Killer: A Dark College Romance (Hillcrest University Book 5)

by Candace Wondrak

  “I took care of them” was all Travis said.

  “The police asked if I knew why Brooklyn was missing pieces of her,” I told him. At the time, I hadn’t been lying when I said I had no idea. But now, if they asked again…I’d be a liar, and I really, really wanted to stop lying. “They’re probably going to ask again. If the plan works this weekend, I’ve already decided I’m going back there and telling them that I did see Ray once, a few years ago. If they can pin everything on him, then…maybe they’ll leave me alone.”

  The Hillcrest police department was probably seeing more high-profile cases than they were used to. Ray and his victims, the Dean…I did not want to add myself to that list, call me selfish.

  “We’re going to do everything we can for you,” Travis told me, stepping towards me. A hand found my waist, pulling me in, holding me against his chest. My head was already angled back, and before I knew it, his lips crashed down to mine, swallowing up anything else I might’ve said.

  All of my worries, all of my problems, vanished the moment his rough lips touched mine. Travis would devour me if I’d let him. He would take every single part of me and keep me locked away if I gave him the go-ahead. He wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met, and I did wonder if every person in his family held such deep obsessions.

  Travis pulled his lips off mine far too soon, giving me a heavy, longing look. His blue eyes darted to the window, and he let out a sigh as he released me. “Looks like Will is leaving. You should see him out.”

  I knew he and Will didn’t get along—Travis hardly got along with anyone—but he knew I cared for Will, so he said it for me.

  Untangling myself from him, I turned and headed back into the house. The heat from the house instantly warmed me up, my goosebumps disappearing and my shivering stopping. My feet were still a bit cold, but in time, they’d warm up, too.

  Will stood near the couch, and he was busy talking as Declan got to his feet, “I think we’re just going to have to agree to disagree. You don’t think Dad is capable of doing anything wrong, but I do, and I know the police wouldn’t just investigate him randomly, out of the blue. Whatever they’re looking for, it’s big.”

  Declan was clearly still on the Dean’s side, saying, “It’s Dad, Will. We’ve known him our whole lives. I think we would both know if something was up with him—”

  A strange, exasperated sound left Will. “Declan, you of all people should know that sometimes even the ones closest to you can lie.” His hazel eyes moved to Travis, who’d walked inside the house behind me.

  What could Declan say to that? What could he do besides close his eyes and shake his head as if he thought his brother was wrong? I knew, though, Will wasn’t wrong. We were all liars here, one way or another. As much as I didn’t want to keep the truth from Declan, it was better that way. He could not find out about what Travis did, but the note…I’d tell him about the note next week, after Ray was—fingers crossed—gone.

  Will left, telling us he’d text us when he got back to his place. I walked with him to the front door, seeing him off, watching him get in his car and drive away.

  It pained me to see the brothers at odds like this. A part of me never thought I’d see a day like this, where Declan and Will stood on opposite sides of the line.

  With a heavy heart, I returned to the guys. Still in the kitchen, leaning his massive arms on the counter, Lincoln spoke, “Well, that was all very fucking dramatic.” I hadn’t even noticed Markus had left before Will; it was only when Lincoln spoke that I saw. To Travis he added, “I don’t know how you deal with all of this shit, Travis. I’m tired of it already, and I haven’t even been here the whole time.”

  If I thought Travis wore an annoyed expression when he looked at Will, it turned downright murderous when he glanced at Lincoln. Still upset over what Lincoln had told me earlier, apparently. With all the other shit going on, I’d temporarily forgotten that I was prime college girl prey.

  But then I remembered, and then I felt just a bit more uncomfortable while in Lincoln’s presence. Did I look like the perfect prey to Travis? Was that how Travis would look at people after he joined his family’s business? I didn’t want Travis to be like them, but I knew it was beyond me to change it, to change him. He would do whatever his family demanded, and I…

  I’d probably end up losing him. A terrible thought, and a sobering one at that. I knew it was a selfish thought, and I wasn’t sure how the hell it would work once we were in the real world—AKA, once we were out of Hillcrest and graduated—but I wanted us to remain together. I didn’t want to lose anyone.

  If only I knew then how wrong I was.

  Chapter Ten – Ash

  My high tops were tied a bit too tight, but I dared not stop walking to undo them and then re-tie them. I wore a thin jacket, zipped up to my chest, helping me keep my inner warmth to myself as I walked along. Jeans, too. These ones weren’t ripped at all. They were my nice jeans. My beanie sat on my head, stopping my hair from blowing around too much.

  Hands shoved in my pockets, my phone in my right hand just in case, I couldn’t stop worrying as I made the long trek. I knew where to go, when to turn, when to go straight and cross the roads. We’d practiced this—not by me actually walking the path, but by telling me where to go, ingraining it in my head. By having me look at maps and memorize every little detail.

  Lincoln and Markus had drilled it into my head, over and over, what I had to do. How I had to act if he showed up, if he was following me on this night. He might not. I might have to make this trek again and again, each and every night until Ray came to me, and they were able to get him while I had him distracted.

  The first night yielded nothing, the second night much the same. The third night…the third night was when results were had.

  My path took me through the rich houses near Hillcrest’s campus, and then away from it. It was a long walk, nearly a half-hour, but I knew I was being watched by more than one person. One shadowed me on foot, the other two in a car. If Ray came out tonight, they wouldn’t let me have too much time alone with him.

  After twenty-five minutes of walking, I eventually made it to the more industrialized part of town, where the big department stores were. It was after closing hours, the moon already midway in the dark, starry sky, so the parking lots were empty. Empty, barren, and chilly beyond all belief.

  Or maybe that was just me, because I knew where I was going, because I’d walked there two nights already and had seen the remnants of that night. The police didn’t clean it, nor did the coroners. Cleaning up the scene was not their responsibility, and as it turned out, blood stained a bit.

  So yeah. Brooklyn’s blood was still there, still smeared on the pavement, even though it had rained since then, even though it’d been a while since that awful, terrible, horrible night. Felt like I hadn’t slept well in ages, and I knew I would continue to get no sleep for as long as Ray was out there.

  Even then, even after he was gone, there was no telling that I would. Watching Brooklyn get torn apart was the most horrific thing I’d ever seen in my life. The goriest, the most gruesome. All that red…seeing her organs sprawled outside of her body—you didn’t forget a sight like that. A sight like that was burned in your memory from its sheer brutality.

  The moment I made it to the parking lot where it happened, I slowed my pace. My fingers held onto my phone in my pocket, as if it could save me. My phone couldn’t do shit. I couldn’t do shit. Ray…I just needed this chapter of my life to be over with.

  I walked to the same light pole that Brooklyn had been chained to, my feet practically dragging as I neared it. Even though it was dark, even though the lights were dim on the poles, I could still see the dark maroon on the pavement. My eyes studied the light pole. The concrete circle beneath the pole was also stained, and I heaved a sigh.

  Okay, it was more like a shaky breath, but it was kind of a sigh. A sigh because this was the place where a girl had lost her life because of me. Sure, she’d t
ried to kill me, but seeing her get torn apart was…worse, somehow. Brooklyn might’ve been psychotic, she might’ve hit me with her fucking car and tried to have me raped, but…

  Oh, fuck. Who was I trying to kid? Deep down, I was glad that girl was dead, happy that she’d gotten her comeuppance. Maybe that was why I felt so bad about her death now, why I had nightmares of her. I felt guilty for being secretly happy that she was gone, for believing the world to be a better place without her in it.

  I was a bad person for having those thoughts, wasn’t I?

  I moved to the other side of the blood-stained pole, sinking to my feet and leaning my back against its clean side. I angled my head up, staring at the starry sky, wondering if there was any other girl out there in a similar situation. Was I the only fucked-up one? Was it just me, stuck in a loop of never-ending psychos and killers? Would my life ever get better?

  At this point, I was seriously starting to wonder.

  Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes, letting the chilly air envelope me as the wind blew by. I was alone in the parking lot, no cars nearby. Hardly any drove on the road too, since it was so late.

  Though I knew I should be focusing on the thing at hand, on Ray and listening to the quiet air around me, my mind found itself wandering to the blonde-haired, green-eyed boy I felt like I hadn’t seen in ages.

  Sawyer.

  Was he sitting in his bed, in rehab, staring up at the same night sky? Did he ever think of me, or had he found some chick he could occupy his time with while he was there? The thought of Sawyer with someone else made me upset, angry, and a whole lot jealous. He wasn’t mine. We weren’t together, but…

  But I loved that fuckup all the same.

  I knew it didn’t make sense, but hardly anything in my life made sense right now. I was past the point where I wanted everything to make perfect sense; me and sense were pretty much strangers right now. It sucked.

  It was as I was lost in my mind that I heard a car’s engine approaching, and I peeked open my eyes to see an unfamiliar car rolling up. A boring, small white car that honestly blended in almost too well. It wasn’t the rich and fancy type of car you’d see in Hillcrest; more akin to the kinds of cars I saw back at home.

  I was measured in getting to my feet the moment the driver’s door opened and the man of the year himself stepped out. Ray Ruiz looked like he hadn’t showered or shaved in a while, but even though he was dirty and gruff, I still found him handsome. Handsome in a middle-aged way, handsome in a way that should be off-limits to me.

  God, a part of me still cared for him, even after knowing what he did, even after seeing it for myself. The Midtown Strangler and his obsession: me.

  My initial instinct was to run away, but I knew I couldn’t. I knew that I had to keep him busy, keep him talking. Get him away from that car so he couldn’t hop back in and drive off. And, above all else, stay alive while doing it.

  Yeah. Staying alive was the key to all of this.

  “Ray,” I spoke his name, beating him to the punch. He was too busy staring at me, still holding onto the car door, his hazel eyes narrowed at me as if he thought this was some trick. It was, but the punchline wasn’t coming quite yet. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “I can see that,” Ray spoke. Though we were ten feet apart, I could see his jaw clenching, as if he had to stop himself from calling me amorcito. Maybe he’d finally realized that I would never truly be his.

  “No amorcito?” I spoke, repeating the word but butchering its pronunciation. It had always been his favorite pet name for me. He’d called me that since the beginning of our twisted tale. When he said nothing, I took a step forward. Just one. “I’ve missed you, Ray.”

  His fingers tightening on the door of the car. “Why do I think you’re lying to me, Ash?”

  I didn’t step towards him and his car again; this time I stepped away from the light pole, further away from the light. If he wanted me, he’d either have to shoot me or come after me. He’d have to leave his location next to his running car. “Maybe because you lied to me so much you’re afraid that I’m turning the tables.”

  Ray shook his head, a harsh sigh escaping him. “I never lied to you, amorcito.”

  There it was. My way in.

  I was ten feet away from his car on the other side of it, further in the darkness of the parking lot when I said, “Then what would you call all of those girls, Ray? What would you call what you tried to do in that basement?”

  Ray was slow to move around his car. If I had to guess, I’d say he dumped the other one since it belonged to the two corpses the police had found in the back of the car. Traded off or stole a new one. He was not a perfect criminal, but he did his best.

  “I tried to help you see my side of things,” Ray said. “I wanted us to be together in everything. I was showing you who I really was—” He lifted a tanned arm, gesturing to the side. He meant the cabin, not here. Not now.

  Since he was now closer to me than his car, I allowed myself to take a step closer to him, tilting my head slowly. “Can I ask you something, Ray? And be honest. I don’t want any more lies.”

  “Anything.” Ray must’ve thought this was me deciding to go with him, because he was almost too eager.

  “When did you first start killing? Was it before you met me, or was it after?” I knew it was probably a dumb question to ask, mostly because whatever answer he gave me wouldn’t make me feel any better. He was still a killer. Sixteen girls had lost their lives to him in the same ritualistic way, not counting Brooklyn, the older couple, and whoever else had been so unfortunate as to be on the wrong end of his wrath or his needs.

  No. A question like that wouldn’t come with a nice, heart-warming answer.

  Ray was quiet for a while, and I noticed, through the darkness, Lincoln creeping towards Ray’s car. Step by step, not making a single sound. Ray’s back was to him, so he didn’t see. I did, though, but I kept a straight face. I would not be the one who blew this plan to hell.

  The car was not the primary target, though. Ray was.

  “Why do you want to know this?” Ray asked, moving closer to me, trying to reach for me, but I pulled back.

  I instantly took a step back, shaking my head. “Answer the question. I need to know.” I needed to know if I was to blame for every single death on his hands. If, somehow, something about me had set him off and made him done crazy, stupid things. Those murderous things.

  “I’ve thought about killing my whole life,” Ray whispered, his face darkening as he tilted it in the shadows. Lincoln had made it to Ray’s car, one of his gloved hands in his pockets. “But it wasn’t until that night in the bar, when I met you, that the urge overwhelmed me.”

  The world swayed around me, and I could hardly stay steady on my feet.

  It was true, then.

  I was the reason Ray killed those girls. I was the breaking point, the match that lit the trail already laid down in his mind. I was the reason all of those girls were dead.

  Too much weight to put on shoulders as thin as mine.

  “The first was messy, but I eventually got a routine,” Ray went on. Lincoln had rounded the car, pulled out a syringe from his pocket. “Everyone thinks there were only sixteen, but there were more.”

  My breath was knocked out of me. It was as if Ray had punched me in the gut, hard and fast. Those words fell upon my ears like nails on a chalkboard. I didn’t want to listen, but neither could I plug my ears and pretend I didn’t hear it. “How many more?”

  Ray smiled a slow, precariously dangerous smile, and he opened his mouth to answer, but it didn’t matter. Lincoln was behind him. Lincoln had the syringe ready to go, and he wasn’t going to wait for Ray’s answer before injecting his neck from behind, Dexter-style.

  Ray tried to say something, whirling on Lincoln, but it was too late. Whatever drugs were in that syringe were already in his system, almost immediately putting Ray off-balance. I took a step back, watching with wide eyes as Ray stumbled to
the ground, even though he was trying to attack Lincoln.

  “A new boyfriend,” Ray said, or at least I thought that’s what he said. His words were slurred, and his eyes rolled back into his skull, his head colliding with the pavement.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I whispered, though I knew Ray could not hear me. I glanced to Lincoln, the man already having the syringe back in his pocket, tucked away safely. “Why couldn’t you wait two more seconds?” I was a little ticked off, not to mention surprised that this whole thing worked.

  A car from the road that had been idling nearby turned into the parking lot, heading straight for us while Lincoln’s dark stare met mine. He knelt beside Ray, checking his pulse. Black leather gloves sat on his hands, and he looked completely at ease after doing what he did. “Trust me, Blondie, I did you a favor. You wouldn’t have liked his answer, no matter what it would’ve been.”

  That…that might’ve been true, but it wasn’t Lincoln’s decision to make. It was mine. So what if I was torturing myself needlessly with the knowledge? I had every right to know how many other girls were out there in undiscovered graves, decaying and rotting, because Ray had killed them—because of me.

  The other car pulled up, and Markus got out of the driver’s seat. It was his fancy sports car, and Travis scooted to sit behind the wheel as Markus opened the trunk of the white car Ray had. He then went to help Lincoln hoist Ray up and move him to the trunk, slamming the door hard. In spite of what we were doing, he still wore a suit. I didn’t think Markus owned any other clothes.

  “Go on,” Markus said. “Unless you’ve changed your mind and want to watch?” Markus smiled a perfect, handsome smile that I knew deceived everyone he met. “Or join in?”

  When I thought of Ray, I wanted to vomit. I knew Ray wouldn’t last long in the hands of these professional psychos; there was no way I could go. No way I could watch. With how Brooklyn’s death had affected me…I didn’t want to add onto my nightmares. I wanted Ray dead, and though a tiny part of me wanted to see it, the bigger part of me just wanted to wash my hands and be done with this.