by J. L. Beck
“Yup, definitely taking her,” Quinton announces.
I want to protest and ask the teacher to keep me here, but I already know he’ll do anything Quinton asks. I press my lips into a thin line and swallow down the words I want to say. Like I’m a child, Q escorts me from the gym and into one of the empty corridors.
“I’ve got it from here,” I snap at him as soon as we’re alone, trying to shrug him off.
“I don’t think so. You need to go to see a doctor and get your head checked, and I need to have the nurse look at my neck where a feral cat bit me and my arms where that same animal scratched me.”
“The only animal here is you. All I did was protect myself,” I growl, wanting to sink my nails into his face.
“Are you sure about that? I could have sworn you were rubbing your ass into my crotch like a cat in heat.”
“You’re delusional.”
“And you’re feisty,” he counters. “Kinda gets my cock hard a little, but not as much as you passed out. I like you better when you’re not talking or moving. Kind of like a doll I can play with.” I can’t believe I ever said he was attractive in any way. I knew that darkness lurked inside of men like him, but I never anticipated it would be directed at me.
“You know they make blow-up dolls for guys like you who can’t get a girl to like them. I think they even have a hole to stick your dick in.” I don’t know why I keep antagonizing him. Maybe he would leave me alone if I just kept my mouth closed. Then again, I’m done being shit on and treated like crap by my peers.
“I’d rather stick my dick in something warm.” His arm is still wrapped around my back, and when he pulls me closer, I grind my teeth together and press my feet into the floor, trying to get him to release me.
“I hear the pie in the cafeteria is served warm.”
“Do you ever shut up?” He shakes his head. “Talking will be the downfall of your entire family. Your father didn’t know when to shut up, and as it turns out, you don’t either.”
I can’t help but wince at his words. Pain slices through me at the reminder of everything my family has already lost, and I have no witty comeback to that.
“Are you sure this is the way to the medical building?” I ask when I realize we’ve been walking down this corridor for a while.
Quinton doesn’t answer, but he picks up his pace, making it hard for my shorter legs to keep up. An uneasy feeling builds in my gut, and I force my legs to stop walking, digging my heels once again into the ground.
I lean back into Q’s hold, turn my head, and look up at him. The lights are dimmed in the halls, making it hard for me to make out his features, but what I do see will haunt my dreams for the next week. The way he’s looking at me right now—like I’m his prey, instead of a human with feelings and needs—makes me shiver. The darkness in his gaze mounts and his lips curl up at the sides, his features turning villainous.
“You’re not taking me to medical, are you?” I try to hide how afraid I am of the answer, but the low shudder in my words gives my fear away.
“Smart and funny. You’d be the total package if it weren’t for your fucking mouth. Maybe if I find a better use for it, you won’t be so unbearable to be around.”
I don’t know why, but I feel the need to apologize. Perhaps it’ll make him change his mind about wherever it is he’s leading me. “Look, I’m sorry. About what I said this morning.”
He tightens his hold on me, his fingers digging into my flesh with bruising force, and he forces me to take a step forward, basically dragging me alongside him.
“I don’t give a fuck about what you said this morning. I don’t want your apology. That won’t save you from me.” He releases me and shoves me back against the wall, and pain radiates down my spine upon impact. His huge frame cages me in, leaving me no escape. I can feel the heat from his body rolling off him and into me.
I shiver at the coldness in his gaze, and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at his next sentence. “What I want are your screams, your tears. I want you weak and immobile. I want you begging me to stop while I take and take until there’s nothing left to take.”
I was certain I had felt real, true fear before now, like back in the gym when he choked me, but nothing compares to this moment.
“Please, Quinton, just let me go. I’ll leave you alone. I’ll stay out of your way. I won’t come back to PE. It’ll be like I was never here. Like I never existed at all.” I’m full-on rambling now, grasping at straws for anything that might get me out of this situation.
Quinton tips his head back and laughs like I just told him a joke. The sound bounces off the walls and echoes back into my ears. It’s as menacing as it is mocking.
I choose then to make a run for it. I might not be strong enough to fight him, but if I get a head start, I can outrun him. Adrenaline spikes in my veins, and I dart under his arm, putting every last bit of energy I have into escaping him.
“I don’t think so, Aspen.” His voice caresses my ear a moment before his hand circles my wrist. A scream catches in my throat as he whirls me around, shoving me against the wall and wrapping his hand firmly around the slender column of my neck.
“Don’t. You don’t want to do this,” I croak, barely getting the words out as his grip tightens. He leans into me—the hard ridges of his body fit mine so perfectly. I let out a wheezed gasp when his hard cock presses against my stomach.
“That’s the problem. I do want to do this. I want to do this more than anything.” The air in my chest rattles, and I’m afraid of what will happen next.
I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing to sink deep into my mind, when suddenly, Quinton’s grip on my throat disappears.
“What do you think you’re doing?” A young, feminine voice meets my ears. I blink my eyes open, turning in the direction of the voice.
About twenty feet away stands a woman with bright blue hair, black-rimmed glasses, and a scowl on her face that could rival Quinton’s. She appears young but not young enough to be a student. She adjusts her cardigan and continues staring at us.
“Well…” She taps her foot on the floor impatiently, awaiting an answer. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, so even if I wanted to say something, I couldn’t.
“We were just talking, weren’t we…?” Quinton’s jaw clenches at the effort it takes for him to expel the words.
“I’m sure that’s what you were doing. Why don’t you get out of here, and I’ll pretend I didn’t see or hear the entire conversation?”
Leaning into my ear, he whispers, “You got lucky this time. Next time, you’re mine.”
My throat constricts, and I don’t dare look at Quinton. I’m afraid of what I’ll see if I do. His searing body heat fades as he takes a step back and then another, putting enough space between us to where I can finally breathe. The heady scent of man and woodsy cologne drift away, and I continue staring at the woman, my heart thumping against my ribs, threatening to break free.
Quinton’s footsteps disappear into the distance, and I let out a heaving breath, nearly collapsing against the wall. I wasn’t even aware of how tightly strung every inch of my body was until now. I guess fear will do that to you.
“Come, let’s go into the library. I’ll make you a cup of hot cocoa, and you can calm down a little,” the young woman offers.
“Who are you?” I ask, my voice cracking.
“I’m Brittney, the librarian.” The library. Just the thought has me calming down slightly. I push off the wall, my limbs shaking as I take a hesitant step toward her. I don’t want to call her my savior, but in a way, she saved me. “You look a little shaken up,” she states the obvious, and I turn to look over my shoulder to see if Quinton actually left or if he’s hiding somewhere behind me.
I want to go into the library and wait it out a bit before trying to head back to my dorm, but not one single teacher or student has been kind to me since I arrived. This woman, even if she is the librarian, could be just as mean and
hateful as the others. This could be a trick, or it couldn’t.
I don’t have a lot of options, but I do know whatever this teacher could do to me is small in comparison to what would happen if Q got a hold of me right now. I start walking toward her, and the closer I get, the more I realize she is standing in the archway of two massive double doors. Once I’m close enough, she whirls around on her heels and walks into the library.
Following her, I stop at the entrance to stare inside. As soon as I do, I realize that this is one of the tunnels that connects to the castle part. The ceilings are much higher and bowed, giving the space an airy feel. Numerous glass windows on the right side of the room let ample light in. My feet move all on their own, and I enter deeper into the room. The space is warm and inviting, with hanging chandeliers that I’m sure look magical at night.
I don’t want to admit how much I already love this place.
Tables are situated on both sides of the room while rows upon rows of books lie ahead of me. In the center of the room is the circulation desk, where Brittney, the librarian, is headed. A bookworm’s heaven, that’s what this library is. The tiniest of smiles tugs at my lips, but I sink my teeth into my lip to stop the smile from showing.
Like a timid mouse, I trail her. She walks behind the circulation desk, and I approach slowly, half expecting her to start laughing in my face or something.
“There’s a sitting area over there. Go sit, and I’ll bring you your drink.”
“You don’t have to.” I try to make my voice sound strong, but it comes out wispy.
She lifts one of her dark brows and pins me with a do-as-you’re-told stare. I decide to listen and walk around the desk and into the open space. There are leather couches and chairs, and the space is boxed in with bookshelves, making it the perfect place to sit and read your favorite book. I sink down onto one of the leather couches; the smell of books, leather, and chocolate permeates the air.
I stare off into space, not ready to digest what almost happened.
“Here,” Brittney says, handing me the mug. Her voice startles me, and I jump in my seat, my hand going to my chest.
I sputter to get, “Thank you,” out and take the mug from her, staring down into it.
“You’re welcome,” she says, and I watch out of the corner of my eye as she takes a seat on a big comfy-looking chair across from me. Hesitantly, I bring the mug to my lips and take a sip of the steaming hot liquid. “Now, normally, I don’t allow students to eat or drink in the library, but for you, I’ll bend the rules a little bit.”
I look up from the mug, the steam billowing out of it, and find Brittney is smiling, and though it looks like a genuine smile, I can’t be sure. While she seems nice, I don’t want to owe anyone any favors or dig myself a deeper hole. Her threat to Quinton still hangs in the air, and I know if she truly heard and saw what happened, she has the power to tell someone, and that could make my time here a lot harder. I need to end this, need to tell her I’m okay, that he wasn’t hurting me or bothering me. I should’ve said something in the hall, but I was too afraid, too shocked that someone had stopped him.
The other option would be to confide in her, to tell her the truth, but that seems like a bad idea, one that could blow up in my face. I decide to go with the first idea for now.
“Whatever you saw or heard…” I start, but she waves her hand out in front of her, stopping me in my tracks.
“When you want to talk about it, we can talk about it, but for right now, feel free to sit here and enjoy your drink.”
“I just want you to know he wasn’t hurting me or anything,” I continue. The lie rolls off my tongue so easily, it’s scary.
She leans forward in the chair and pushes her black glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her gaze is pensive as she studies me. The light catches on something silver, and it’s then that I notice the ring in her nose. “As I said, we can talk about it later.”
She doesn’t let on if she believes me or not. She simply ends the conversation and moves on, almost like she is giving me an out. Giving me a chance to talk to her when I’m ready to speak the truth. “Why don’t you tell me what your name is?”
I gulp down some more of the hot cocoa, cursing myself as it burns a path of fire down my throat. “Aspen,” I wheeze, half choking.
Brittney laughs. “It’s called hot cocoa for a reason. It’s hot, or it would be called lukewarm cocoa. You sip it, not gulp it.”
This time, I return the smile and lower the cup from my mouth slowly. “Sorry. I’m kind of ashamed I didn’t make it here sooner. I love books, and this library is like a bookworm’s haven.” I peer around the room, drinking in the grandness of it.
She sighs. “I wish more students felt the same, but they don’t.”
“They’re stupid,” I deadpan. “I could live here.” It’s a joke, well, kind of. This library is already a place I could see myself coming to daily.
Silence settles around us, and I sip on my warm drink, letting it calm me from the inside out. For a brief speck in time, I forget about Quinton, about my father being in prison, about my crumbling life. I let it all fall to the wayside and relax in the comfort surrounding me.
I frown once I reach the bottom of my cup and look up at Brittney, who has been watching me the whole time.
“Thank you so much for…the cocoa, and…” I trail off. I’m not really ready to explain what was going on out in the hall.
“No worries, and I want you to know you’re welcome back here anytime. In fact, I’m already looking forward to seeing you again.”
I can’t help but smile, especially since she’s the first teacher to talk to me—the first person to treat me like a human in this twisted place. I hand her the mug and push off the leather sofa. My legs feel like Jell-O, and I’m exhausted, both mentally and physically. I can only hope that when I walk out of here, Quinton isn’t waiting for me.
“Thank you, Brittney. I’ll definitely be back, and next time, I’m bringing a book.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” She smiles, and I can feel her eyes on me as I walk out of the library. And just like that, I think I’ve found the one haven I’ll have at Corium.
As soon as I step out into the hall, I pull out my phone and check the map to figure out where the hell I’m going. I make it to my afternoon class just in time, which, by some miracle, goes by without an incident.
When I finally get done for the day, all I want to do is sprint to my dorm and lock myself in. But the corridor is crowded with people trying to get into their room. Then my stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. I ignore the grumbling and use my key card to get in my room. I’ll sacrifice dinner tonight if that means I don’t have to worry about running into Quinton again.
7
QUINTON
It didn’t take me long to figure out who the blue-haired lady was. I’m not sure how the quirky woman in her late twenties ended up at this place, but something tells me she’s going to be trouble, at least where Aspen is concerned.
It was pure luck that she slipped through my fingers the other day.
I could’ve forced the librarian’s hand. It was, after all, my word against hers, and knowing who my father is and how much money he invested in this place made it certain she would shut her mouth in risk of losing her job, but something about making Aspen feel like she had escaped me added to the thrill. It heightened the stakes of the game.
It was fucked up, but fucking with her was a high I never wanted to come down from.
A knock echoes through the apartment, and I don’t bother moving off the couch to get the door. Ren is already across the room, ready to host our first gathering with a couple of other guys we know. I’ve been spending way too much time studying Aspen’s social media, which is seriously lacking. She hasn’t made a single post in months, and even before that, it was nothing I could use against her.
“I brought beer,” Nash yells as he walks through the open door.
“Thank fuck!” I shove off the couch and slide my phone into my pocket. Nash’s father is a close colleague of my father’s, but he’s not the same caliber of criminal. Except for some petty theft, the guy’s never killed or hurt anyone. No, his crimes include money laundering, fraud, and bribes. I can see why his father sent him here, though. Not only does he want him to form connections, but it’s clear that Nash needs some assistance in becoming a better criminal, which is exactly what this place is for. You can’t protect your empire if you don’t know how.
Ren closes the door, and a moment later, it opens again. Matteo comes walking in like he owns the place.
“Sure, come right in, make yourself at fucking home,” Ren says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Matteo, who is a bear of a man, simply shrugs. He’s as tall as I am and as muscled as both Ren and I combined. He grunts and walks right past Ren.
Matteo is the son of Dick Valentine, an assassin who works for my father. Like me, I doubt he’s here for training. I don’t know anything about Matteo’s and Dick’s relationship, so I can’t say why he’s here, but his father’s been preparing him to be a trained killer since he was a kid. Nothing at this school can teach him more than his own father has.
After Ren passes me a beer, he twists the cap off his. I gladly accept it, twist the cap off, and swallow down half the beer in two gulps.
Nash plops down at the tiny dining room table, provided so kindly by the university. “Does anyone else agree the pickings for girls here are fucking slim? I thought college was supposed to be hot college coeds fucking each other. Every girl here wants to scratch my eyes out.”
“The Russian girl seems to be up for a good time,” I say between sips of beer.
“No thanks. She is batshit crazy like her mother. I’d rather jerk off than worry about her killing me in my sleep.”
Matteo shrugs, his dark gaze emotionless. “What about Aspen Mather?”