was the answer. As it stood, he had no friends here, no allies. He stuck out like a sore thumb even when he tried to blend in, and before long, someone was going to demand to know why he’d been skulking around and not attending any classes.
A girl was the perfect excuse. She’d be his reason for being on campus all the time. Beth, with doe eyes and soft-looking lips and creamy skin, would be his cover story, his shield. And given her demeanor now, he had a feeling she wouldn’t be hard to manipulate.
Hell, maybe he could even have a little fun while he was here. A brief distraction from all the stress of his assignment. Something to make him forget how many friends had died this year. His jaw clenched briefly at the thought.
When he realized the silence had dragged, he forced a bright smile and asked if she wanted to grab some lunch or if she was waiting for friends.
“Nope, no friends,” she said, then hastily added, her cheeks flaming darker, “I mean, no friends that I’m waiting for.”
Her uncomfortable chuckle made him smile, and he nodded in the general direction of the building with the food court. “Well, lucky me.”
Beth looked away, seeming to be biting back a smile.
Perfect. She was perfect for his needs on campus.
And with a mouth that looked so fuckable, he had a feeling she’d be perfect for his other needs too.
Chapter 3
“Can everybody please make sure they have their answers to the discussion questions completed for next time? I’d like to actually have a discussion where everyone can contribute…”
A mass of students packing up their bags, throwing on sweaters, and slowly starting to chatter again all but drowned out Professor Lincoln at the front of the room. Beth Truman, however, was one of the few who actually waited until her professors were done speaking entirely to pack up her things. The young professor’s eyes scanned the room, the final slide of his lecture still up on the board. When those beautiful bright blues met Beth’s, she nodded enthusiastically, wanting him to know at least one person was paying attention. His gaze moved on, and finally he drifted forward to shut off the projector.
Even though she looked enthusiastic about tackling discussion questions, Beth was far from it. To say she was wholly and utterly burned out in her last year of law school would be an understatement—and they weren’t even through the first month yet. October loomed in the very distant future, and she still a full year before her final final exam so she could earn that law degree her father was so keen on her getting.
Hooray.