Liar: A Dark College Romance (Hillcrest University Book 6)

by Candace Wondrak

  How much death could my shoulders carry?

  “All I have right now is conjecture. The wound on Mr. Weinberger doesn’t match Ray’s typical MO, so if you can think of anything that might help this investigation, please let me know.”

  “Can I…” I swallowed, knowing it was wrong of me to ask, but doing so anyway, “Can I ask how he died?”

  Melendez closed her manila folder, her mouth thinning into a line. Her silence made me believe she wasn’t going to tell me, but in another moment, she opened her mouth and said, “His throat was cut.”

  I paled, my stomach churning.

  “One clean sweep. Whoever did it knew what they were doing. This was no accident.” Melendez paused, letting her words sink in: “This was murder.”

  Oh, God. Did I have another stalker? Was I just stalker bait or something? Was it my clothes, my attitude? I was hardly online these days, so it sure as shit wasn’t my social media presence. What the hell was wrong with me?

  No. I was overreacting. Melendez said it herself, it was all conjecture. All theories and hypothesizing. She had nothing concrete right now.

  “Be careful out there,” Melendez said, getting up. “And if you see anything, call me. I’m going to make sure we’re keeping an eye on you for a while. I don’t want him trying anything else.” She was so sure this was Ray, so positive she knew who the killer was…meanwhile I was horrified.

  Horrified because Hillcrest had another killer on its campus.

  They were going to keep an eye on me because they thought I was the key, the missing link, the bait to catch Ray, but what they didn’t know was that Ray was already off the streets. This…Corey had fallen to someone else. It was almost too much of a coincidence, though, when I was the last one to have seen him.

  I should’ve known by now there were no such things as coincidences. Not around here, not when life and death were involved.

  Melendez led me down the hall, and once I was no longer at her side, I practically ran to the exit doors, my fingers clumsy as they grabbed for my phone.

  I dialed Declan, and he answered almost immediately, “Hey, is everything okay?”

  “I…” My feet stopped. The Hillcrest police department was behind me, Main Street in front of me, its busy lanes full of cars. I was going to walk back to campus, but the knowledge that someone else was out there, possibly watching, gave me pause. This was like deja vu, and I hated every second of it. “No,” I finally answered, because it was the truth.

  “What’s wrong?” Declan’s voice was fraught with concern, and I flinched when I heard it.

  After waiting a moment, my heart started to tug at me. The police station wasn’t far from a house I hadn’t been to in a while…a house I was supposed to go to tomorrow with my guys. I hadn’t heard from Sawyer at all today. Granted, it wasn’t like we spoke every day, but knowing what I did about Corey…

  “Let me call you back,” I said, hanging up before my feet took off.

  I ran. I ran like I’d never ran before. How many would die because of me? And, of course, it had to be because of me. I didn’t believe in coincidences like these. It was too much. I’d almost lost Will and Declan—I would not lose anyone else, even if they weren’t currently with me.

  I crossed roads stupidly, caused a few cars caught in mid-turn to honk at me, but I didn’t care. Soon enough the large rental houses came into view, and I ran right to the big white one, the three-story house that looked more like a mansion than anything else. The house I’d spent so much time in last semester while trying to hide away from Ray. While trying to recover from what I saw at that Halloween party.

  Once I reached the door, I knocked. The sun was above me, shining oddly brightly for a late January day, and I punched the doorbell a few times. Okay, not really punched—more like hit really hard. What if Sawyer was in there dead? What if the killer was here, waiting for me? What if—

  All of my thoughts vanished in a puff of smoke as I watched the door open, Sawyer on its other side, wearing clean jeans and a dark blue shirt that played off his emerald eyes. His blonde hair was off to the side, although a bit of it in the front stuck up from whatever gel he’d put into it. His jaw, clean-shaven, looked as smooth as ever.

  “Ash,” Sawyer said, blonde brows furrowing as he checked me out. I must’ve been a sight, for he said, “What’s wrong? I said dinner was for tomorrow—” He made it a point to check out the empty space behind me. “Where’s everyone else?”

  I stared at him for I couldn’t say how long, taking in the slight crookedness of his nose—as if he’d gotten into a fight. Or maybe just fell down while drunk or high. I took in the sparkling depths of his green eyes, the way his shirt pulled tightly against his wide, muscular shoulders. He was everything a man should be, and yet I worried about him like he was a five-year-old incapable of caring for himself.

  I then did something that was so unlike me, I damn well shocked myself almost as much as I did him: I hugged him.

  And then I quickly realized what I was doing, so I pulled myself off him, looked him square in the eyes with what I hoped was a scowl, and said, “Just checking to make sure you were still alive.” I pointed to the door behind him, and to the windows along the front of the house. “Make sure those are locked. Bye.”

  Yeah. Pretty stupid. Definitely lame.

  Hey, I never claimed I was the coolest chick around, but when it came to Sawyer, I felt so inept and useless. It was like, beside him, I was an ugly duckling and he was the cream of the crop, the cool kid, the sexy man, the one who made my insides go haywire.

  I said nothing else as I spun on my heel and started to walk down the stone path to the sidewalk. I made it only halfway before I heard him say “Wait!” As if I was going to stop; he couldn’t get me to stop. Nope.

  But then the bastard ran out and grabbed my hand.

  My hand. Not even my wrist, or my arm.

  My frigging hand.

  The feeling of his hand wrapped around mine sent my mind tumbling in the wrong direction, and I threw a look over my shoulders, meeting his stare. God, he was hot. Just as hot as I remembered him being before. This was why I was weak for Sawyer Salvatore; sometimes, occasionally, he showed just the barest hints of genuine emotion.

  Before, it’d been harder to see, but now? Now the emotion was plain on his face, sitting right there in his crisp, clear eyes.

  I could only imagine what he wanted to say, but I needn’t have worried too much, because it was at that inopportune time that my phone rang. Sawyer and I were silent for a while, his hand sluggishly releasing its hold on mine. I never broke eye contact with him, even as I answered the phone.

  “Hello?” Didn’t look at the caller-ID. Didn’t even glance.

  “Ash,” it was Declan, “what’s going on? Did something happen at the police station? Do you need me to come get you?”

  I said nothing, wishing I could tell Sawyer how I felt. Wishing he could open his mouth and tell me what he was thinking, where his mind was, if he honestly thought this could all work.

  “Do I need to call Ollie? He’s my family’s lawyer—”

  The mention of a lawyer snapped me out of it. “No, no. I’m coming home,” I said. “I’ll explain everything when I get there. I’m on my way now.” This time, I actually told Declan goodbye before hanging up.

  “What’s wrong?” Sawyer asked. He didn’t wear a coat, but he seemed to be completely fine. Maybe that was due to all of his muscles, keeping him warm in the cold air.

  “You didn’t hear about what happened?”

  Sawyer shrugged, an expression of seriousness on his face. “I’ve been thinking about tomorrow. I haven’t really paid attention to anything else—”

  “A grad student was found dead,” I cut in, causing his eyes to widen. “It happened late last night, they think.” An uneasy feeling rose in my gut, and I glanced all around before adding, “I was the last one to see him alive, besides the killer.”

  “Fuck.”


  Fuck didn’t cut it.

  I let out a sigh. “Officer Melendez thinks it’s Ray, but Ray’s gone, which means…”

  “There’s another killer on campus,” Sawyer said.

  “And just like the first, this one’s obsessed with me, too.”

  Sawyer’s gaze narrowed, the intensity in his stare pushing away all doubt in my mind. “You don’t know that for sure. It could’ve been random.”

  “And if it wasn’t?”

  He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he asked, “Was that why you came here—to make sure the killer didn’t get me, too?” In spite of it all, the bastard thought it was a good time to give me a smirk.

  I couldn’t believe him.

  Well, I could, because it was Sawyer and I knew better, but still.

  “Careful,” I warned. “Don’t let your ego get any bigger. I care about a lot of people, you know. I—I just don’t want anyone else to die because of me, okay?” I let out an annoyed grunt before stomping away.

  This time, he let me go.

  Chapter Eleven – Travis

  Ash had a meeting with us. All of us. A fucking meeting like we worked together instead of dated each other. It was kind of ridiculous, but Ash was on high alert after what happened. Oh, yeah, I already knew all about it.

  Word traveled fast when you kept your ear to the ground and knew who to listen to.

  Plus, you know, connections. I had them, my family had them, etcetera.

  Ash, Declan, Will and I were all cramped in their dorm room. Will sat near Ash’s right, while Declan sat on her other side, holding her hand and absentmindedly tracing her knuckles. They were both trying to comfort her, both trying to tell her—convince her—that this wasn’t her fault.

  And it wasn’t.

  Men were not born monsters. They were shaped into them, carved and molded by family and society. A killer was a killer. Ash could not hold herself responsible for something someone else had done, even if, misguidedly, that someone was only trying to keep her attention.

  I leaned on Declan’s bed, my arms crossed, as I watched the two brothers comfort Ash. Or try to, anyways. Whether or not she was truly comforted would be up to her.

  She was strong. She could get through this. She wasn’t weak like Sabrina.

  “I just don’t want any of you guys to get hurt,” Ash spoke, glancing at all of us, lastly at me. Her eyes lingered on me the least, probably because she knew I could take care of myself. I might not have the muscle like Will or Sawyer, but I was smart. I knew how to take any sized opponent down, knew when to wait in the shadows.

  I might not be totally good at listening to orders—one blow my ass, Markus. I should’ve been the one to kill Ray—but that was beside the point.

  “I’m sure we’ll be fine,” I said, earning myself a questioning stare from Declan and a quick glance from Will. Will still didn’t like me, but that was fine, because I wasn’t too particularly fond of him, either.

  The way of the world was this: a well-crafted beast did not sit on the same level as someone who scraped the bottom of the barrel. No one in this room was on my level; the closest was Ash, and even then, she truly had no idea of the things I was capable of.

  She’d turn away in disgust if she’d seen me and how much glee I took in tearing apart Ray’s face, forcing him to die with a smile.

  But I did what was necessary. I did what I had to. I played nice with Declan and Will and Sawyer because I knew I would never truly have Ash otherwise. She’d given us each a piece of her heart, and we in turn gave her ours. It was only fair.

  Only it wasn’t.

  Only someone else wanted her heart. Someone else who couldn’t take the thought of her spending any time with another man, even if said man was a nerdy grad student who could barely tie his own shoelaces.

  Corey Weinberger didn’t deserve to die. You didn’t slaughter people just because you thought they’d get in your way. My family had taught me that, but if Ash’s instincts were right, and if mine were too, the killer had no teachers in the way of hunting.

  Plus, leaving the body to be discovered by whoever stumbled by next? Piss-poor, pathetic work. The killer needed to be careful of his next move, because I was watching. I’d already made the call I had to.

  Will spoke, breaking the silence of the room as he suggested, “Maybe we should cancel the dinner with Sawyer tomorrow.” He ran a hand through his light brown hair, his hazel eyes focused on her.

  Ash shot him a look. “What? No, no, I—” She paused. “It’d probably only put him in more danger.”

  I knew Declan would go along with whatever Ash wanted; it was up to me to stand up to Will, to put my foot down and make sure we all went to that dinner. Will would not get his way—we’d go to that dinner if I had to drag us there. I wasn’t above tying up Declan and Will; I was certain Ash would be into it. She could get kinky.

  “No, we told Sawyer we were coming, so we’re going,” I stated.

  Will glared at me. “You don’t get to decide what we do—”

  “I’m pretty sure we decide it as a group.” To Ash and Declan, I said, “When have you ever known Sawyer to try so hard? Think about it. He’ll be crushed if we cancel this dinner now.” Crushed was not a good word to use to describe Sawyer, but it was what came out.

  “He’s right,” Declan was slow to agree with me, glancing at his brother and Ash. “If anyone gets to decide to cancel this dinner, it should be Sawyer. One of us should call him, tell him what happened, that Ash might be in danger again.”

  “Ash is right here,” Ash spoke in a huff, referring to herself in third person. “And…Ash already went to Sawyer’s house after her trip to the police station, so he already knows about what happened.”

  Will got to his feet, fury written across every feature on his face. “You what? Why would you go to him? That was—”

  “Stupid,” I finished, causing Will to scowl at me. “But it’s not the first time you’ve run to Sawyer.”

  Ash’s stare fell to her lap, and she looked, for the first time in a long while, put in her place. She crossed her legs, still holding onto Declan’s hand. “I had to. After finding out what happened to Corey last night, I had to make sure he was okay.” Her eyes clamped shut. “His throat was cut. One clean sweep. He was just…killed and left there, like whoever did it wanted his body found.”

  That was something I could agree with. This killer wanted us to be aware of his presence.

  The killer could play his game, but so could I. I came from a family of killers for hire, so I knew which gameboard we were on. I knew which moves to make, when to bide my time, and when to strike. I would wait. Now was not the time to make any moves; I had to wait and see what he would do next.

  Ash was safe right now, and that’s all that mattered. Corey had meant nothing to her. He was just a graduate student, for fuck’s sake. Anyone with half a brain would’ve realized he posed no threat. Even the old me wouldn’t have gotten jealous over him.

  Which meant one thing. This killer was a different breed, a type unlike me. Prone to deadly action in fits of emotion. Leaving a body in the open, taking the murder weapon—which I assumed he did, because that was a mistake newbie killers often made, and it usually got them arrested later when the police found the weapon in their custody—it was asinine. Just plain stupid.

  This killer and I had to have a talk. We had to have a heart to heart about what was smart and what was just dumb.

  Killing Corey? Fucking dumb as you could get. Now the police would be on high alert, snooping, watching. If they thought Ray Ruiz was the culprit, if they assumed he was the perpetrator here even though he had breathed his last breath a while ago, they would be ever watchful. Catching a serial killer would put the Hillcrest PD into the national spotlight, even in the history books. Catching the bad guys was why most people went into the police force anyway, and a serial killer? There was no better catch than that.

  No. Whoever killed Corey wasn’t smart. He didn
’t think things over. I couldn’t make a move right now, because I had to wait. Wait and see what he would do next, wait and watch.

  “It’s okay,” Declan spoke, letting go of Ash’s hand only to pull her in for a hug, practically smothering her in his chest. “We don’t blame you for going to check on Sawyer—”

  “I do,” Will spoke, frowning. “Sawyer is—” A look from Declan stopped whatever else was about to come out of his mouth. Will took his time in calming down, and I watched with interest.

  Until lately, Will had always seemed more level-headed than this. A person unskilled in an area like this would probably just assume he was jealous. Not everyone was cut out for what we were, not everyone could share the girl they loved. Hell, I wasn’t sure I was cut out for it, either, but I was doing a better job at it than he was.

  Will…seemed to be unraveling, and I wondered just how entertaining the show would get.

  Did Ash notice it? Did Declan? Did they see the anger lingering in Will’s eyes, even after he calmed himself down? Did they believe him when he said he would be on his best behavior for the dinner with Sawyer tomorrow?

  I knew better. Anyone in my family would know better.

  William Briggs Jr. was a liar.

  Chapter Twelve – Sawyer

  Cooking was, as it turned out, not my strong suit. Another thing that wasn’t my strong suit was apparently grocery shopping. Had to swing by the store early Saturday and buy everything I needed, and I hated it all. Choosing what food looked best, paying attention to expiration dates, standing in lines—ugh, it was fucking miserable. I didn’t know how other people could do it on a semi-weekly basis. It was so much easier to just order the groceries and have them delivered, but I figured if I was trying to be better, I’d try to be better and maybe get a new view of things, like how Ash viewed things.