Ruthless: A Dark College Romance (Somerset University Book 1)

by Ruby Vincent

  Leighton went through the items on her mental list. She finished with the fun stuff.

  “Pledging is over, but we still do bonding activities.” She gestured at her second-in-command. “Let Reagan and me know if you want to join us on our run. Also, we’re having a movie night on Friday to celebrate surviving the first week. It’s exclusively horror movies featuring coeds.”

  That earned a few chuckles.

  “Can’t handle the blood and gore, then join us on Saturday. We’re taking over the Sam house pool and their grill.”

  Leighton looked at me. “You can bring anyone along. Adam is more than welcome.”

  “Oh... uh... thank you,” I got out.

  She smiled and then moved on.

  Confusion rooted like a seed and spread deeper through my opinion of Leighton. The girl who dismissed the pledges sobbing on their knees was at odds with the one I laughed with on the road to the ranch. She was at odds with the one smiling warmly and making an effort to include my son.

  Can she be both people?

  Sofia nudged me. “Want to do the movie or the pool?”

  I shook my head. “Horror movies aren’t my thing and”—I lowered my voice—“I’m steering clear of Aiden Connelly.”

  “Can’t blame you.”

  “All right, sisters,” said Leighton. “Let’s help these girls move the rest of their stuff in.”

  “Ready, Sofia?” Reagan asked.

  “Yes, I’m ready.”

  “Go on ahead,” I said. “I’ll catch up.”

  The girls streamed out of the room. I hopped in the wake of one and followed her out. Leighton didn’t notice me behind her on the staircase. I waited until she topped the landing.

  “Leighton?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  “Sure.” She motioned to the double doors at the opposite end of the hall. “In my room.”

  I’d never seen Leighton’s bedroom. Stepping inside, I knew why.

  My eyes widened as far as they could go. “What is this magical place?” I breathed.

  “You crack me up, Val,” she said, laughing.

  Leighton’s bedroom was a decorator’s dream. I think she told the interior designer to go wild and this is what they came up with. The draped ceiling sported metallic rings that glittered when she turned on the light. A beautiful feature but not nearly as impressive as the fish tank headboard hovering over her bed. Multicolored fish drifted lazily through the water, waiting for their chance to lull Leighton to sleep.

  Across from her bed, a hammock chair suspended from the ceiling, loaded down with squashy pillows and blankets. I ran up to it and something caught my eye.

  Light peeked out of the closet, revealing my find. My nosy self threw the door open.

  I gasped. “Oh my gosh. You turned your closet into a library.”

  Shelves took up the space where clothes should be. On the floor were pillows and blankets for Leighton to get comfortable.

  “I have more books than clothes, so it seemed to me they deserved the space.”

  “This room is incredible,” I said. “Did you hide it from us so we wouldn’t drop dead from envy?”

  She chuckled. “I didn’t hide. You just never asked to see it.”

  “Good point.” I plopped down on the hammock chair. “It pays to be Madame President.”

  Leighton pulled out her desk chair and took a seat. “I didn’t get this for being president. I paid for the upgrades myself. I’ll also have to take them out when I leave.”

  “Really? How are you going to move the fish tank?”

  She snorted. “By paying someone else to do it.”

  I laughed before I could stop myself. Something drew me to her—compelled me. But I did not like this woman. Why did I continually need that reminder?

  She’s got good taste if nothing else. But these upgrades couldn’t have been cheap. I wonder what her family does.

  I scanned the room again, looking for something specific.

  “I don’t see any photos of your family,” I remarked. I don’t see photos at all.

  “That’s right,” Leighton said. “And is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “No, it’s not.” I grew serious quickly. “I want to talk about the initiation.”

  Leighton got out of her chair. “We agreed never to talk about it again.”

  “You agreed. I want to talk about it.”

  “No.” She made for the door.

  I intercepted her, plastering myself against the wood. “Yes.”

  She raised a brow. I couldn’t be sure but the quirk of her lips seemed to say she was amused.

  “Why did you write that on my card?” I demanded.

  Leighton lifted her shoulders. “Why do you think?”

  “How did you know? You couldn’t have hacked me. Maverick made sure of that.”

  She said nothing and irritation strangled the bit of good feeling I had toward her.

  “I’m not playing games with you,” I said through gritted teeth. “This isn’t some stupid sister blood pact. This is my life. Why do you think I killed someone?”

  Leighton stood immovable. She didn’t twitch, blink, or move her lips.

  “Did you go to the prison?” I pressed.

  “Why would I go to a prison?”

  “Then what?”

  She heaved a sigh. “Valentina, move out of the way, please. I said please.”

  “Why won’t you talk to me?”

  “I won’t talk to you or anyone. How I get my information is a presidential secret.” She winked. “If you want to know, you’ll have to take over Zeta Rho Sigma.”

  Humming, I bobbed my head. “That sounds like a huge, steamy pile of shit.”

  Leighton barked a laugh. “It does, doesn’t it? But there it is.” She took a step forward like she meant to go through me.

  “Tell me this,” I said. “What did you mean when you said you wanted me from the beginning?”

  “Are you serious? I told you that from the beginning too. You’re everything the Sallys stand for.” She grasped my arms. “All those girls downstairs try to be what you already are. A true Sally.” The glint in her eye unnerved me. I stepped back and her grip tightened. “If a gunman threatened this campus, you’d do whatever it took to stop him.”

  I gently, but firmly, removed her hands. “You can’t know that. Sally Hollenbeck was an incredibly brave young woman and honoring her with this house is the least the school could do. But we’re not her and no one could predict what they’d do in that situation.”

  Leighton’s expression did not change. “I know what you would do.”

  This conversation had taken such a turn, I wasn’t certain what to say.

  “You’re strong, Valentina,” she continued. “You’d have to be to survive what you have survived and to do the things that you’ve done.”

  I stiffened. She was hinting at something. Why won’t she just come out and say it?

  She flapped a hand. “That initiation never applied to you. If anyone understands loyalty, it’s you. You’re a Sally now, Val. Like you were meant to be.” She took another step. “Have I answered your question?”

  I nodded. Once.

  Leighton flicked her wrist. “Out of my way.”

  I stepped to the side without a fight.

  “Feel free to hang out in here,” she said. “The hammock is like being rocked to sleep in your mother’s arms. You’ll pass out in minutes.”

  She smiled and there she was again—the Leighton I knew and liked. She shut the door, leaving me alone in her captivating palace, more confused than ever.

  Chapter Nine

  Valentina

  “I have anthropology and statistics today,” I said. “My last class gets out at six. Why?”

  “Come over to the Sally house, have dinner with me, and then you can keep me company at the stand,” said Sofia.

  “Why?” I repeated.

 
“Because you’ve been weird since I caught you walking out of Leighton’s room the other day. And you’ve been even weirder around her. Let’s hang out tonight and talk. We’ll have our privacy at the stand.”

  I slid the phone down to my chest. I can’t talk about what was on that card and I don’t know where to begin with the conversation Leighton and I had after my failed interrogation. There’s nothing I can say, Sofia.

  I put my cell back to my ear. “Okay. I’ll come over after class.”

  “Go over where?” Jaxson peered at me from my lap. “What’s up, baby?”

  “I’m going to meet up with Sofia for dinner,” I replied as I set my phone aside. “You can tell Chef not to make anything for me.”

  Thursday, and the near end of my first week of classes, arrived quickly. It saw me with two chapters worth of anthropology homework and a day off for Jaxson. He picked Adam up early from school and I pushed my reading assignment onto the weekend to-do list. The three of us were in the sitting room spending time together.

  The sitting room was smaller than our main living room, but had plenty of space to act as Adam’s second playroom. The boys moved his robot, basketball hoop, fire engine, train set, and mini Mercedes Benz in here after Christmas.

  Adam zipped around the couch thanks to Jaxson’s expert handling of the car’s remote. His giggles were as loud as the music blasting from the car’s MP3 player.

  A soft smile cracked my anxiety. “You guys know you spoil him rotten, right?”

  “Says the lady who got him fifteen of his twenty-four Christmas presents.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  I poked his cheek. “Hush. It’s different because I say it is.”

  He laughed. “How long do I have you?”

  “Class is at three. I’m all yours for two more hours.”

  “We’ll have to think of a way to pass the time,” he replied, complete with waggling eyebrows.

  “You mean by giving Adam his bath and putting him down for a nap?” I teased.

  “I meant what comes after that.”

  “Oh. Yes, we can definitely pass the time with that activity.”

  Two and a half hours later, I was in class writing furiously as my professor zipped through the slides. My cell vibrated all through the lesson but I didn’t dare check it and miss half the information that would be on my midterm. That’s what Professor Stokes promised. The slides were basically our test.

  After I got out, I unlocked my phone to a flood of messages from Sofia.

  Sofia: I’m making dinner tonight. Me. All by myself.

  Sofia: If you want to stop me, you have five seconds to speak up.

  Sofia: Five

  Sofia: Four

  Sofia: Three

  Sofia: Two

  Sofia: One

  Sofia: Too late! Get ready for garlic shrimp, mushroom pasta, and roasted veggies.

  Sofia: Just so you know, I haven’t learned how to cook any of this stuff.

  I was stuck between laughing out loud and crying. A life of personal chefs did not prepare Sofia for cooking for herself. She had a few infamous disasters in the kitchen that she force-fed me. From then on, she was ordered not to make more than cereal until she got lessons.

  Me: Why do you do these things to me? I’m supposed to be your best friend.

  Her reply came back quickly.

  Sofia: LOL. And as my best friend, you’ll be my guinea pig. I’m moving up from sandwiches and making Daddy dinner Saturday night.

  Me: And if I die from poisoning, you’ll know to call it off.

  Sofia: Exactly.

  I rolled my eyes but marched to my fate all the same.

  Sofia was in the kitchen when I arrived, standing over a smoking pot.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “The pasta.”

  “Shouldn’t it be boiling, not smoking?”

  “Should it?”

  I snatched the serving spoon off the counter and brandished it at her. “Step away from the stove now.”

  Howling, Sofia put up her hands and slowly stepped back. I took over the cooking. It was fun showing her how to prepare the food properly. Our aromas wafting out of the kitchen brought Keily, Blair, and Palmer in.

  I smirked at them. “You don’t have to ask. I made plenty.”

  Palmer kissed me on the cheek. “Valentina Moon, you’re an angel descended from the heavens. Keily and I were two seconds away from eating the stale pizza from the back of the fridge.”

  The five of us talking and laughing around the dining table felt like our brunch dates. Awkwardness hung in the air, but with them I was more than happy not to speak of that night again.

  After dinner, they helped us carry the stand and food to Sofia’s spot.

  “I’m glad we’re still friends,” Sofia said after they left. “Even Blair.”

  I chuckled. “Have you ever noticed we do that? Say ‘even Blair’ when we talk about them.”

  “I have noticed that, yes.”

  A chill permeated the January air. The Sallys chose their menu with warm thoughts and a block of chocolate in mind. We had Irish mocha brownies, hot chocolate, hot tea, fudge cookies, mini chocolate cakes, cheesecake, chocolate chip cookies, ginger cookies, and more.

  Sofia and I sat back and waited for the money to pour in.

  “Now that I have you to myself,” Sofia began. “What happened with you and Leighton the other day?”

  “She’s just really intense, Sof. If you heard her going on about me being just like Sally Hollenbeck, you’d understand. I don’t get what she wants from me.”

  “What could she want from you? We’re college students trying to get through the next three and a half years. That’s it.”

  I shrugged. “Let’s change the subject. How is your dad doing?” A grin stole over my face. “Is his heart healthy enough for sex yet?”

  “Go away,” she deadpanned. “We’re not friends anymore.”

  I laughed so hard, I cried. “Five years,” I wheezed. “We had a good run.”

  Sofia eventually forgave me and we passed the first hour selling treats to almost everyone who passed by.

  “It thins out after nine,” Sofia said. “People are inside doing their homework and getting out of the cold.”

  “Then we can chill. Let’s finish that movie we were watching.”

  Sofia pulled out her phone and we huddled together in front of her screen.

  She was right. The next half an hour we only had two people walk by the stand. We watched our movie with hardly any other interruptions but me.

  “But that doesn’t make any sense,” I said. “If he killed her, who got in the car and drove away?”

  “He must have—”

  “Excuse me?”

  A guy in a black sweater and matching beanie waved at us. “You still open?”

  “Yep,” said Sofia. “What would you like?”

  “The ginger cookies and hot chocolate, please.”

  Sofia put his cookies in a baggie while I poured the cocoa. He thanked us and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill.

  He smiled sheepishly. “It’s all I got. Do you have change?”

  Sofia stuck her head under the table to peek at the cash box. “Yes, we’ve got change.”

  “Great.”

  They exchanged money and he walked off, waving bye with his cookie bag.

  “Have a good night.”

  “You too,” Sofia called.

  “Do we have any change left?” I asked.

  “Nope. None.” She picked up the cash box. “I’ll run to the Sally house and get more. Be right back.”

  “Okay.”

  Sofia disappeared down the path to the Sally house. I picked up her phone and went back to watching.

  I’ll fill Sof in on the rest. Besides, this isn’t as good as I—

  A hand clamped over my mouth.

  The reflex to scream hadn’t struck before more hands seized me and yanked me out
of the chair. I kicked out and connected with the wood. The stand upended. It fell to the pavement in an ear-splitting crash. I hit the ground hard, pain reverberating in the base of my spine. Rough fingers tangled in my hair and wrenched me back.

  I looked up into their eyes... and screamed.

  Five black-masked figures surrounded me. Fear living and unending blotted out my mind.

  The figures took hold of my limbs and hauled me up. They ran, carrying me away from the stand. My butt swept against the ground and collected dirt and leaves in the lining of my pants.

  I thrashed—pulling and kicking in their hold. The hand over my face clamped down so hard my lips smashed into my teeth. I flailed and metallic liquid filled my mouth.

  They suddenly stopped and I fought harder.

  “Argh!” I shrieked. “Hmh hmm!”

  Sofia! Where are you?!

  A rattling noise I didn’t understand clanged behind me. The next thing I knew, I was flying into darkness. I struck the floor and agony exploded in my skull. The pain dazed me. Lights danced before my vision.

  “Close the door,” a voice hissed. “If someone heard the crash, they’ll come running.”

  “Keep her quiet.”

  The light intensified and I winced. It wasn’t from the pain; it was from them. Their phone flashlights swept the space. Green, wooden slats revealed themselves. Hanging from the walls were metal items that glinted in the beams.

  I squinted through the gloom. The figures beneath their black jackets and the muffled, gravelly voices told me they were men. This barely had a chance to register when a boot came down next to my head.

  The guys grabbed my collar and forced me up. The fabric tore as he pinned me to his body and wrapped his arm around my head, covering my mouth. A stale, nauseating smell of pine and sweat invaded my nose. My hands flew up and pounded them. They clamped harder in punishment. I forced my jaw apart and bit down.

  “Argh!”

  My captor wrenched me to the side and my face struck a hard, unforgiving surface. My jaw slackened in a haze of pain.

  “Careful!” one of them shouted.

  “Get her hands.”

  Grips like iron bound my wrists and pulled them away from my silent captor.

  “What do we do with her?” one of them asked. I couldn’t tell whose mouth moved through the masks and dim light. “We were supposed to grab the other one. Richards.”