A Protector's Touch: A New Adult College Romance & Romantic Suspense Novel

by Parker Sinclair

  Would I mourn Derrick if he died trying to kill me? I am sure there would be a period of sadness for the man I thought he was, and for Shan, the dad he wished he was.

  I struggle with the coffee in the machine. I’m more of a tea person, so this contraption confuses the hell out of me. Thankfully, my roommate is pretty much never here, or she would kill me with all the noise I was making.

  Shan. A hero. It doesn’t surprise me. I can see him tearing into the burning house and carrying her out. How intense this all must be for him to handle. All of the pieces have fallen into place now. It must have been her on the phone most of the time. After the story she told, I’d answer every call from her as well. And with the numerous surgeries she’s undergone, I am sure he’s been on call all these years. All those times leaving chemistry lectures make even more sense; yet, with all of my daydreams about why he’d have to take the call, I would have never wished this upon him or his family.

  The worst thing I am continually thinking about—the worst because it’s so damn selfish of me—is that this is why he looked at me that day in lecture. When he caught sight of the bruise on my face, it must have come rushing back. Those times he saw his mom’s own swellings of black and blue, or even saw his father strike his mom. Maybe even him. She didn’t talk about Shan much after he left. It wasn’t her story to tell. I’d be lying to myself if I said that I didn’t dig deeper when I got back to my dorm. I flipped my laptop open faster than a beer bottle at a frat party and immersed myself in anything I could find on the case. How haunting it must be for the family after seeing similarities between Shan and his father, John Carp. Their height, build, hair, but I could also see plenty of Nicole. He may look like his dad, and still carry his last name, but from what I’ve witnessed and heard, that’s where their similarities end.

  After chugging down half a cup of straight black coffee, I wrestle with my uncomfortable sports bra, which is no different from every single one I own, and throw on my team jacket and shorts. My laces are a disaster—knots full off mud and dried leaves have me nearly cutting them off and relacing new ones. The knot finally gives and I shove my feet in, my eyes closing for a moment to see the picture of Shan’s face once again.

  A new knot forming, not in the laces, but in my heart.

  ***

  I am going too fast, warp speed fast, and I know it. My lungs know it, and my legs for sure know it, but I don’t care. The adrenaline from yesterday is helping me to keep up with the top pack.

  Not only had Shan thrown me for a double flip, round-off, back handspring, his mother’s words also find their way running laps around and around in my head. How the man she loved hurt her. How she knew he was dangerous, but she never thought he’d be capable of doing that. Did the courts care? No, John Carp was influential. Well known in their community, all rallied around him, thinking he could do no wrong. And do you think they came to Nicole’s aid once the truth became disastrously revealed? No, instead they spoke more about what damage must have been done to him to trigger his madness. Meaning, what she had done to him. Taking Mr. Carp’s children away. Leaving him before “till death do us part” became a new version of reality. Once the smoke and ashes cooled, Nicole changed her last name, moved her family away from that narrow-minded town, and made a new start elsewhere.

  No one really speaks this early, which is perfect for me anyhow. The startled expression I can’t shake must look like I’ve seen a zombie-ghost eating the brains of a vampire in a flaming pentagram. I’ve always been a little overdramatic. Thankfully the early hour makes everyone look similar, except for Sandy. Damn, that girl is always bright and chipper. I think she must have an espresso pump strapped to her central vein. She couldn’t care less about why I hold a haunted look. Her eyes are for Ian. Too bad he’s more in love with himself than he could ever be with anyone else. Almost makes me feel sorry for her, but I’m too busy wishing for just once that she would have a single bad hair day or a dark circle or two under her eyes.

  I don’t have to answer questions; that’s the point of all of this rambling in my head. I mean what can I say? I would never tell Shan’s secret. It isn’t mine to share, and I don't want to ever share my secret—not to my team. I don’t want to see their eyes looking at me in concern, or worse, pity or denial. Just as Shan’s mom met skeptics and deniers of her own, I’ve had my share of nasty phone calls from Derrick’s new conquest. Or had beer spilled on me “by mistake” when one of his soccer buddies passed by at one of the rare parties I’ve dared to attend since our final breakup nearly a month ago. They’d rather believe him than me, those guys who called me their friend.

  Some people joke that they don’t run unless they are being chased. Well, my past is haunting me, and the look on Shan’s face mixed with the fearful story of his mother’s near-death drive me to tear through this run at the ass-crack of dawn.

  “Somewhere to be this morning?” Ian questions as I come up on his right. “You’re not usually at our early morning jogs. Why change now? Something on your mind?”

  “I don’t know, Ian,” I sneer. “It just sounded like a good idea when I woke up, pumped and ready to go at five a.m.”

  He stays on my flank, but I don’t slow down to stay with him, his exertion apparent.

  “I doubt that’s it. Perhaps you can’t sleep after being dumped by your soccer boyfriend. Heard you were the crazy jealous type. ‘Psycho,’ I think the guys were saying in the locker room.”

  If only I were graceful enough to somehow nail him right in the sack and keep running, I would have. Instead, I tense as I let the fearful April climb her way out again. The one who formed when Derrick got his claws wedged into the lobes of my brain. Worrying about what people were saying about me paralyzes my mind, which in turn slows my legs, leaving me with nothing to look at but Ian’s back.

  The chuckles from the swine in reflective running gear now ahead of me should have lit my fire, but the ungodly hour and lack of sleep slug into my muscles and take me down to an even lower gear.

  Others pass me by, but it isn’t until Sandy cheerfully catches up with me that I am able to comprehend the stupid pit of poor me I’ve fallen into this morning.

  “Doesn’t it feel wonderful out here? I mean, I didn’t get to do my hair or anything, and I know I look dreadful without all my makeup, but it’s worth it. Don’t you think?”

  I want to yell at her to keep her bright and cheery, Barbie-looking, Sesame Street-singing mouth shut, but that isn’t going to help, and it’s not who I am. She’s only trying to be nice. Why does she like that creep Ian, anyhow?

  Besides, she is right. Once I set aside the pictures of stupid jocks talking crap about me in the locker room and brought myself back to this moment, it was easier to feel the smooth, chilly air passing my face. It’s crisp and warming with the slowly rising sun. Knowing Ian, he’s saying anything and everything to get into my head, but I wouldn’t put it past Derrick to shoot his mouth off in front of anyone who would listen. If it makes him look better, then why not?

  I made a promise to myself, to my group, to Nia, and that promise was to eradicate the fearful April from my mind. A commitment to instead bring forward the courageous and brave April. The one who doesn’t care what others think of her—especially college boys whose egos nearly always trump the truth.

  “You’re right, Sandy. It is an incredible morning. This six-a.m. stuff isn’t so bad after all.”

  “Makes us stronger I say,” she replies, looking at me slyly. “What do you say we gain back your ground. I feel like showing these boys a thing or two this morning, don’t you?”

  I’m starting to think Sandy isn’t as clueless as her spunky, head-in-the-clouds portrayal makes her appear to be. We’re all just playing a part at times, aren’t we?

  “Sounds like a plan. You know Ian’s not good enough for you, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m starting to see that. Cute guys need to realize their hotness wears off when they choose to be a dick.”

&n
bsp; I think I’ve misjudged Sandy.

  Chapter 6

  Unforeseen

  ~

  I should have planned better before running off from my dorm without the necessities to catch a shower in the locker room where our run ends. Now that my adrenaline has worn off, and Sandy and I worked it to pass Ian just for fun, I’m done. The extra steps needed to get into hot water and clean clothes at my dorm across campus are easing the dread into my tired muscles and mucking up my mind. While everyone else is showering, I start my slow pace across the eerily quiet campus, the silence apparently another thing I didn’t notice on my burst of sleep-deprived, over-caffeinated faux high.

  The fog easing down from the mountains to wrap around our feet while we were running has swept away, leaving only the wet dew to kiss the sharp blades of grass. Feet echo behind me, sneakered feet, cautious versus determined feet. Not Derrick’s feet. The fact that I know what it sounds like to be pursued by him curdles my stomach while easing my shoulders away from my ears. The steps stutter. Hesitating.

  “Do you mind if I walk with you?”

  Shan’s voice sends smooth words, like warm, teasing wax throughout my mind before dripping down into my instantly tingly hidden spots. Thank goodness for this bulky sweatshirt and curse my surging hormones.

  I realize I haven’t turned around; instead, my feet choose to keep on going. Shan must think I’m ignoring him, so I will myself to stop moving, taking deep breaths to prepare to face him, to see his eyes, the eyes that widened when they saw me across the screen.

  Managing to slow to the pace of a painted Vegas statue performer, I meet him with a shaky smile. “Hi, and um, yes, sure. I mean, I’d like that.” Oh God, April, get it together!

  “Join the early risers’ run this morning? Don’t think I’ve seen you join that one before.”

  Did his cheeks just flush?

  “I mean I try to get here in the gym early on Sundays. It’s dead in the weight room, so I usually see them leave. Not you, though. You don’t usually leave with them, do you?”

  His fumbling over words is easing my nerves. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was doing it on purpose, but he’s not Derrick. He’s Shan. A nice guy. A hero.

  “No, you’re right, and I don’t think you’re a stalker for knowing, so don’t worry.” That’s right, nice, light and flirty. That was flirty, right? But didn’t his dad stalk his mom? Crap! God, just stop overthinking and laugh. Ugh, not that type of laugh. “I couldn’t sleep and decided to drink coffee, which I never drink, so here I am.”

  Ta-da!

  “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep much either,” he adds after a slight pause. “Look, no one really knows about my mom here, and I don’t—”

  “I’d never say anything,” I jump in, touching his arm at the same time, just now realizing how close I am to him. “It’s not my story to tell.” We’ve never been this chummy, but it didn’t feel wrong, so I didn’t shy away, for once.

  His eyes move from his arm to my face and back again. “Thanks. I figured you wouldn’t. You don’t seem like that type of person.”

  Now it’s my turn to let blush hit my cheeks.

  We walk for a while without saying a thing. The silence is pleasant. I don’t feel the need to throw out words, and it also doesn’t seem like anything is wrong just because we aren’t talking. Birds become louder as the day warms, and we are able to spot a variety of them dashing around the campus trees and into nests in the eaves of the dorm. Everything seems right, in line with the comfort of our bodies walking side by side. His presence eases me to a state I’ve been unfamiliar with for quite some time now. It’s a sense of protection, but without suffocation.

  “Well, this is me.” My words meaning two things, my home and me as a person, as we both look at the gray and brown stones of my building. “Do you still stay in campus athlete housing or did you move off campus?” I know this answer, but I don’t want to seem like an actual stalker.

  “I’m still on campus. It’s the best deal for my family, and I’m closer to everything. I’m not normally much of a morning person. Sundays are different.”

  The weight of his comment makes my mind spin with gnat-like questions. When did Nicole say it happened? Was it a Sunday? Oh. Yes, it was. He looks up at the door to my dorm and back to my face. His smile lights up by the colorful rising of the sun against the smattering of feathered clouds. He’s gorgeous, even more so when I can finally look into his eyes instead of stealing glances or knowing he was looking at me.

  “How’s your breakfast here?”

  The same as every dorm is my first thought, but why would I say something so dumb when this may be him asking to come and join me inside. My mind jolts like a spark plug at the thought of having him joining me where I’ve only invited Derrick or my girlfriends.

  It’s just breakfast, April. Calm down. He wants to get to know you, and don’t you want to know him better as well?

  Of course, she does, you idiot. Don’t you, April?

  Oh great, now there’s three of me. That’s not going to go over well. I must look like I’m about to throw up, and I can see Shan’s face shift from one of hopefulness to this-was-a-mistake.

  Hurry, say something! says my first inner voice.

  Just don’t say anything stupid! Yep, that’s the new girl. She’s fun and super nice.

  “It’s great, I mean every cereal you could want, and I think they actually make real eggs on Sunday. Probably because not many of us make it down here early enough,” I quip while miming the tilting back of the red Solo cup motion.

  Stop that!

  “Do you mind if I join you?”

  “Yes, I mean no. No, I don’t mind,” I babble before taking a deep, stabilizing breath. “I’d love for you to join me.”

  I don’t hold back on the loading of my tray with a full plate of eggs, bacon (kind of), and cereals of all types. The ladies helping the line, the ones who know me well enough to see the real importance of Shan next to me as we shuffle-step through the empty line, give me wide eyes when he looks away, and a few times when he doesn’t. Mae had decided to overload my plate of eggs before moving on to Shan’s, swiveling her head back and forth, resulting in fumbling of bouncy, yellow sponginess all over the counter.

  If Shan notices, it doesn’t show. He is a gentleman with each “thank you” and “have a wonderful day.” I turn back as we walk away from the chattering ladies to see the many thumbs-up, and one ride-that-pony dance, which makes it tricky when I spin back around with a jiggling tray.

  “They are much cooler here than in my dorm. I’m lucky to get a tablespoon of eggs at Letts Hall.”

  I freeze, and he freezes, the tension ratcheting up a notch between us.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring any of that into our time together.”

  Derrick’s dorm is Letts Hall. It’s townhomes for upperclassmen collegiate athletes or band members. How did I not know that they lived in the same place? Wait, why do I care?

  Yeah, why do you care? He said “…our time together.” Now enjoy it!

  My lips shoot out a pfft and I wave my hand at the invisible memory of that tool, Derrick. “Don’t worry about it. That’s behind me now.”

  He smiles, but a mirrored crease around his eyes shows the doubt borne from his personal history with another woman who may have said the exact same words before a raging fire changed their lives forever.

  I couldn’t shy away from the look hidden behind that smile, holding my own as if the joy behind it could melt away any of the worries from his mind.

  Don’t ruin this, came the first voice.

  Don’t let him ruin this, came my new favorite voice.

  “Told you they had real eggs. It’s like a present and maybe another excuse for me to get my butt up for the Sunday runs.”

  My words tug a genuine smile loose from those incredible lips—a creaseless, worry-eye free smile that eases that tremor of tension in the air from the ghost of Derrick past.<
br />
  “This is a hundred times better than my usual Sunday.”

  Cue my goofy, overly excited grin. “It’s a date.”

  You go, girl!

  Chapter 7

  Date Night

  ~

  So, this is a date—a true and real date with a guy who isn’t only thinking of himself, who isn’t trying to control me and everything and everyone else.

  This is our first real date where it’s just the two of us. Over the last month, we’ve had three Sundays in a row at breakfast and meeting out with friends, on top of the constant texting or phone calls every day. Tonight is different. I’ve had him all to myself; first for a movie, and now we are enjoying each other—oh, and our dinner. Thank God he likes movies. Derrick would go, but he was obnoxious the whole time and had no interest in the ones I wanted to see. He instead treated it like we were in a hotel room, groping me even with people on both sides of us. When I’d put a stop to it, he’d be pissed and start a fight with me about how I don’t really love him before dropping me off at home and giving me the silent treatment for days. Warning signs. Lots of warning signs. And all the while he was hooking up with other girls on the side, probably excusing them by thinking I needed to be put in my place for not fanning his ego enough.

  But with Shan, it is so much easier. Before tonight, he asked me what I wanted to see, and we easily agreed on a fantasy adventure flick. Afterward, we found our way to this cute, quiet pho restaurant—another thing the “other” guy would never want to do. His interest in culinary adventures was limited, and if Derrick didn’t want to, it didn’t happen. More warning signs.

  The moments of Shan’s worried eyes creeping into our time together started to fade away slowly over the course of the evening. He even spoke about his mom more before our soup came, which made asking more questions about his life even easier.