by K. A Knight
I shake my head, straightening at her words. She’s right. Fear has never stopped me before, so why should it now? He can’t get away with this. It’s wrong and I’m pretty sure illegal, and seeing as though we’re both students…an idea comes to mind and I look at Nadia.
“I need your help,” I tell her, my voice scratchy but stronger now.
She nods. “Fuck yes! Are we burying a body or destroying a bitch? I’m down for both, just need to know what tools I need to bring.”
“Neither, yet,” I tell her, and her face drops.
“Awww, Scar, come on, let’s destroy this fucking bastard,” she whines, pouting at me.
“We’re going to, but the legal way. I want him gone, I want him to suffer, and I want him to be an example to others that they can’t do this. I want other girls on campus that he may have done this to, to know they aren’t alone and that he won’t get away with it,” I snarl, my anger finally racing through my body.
“Fuck yes!” she yells, high-fiving me. She passes over my phone and I wipe at my face.
“What’s the plan?” she asks.
Sitting behind the light brown desk, with a name plate proudly placed on the top beside a pen holder and little cat figurine, is Mrs. Kilop. She’s in her late forties, with wrinkles pulling at her pursed lips and squinting brown eyes. Her blonde-grey hair is pulled back so tightly it tugs at her forehead, and her blue shirt is buttoned all the way to the top and tucked into her too tight pencil skirt, with black heels finishing off the look.
After going to student services, they had directed me to her. I had to wait over an hour before we were escorted into her office and told to sit in the not so comfortable cotton chairs opposite her desk. They are smaller than hers, giving her the impression of power as her leather chair towers over us.
I have a bad feeling, but I need to do this. I need to come to the university. Aren’t they always telling us we can trust them and that they are here to help us with everything and anything? Hell, the posters for bullying, drugs, and alcohol issues coat every building, proudly boasting that they have a support system in place if only we come forward. So, I’m doing just that, coming forward.
“So, ladies, what seems to be the issue?” she asks, pressing her hands together on her desk as she squints at us.
Nadia nods at me and I blow out a breath, crossing my legs and stealing my spine, my phone burning a hole in my pocket. “I have an issue with another student at this university, and I feel you need to be made aware and maybe investigate it, since it might affect other students here,” I start.
“I see, I will judge that of course, but can you tell me what the problem seems to be?” she inquires, her eagle eyes taking me in. I frown at that. It sounded like she was trying to say I don’t know my own mind and what would cause others’ issues. Is she dismissing me already? Forcing myself to forge ahead, I explain about the images and the blackmail, having to swallow back all my feelings and simply outline what’s happened.
“I think he might be doing this to other girls,” I finish.
She shakes her head. “We can’t know that, that’s speculation made in your heightened emotional state. Now, can I ask, what do you want the university to do about this? This is your private life, not even conducted on university property, I may add.”
I blink in shock, my anger coming back full force. “Yes, I have heightened emotions because I feel threatened by one of your students, which you seem to be completely overlooking. If he’s doing this to me, he’s undoubtedly doing this to other people, and based on the confidence he has to threaten me only shows he feels comfortable conducting this sort of behaviour on your campus without repercussions. What sort of message are you sending if you let this carry on?” I snap.
She holds her hand up. “Let me stop you there. If the university looked into every issue students had with each other, we would never have time for actual issues. This does not seem to be a problem for the university, but for yourself. If you do not wish him to share these…indecent images,” she sneers, “then you should have considered that before you allowed him to take them.”
It hits me like a punch to the gut, but I refuse to allow her to make me feel bad for trusting someone. “That’s not the problem, and you dismissing my fears shows the lack of care you have for your students. You claim you’re here to support us, yet I sit opposite you asking for help and you’re dismissing my claims and demeaning me. Yes, maybe I shouldn’t have let him take them, but I did, and I can guarantee a lot of girls have done the same, which still does not give him the right to share them with the world and embarrass and shame me. To make it so much worse, I didn’t consent to some of those pictures and you are ignoring that. I would have thought, as a woman, you would have understood how we shouldn’t be shamed for our sexuality, and would want to help stop a first-class student from feeling like she can’t come to you,” I tell her, but she waves her hand.
“As I’ve said, this is not a university issue. Please, do not take it personally. However, if you feel unsafe or threatened, I would contact the police, that’s all I can do.” She shrugs then, dismissing me completely.
“Let me get this straight, not only are you going to do nothing about this, you’re dismissing me without even going to advise anyone about his behaviour?” I summarise slowly, wanting to be sure.
“Please do not take that tone with me. Your problems are your own, we can’t be responsible for every…girl’s bad decision after she regrets whoring around,” she snaps, and my mouth drops open.
“Did you just call me a whore?” I question incredulously.
“I suggest you leave now,” she barks, narrowing her eyes on me.
“Oh, I will, but I won’t forget this. I came to you in confidence, and not only did you ignore my concerns, you insulted a student. I suggest you think about your actions, because I’m betting I’m not the only student you have ignored, and I won’t let this stand,” I counter, standing up.
She smiles then. “I think you have bigger issues, don’t you?”
With that, she turns to her computer and ignores us. I look at a pissed off Nadia and sweep from the room, feeling rage racing through my body. “What a fucking cunt! I swear, Scarlett, we won’t let her get away with this. Fuck, did you see the way she was looking down on us?” she yells and I nod.
“I did, but she was right, we have bigger issues. I’ll deal with this later. Now, what the hell do I do about the pictures?” I deflate then, so sure they would have offered me help. “I don’t want to go to the police,” I mutter.
“Why not?” she asks, stepping closer.
“Because then it’s going to spread like wildfire. I’ll have to give a statement and my personal life will be public. They will need the pictures, everyone will see them... Plus, how long do you think it will take them to deal with it? By the time they do, he might have already plastered them everyone for people to see,” I say sadly, knowing in my heart I’m right. “No, the police can’t help, they will only make it worse.”
“So, what are you going to do?” she inquires.
I look into her eyes and know I have no other option. I pull my phone from my pocket and dial.
Chapter Seventeen
Maximus
Blocking the knife heading for my face, I quickly disarm the man as he screams and flies at me with his fists raised. Rolling my eyes, I dodge his blows. My phone starts to vibrate and my heart races, knowing it could be Scarlett…but she doesn’t normally ring me. Is she okay? Fuck. Worry takes over so I finish playing with the man. I knock him out with one punch, and then using his own knife, slit his throat. I wipe my prints away as I pull out my phone and answer before she hangs up.
“Hey, you okay?” I ask, slightly out of breath as I search the scene for anything that could lead back to me. The client paid me to make this look like a break in gone wrong, so I quickly trash the place as swiftly as I can, but she must hear.
“Sorry, is this a bad time?” she questions qu
ietly, but something in her voice makes me freeze.
“Scarlett, what’s going on?” I demand, a bad feeling starting in my stomach. Why does she sound like that? Did someone hurt her?
She breathes down the phone and I almost growl at her. “I need you,” she whispers softly.
“Where are you?” I rumble, pulling out my keys as I look around before leaving the apartment, taking the steps three at a time in my rush to get to her.
“The university,” she answers, sounding scared.
“I’ll be there in five. Are you okay to wait that long? Are you safe? Do you need to stay on the phone with me?” I rush out, running to my Jeep and firing it up. I pull an illegal U-turn and speed through traffic as I place my phone on speaker in my lap. “Scarlett,” I snap when she doesn’t answer.
“No, I’ll be okay until then, I’ll meet you where we normally do,” she says before hanging up.
Ignoring the speed limit, I race through downtown as a panic like I’ve never felt before clouds my vision. I’m the calm one, nothing bothers me, it’s why I pull the dangerous missions. I can think clearly under pressure, but as soon as it comes to Scarlett, I can’t.
All I can think about is getting her in my arms so I know she’s okay. Gripping the wheel, I move through traffic like I’m racing and pull up in the car park in under five minutes. I’m out of the car before I even engage the handbrake, racing across the cark park to where she’s standing with her friend. Her eyes are red, her face pale, and she looks so fucking sad that it hurts my heart.
I want to scream who the fuck hurt her? I will kill them, but instead, I cover the distance in five long strides and swing her up into my arms, trying to reassure myself she’s okay. She leans into me as I search her body for injuries with my hands, and when I don’t find any, I relax a little, but not much because she’s clinging to me. Her face is buried in my shoulder and her hands twist my shirt. Without a word, I grip her arse, wrap her legs around my waist, and move over to my car.
Kicking open the passenger door, I hear her friend hurrying after me as I place Scarlett in the front seat. Pulling back, I look into her blinking eyes and see the tears there. I grip her cheek and force her to look at me. “What fucking happened?” I demand, but she flinches at the harsh tone, making me feel like shit, so I soften my voice as much as I can with the panic cutting up my insides. Something is seriously wrong, this isn’t like her. “Baby girl, please, tell me,” I beg.
She sniffs, looking into my eyes as I wipe away the tears on her cheeks. Leaning my forehead against hers, I wait. “Please, I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”
“I need your help,” she admits and I frown.
“Always, what happened?” I query.
She blows out a breath, looking behind me at her friend. “Get in the back, Nads. Max, get in,” she orders, and I see some of that fire returning, which is the only reason I listen to her. I kiss her forehead before closing the door. Her friend gets in the back and I shut her door for her as I rush around to the driver’s seat. Once I’m in, I turn to her.
“Tell me everything,” I plead.
She looks out of the window then, her friend remaining quiet in the back, and I let her work through her thoughts, but we aren’t moving until she tells me.
“My ex, he has pictures of me,” she eventually blurts, her eyes coming to rest on me. They are guarded and I frown at that.
“Okay,” I respond slowly, confused for a moment before it clicks.
Pictures of her.
Motherfucker.
I breathe through the jealousy and she watches me before carrying on, “He’s threatening to release them, Max…” She swallows hard, blinking back the tears in her eyes. “Some of them I didn’t consent to, and they are bad, really bad. He says he’s going to spread them everywhere unless I do what he wants. I thought I could handle it, I went to the university and reported him, but she didn’t care.”
“Called her a whore,” Nadia snaps with anger lacing her voice, and I turn cold.
“She what?” I ask, low and deadly.
Scarlett waves it away. “I’m going to deal with her later. Max, I’m scared,” she confesses. “He’ll do it and I’ll never be the same, never have any privacy, everyone could see…” She looks away and I reach across the console, laying my hand on her arm. She jumps and I go to pull back, but she spins and covers my hand, making sure I don’t let go. “I don’t know what to do, Max, I don’t, I’m so scared. I trusted him, I thought I knew him, but I was so wrong, and now he owns me.” She stops then, looking down in shame, and I lean over and pull up her chin with my finger, forcing her to look at me.
“Don’t you dare,” I snap, and she flinches. “Don’t you dare look down. You never have to hide anything from me. Fuck, Scarlett, I’ve done much, much worse things in my life, so don’t you ever hide yourself from me or keep something to yourself because you’re scared. I will never judge you, never shame you, and certainly never abandon you.” My words turn into a whisper, a promise as I look into her eyes. “You’re a woman, you can do what you please with your body. That doesn’t give him the right to betray you like this and blackmail you. But don’t you dare let him win. If you cower away, become ashamed and hide, then he gets what he wants. That isn’t you, I know you, you’re strong, you’re beautiful, and you own your sexuality. Don’t stop because of one asshole, you hear me?” I demand.
She smiles then, slowly at first, before it breaks through the clouds like the sun, splitting her face as she looks at me. “I hear you.”
“Good.” I swipe my thumb across her smile, returning it with one of my own.
“Wow, where did you get one like him? I want one!” her friend in the back exclaims, as we break away while Scarlett laughs.
“Sorry, he’s mine,” she teases, then winks at me, making me fully grin. My heart fills and my chest almost puffs out at that, then I remember what she said and my heart ices over. Someone hurt her, they betrayed her, and they have secrets of hers they shouldn’t have. I can tell how worried she is, so I start the car and look at her.
“I have a plan. Strap in, both of you,” I order, looking at her friend in the mirror. “Nadia, was it?” I ask, and she nods, putting her belt on.
“I’m Max, nice to meet you,” I offer as I pull out of the space.
“Where are we headed?” Scarlett inquires, but she’s relaxed against the seat, watching me.
“Home,” is all I say. Ice-cold fury works through my veins.
Without her consent...it echoes through my head.
He’s a dead man.
We get home in record time, with rage roaring through me, but I try to bottle it up so she doesn’t get scared. If she saw all of that, she would run for sure, so I keep quiet, letting the music soothe her as I imagine all of the ways I’m going to make this boy hurt. For touching her, for having her, for betraying her.
She is mine.
He was stupid, he let her go, and now she’s mine and no one hurts what’s mine.
When we get to my house, I cut the engine and hurry to her door. I let her out, shutting the door behind her, and then close her friend’s door before locking the car and heading up the drive. Once inside, I tell Scarlett to place her hand on the scanner near the door, she does with a confused look and I nod, letting her walk away as I programme the security system to accept her.
After that, I hurry to the kitchen, keeping my mind occupied since it has cut off from my body. I’m moving on autopilot, that quiet rage pushing me to hurt, to kill. My hands are steady as I make her a cup of tea, and when I come into the living room, I find her sitting on the sofa with Milo, loving him as her friend moves around the room, snooping.
I place the tea on the coffee table in front of her and sit next to them, facing Scarlett. Blowing out a breath, I force myself to speak, my voice rough and dark.
“I just need his name, baby girl,” I request and she nods, looking away.
“Reggie Hills,” she mumbles, a
nd I stand before looking over at Milo. “Protect,” I order.
He jumps up on her and lies across her knee, his eyes going to the door as he waits. I head downstairs, unlocking the safe room, and get to work. Within ten minutes, I know his address, his credit score, his dirty secrets…everything. I close the laptop and lock up before heading upstairs. Her and Nadia are where I left them.
“I’m going to sort it, okay? I won’t be long,” I tell her, and she jumps to her feet. Milo pads after her, remaining pressed to her side to protect her.
“Max, please, I don’t want anyone getting hurt,” she begs, her eyes wide and sad.
Fucking hell, she wrecks me. Even now, after the day she’s had and what he’s put her through, she still worries about anyone getting hurt for her. Striding towards her, I tower over her, hoping she doesn’t mind I’m doing this in front of her friend, but I need her to know she’s safe here, always.
“I need you to trust me,” I tell her, cupping her cheeks. “Do you trust me?”
She nods. “Yes.”
I grin at her. “Good, I’ll sort this out for you, I promise. Stay here and look after Milo. Just relax, okay?”
She smiles at me so fucking sadly that I want to rip the bastard apart, but I know I can’t, not if she reported him. They might look into him in the future, and if he’s dead they will go to her—doesn’t mean I can’t hurt him though. “You okay with Nadia being here?” she questions, worrying.
Leaning down, I kiss her forehead, lingering softly. “Yes, just don’t let her downstairs, okay?” I request.
She nods, leaning into me, and I curl my arms around her before stepping back. “I won’t be long, lock the door, I’ve programmed it for you,” I tell her, as I grab my keys and head outside. I wait until she shuts the door and I hear it lock before I turn, all emotions dropping from my eyes as I head to my car.