Brutal Protector: A Dark College Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Westforde College Book 2)

by Serena Lyons

  “I don’t understand, why would my killing Millie be so believable?”

  “That’s a tale as old as time isn’t it? Kane and Abel. Romulus and Remus. Blood Brothers.”

  All the examples he gave are related. “But we’re not…” My voice peters out as he starts laughing at me. Memories start piecing together, parts of a puzzle I’d never even thought of before. The weird look Callum gave Gran after reading Lord Charrington’s will. The way he brought up my parentage. Gran’s words on the phone last night, the thing she should have told me years ago.

  “Oh Faith, I thought you supposed be smart to get into Oxford? You never figured it out.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense…” I can’t keep the shake out of my voice. Millie and I are related?

  “Why do you think mother could never get rid of your Grandmother as out cook? She hated having you lot around, but that was the deal they struck.”

  I don’t answer him, my mind whirring through all the possibilities. All the examples he gave are siblings. “Your father…?”

  “He always had a soft spot for pretty little things. Your mother ticked every box for him.”

  I bite the inside of my lip, forcing myself not to be react.

  “I don’t see why that would be sufficient motive for me to… hurt Millie then try to kill you. It doesn’t make any sense.” I try to remember what Callum said about the will, something about “All children” getting a small codicil. “And I would get something in the will.

  “Revenge stupid. An eye for an eye. A death for death. A fake death for a fake death…” He raises his eyebrows an evil, goading smile on his face.

  “But Mam died of an accidental overdose…” The words splutter out of me. “It wasn’t an overdose?”

  “Oh it was an overdose alright, but it wasn’t an accident. Mama knew Papa and your mother were planning a wild party weekend in London so she snuck in to our pied-à-terre and switched out Papa’s usual stash of drugs for some harder stuff. I’m a little unclear whether she was trying to target your Mum, Papa or both of them in one fell swoop. But your Mum got there first and was already dead by the time Papa turned up.”

  Mam didn’t die of her own stupidity? Guilt hits me like a brick. Ever since I was old enough to know what happened to her, I’ve railed against her in my head. Calling her stupid, selfish, a terrible daughter and a terrible mother. But really she was a victim just like Millie?

  Then my mind whirrs a little more, and a terrible realisation hits me. “Gran knew about this? And she worked for you family, for your mother?” Betrayal winds me.

  “Of course not, Mama’s not stupid enough to admit that. All your grandmother knew who your father was and where your mother died. She wanted some money for your upbringing. He suggested the cook arrangement, he was worried if he gave her a single payment she’d blow it all on something frivolous and just keep coming back for more. Mother hated having her around the house of course, but she couldn’t exactly tell him why.”

  “So he didn’t know either?” I don’t know why, but I’m not sure I could cope if he did. “How did you find out then?”

  “Mama was stupid enough to tell her therapist. Patient confidentiality and all that. She didn’t know I was hidden outside the servant’s entrance for all of their sessions. It was all quite illuminating. How worried they were that I was a psycho just because I threatened a few of the boys at school. Why Papa decided to leave the lions share of everything to sweet and perfect little Millie. Then the big news, how my own Mama was a murderer. I guess the apple doesn’t fall that far from the tree after all.” He grins like he’s just told a joke.

  “So what’s your grand plan? How are you going to convince everyone it was me who did it?”

  He laughs and reaches into a battered leather briefcase. “Funny you should ask, I was just about to get you to write your suicide note confessing all. You could say Millie inspired me with her letter to you.”

  “My suicide note? So you’re…” I can’t finish my sentence. It shouldn’t come as a shock that he’s planning to kill me, but ice grips my insides. I need to start planning a way out, and fast.

  “I’ll let the actual method be a surprise.” He laughs again. “Don’t worry, it’ll all be over very quickly, I’m not really a psychopath.”

  He places a pad of unlined paper and a biro in front of me. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

  “What do you want me to say?” I stall for time trying to think up a plan while he talks. I can’t escape with my legs bound like this. I could reach for my pen knife and maybe stab him, but the odds don’t seem in my favour. He’d see me moving and I doubt I’d get a savage enough strike to knock him out while I untied myself. I should save that surprise for later, presumably he’s going to have to take me somewhere for the “Suicide” to look realistic.

  “You need to say you’re overwhelmed by guilt for what you did to Millie. That you found out what Mama did and wanted revenge. So you went for a Shakespearean style of revenge that only she would understand.” He giggles at that.

  “How would I have found out what your mother did to mine though?” His idea makes sense apart from this inconsistency. “And more importantly, why are you throwing your mother under the bus?”

  “Chop, chop, we haven’t got all afternoon.”

  I start writing, wondering how to infuse my words with as many inconsistencies and questions as possible, so that anyone reading it has to ask questions.

  “Just start already.”

  I pick up the pen then pause, who should I address it to? If I was really writing a goodbye letter, it would be to Gran, but I can’t believe that these are my final words. I start with ‘To whom it may concern’, then start writing Phillip’s crazy tale out.

  He paces along the gap between the dining table and the wall, sighing like he’s the one in mortal danger. He always was a complete weirdo.

  A phone starts ringing, muffled so it must be in another room in this house.

  Phillip stops walking. “I’m going to get that, I’ll be back in twenty seconds. Don’t even think about trying to do anything silly.” Then he rushes out of the room.

  Twenty seconds? I don’t have time to cut through the ropes holding my legs, but there must be something I can do.

  I scribble the sentence ‘this is all a lie, Phillip Charrington is forcing me to write this, he killed Millie’ then lightly scribble over it with lighter loops. If his plan does work, hopefully the police will look at my ‘suicide note’ closely enough and see this message.

  He storms back into the room just after I’ve finished scribbling over it and I breathe a sigh of relief. I immediately launch into a sentence about how sorry I am.

  “What the hell is that mess?”

  “Sorry, I made a spelling mistake and screwed up the sentence.”

  “Start again.” His voice is stern. “I’m not using that messy shit.” He rips it off the writing pad, crumples it up into a ball and throws it across the room.

  Damn.

  I start writing again, trying to make my voice sound as unlike me as possible. Is there any other way I can leave a message?

  “Oh, and say somewhere that you have to jump. A bit of a spoiler for you, I’m afraid, but it will add that extra ‘je ne se quois’ to the note.”

  My hand stops moving. He’s going to push me off something? That doesn’t sound like a painless death. As soon as my legs are free, he’s going

  Perhaps I made a mistake. Her death has always haunted me. I couldn’t let it go unpunished. Like the bible says; an eye for an eye. Let God be our judge. I can only hope justice is finally found. Please forgive the perpetrator. Don’t judge me. I was the innocent victim. D IT.

  The first letter of each sentence spells out: ‘PHILLIP DID IT’.

  “Done,” I tell him trying to sound as meek as possible so he doesn’t search for any hidden meaning in my note.

  “Let me see it.” He thrusts out his hand and I pass him the letter.<
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  A slow smile creeps on to his face as he reads it. “I must say you have an excellent line in sounding crazy, Faith. Full marks.” He looks at me like he expects me to thank him for the compliment.

  “Come on, it’s time for us to get going.” Phillip says. His smile is so chilling that I want to close my eyes. “The final act should be the most fun. Well for me at least.”

  “Are we going to the car?”

  “Yes, no one’s ever going to know you were here.”

  “Well then you need to untie my legs.” As I speak, I quickly grab the pen-knife. This might be my only opportunity; I need to attack him when he moves close to bind me. And I need to make it count; I can’t be soft, only his eyes or his jugular will stop him.

  “Oh, I’m not that stupid Faith.” He lunges forward before I have a chance to flip the blade out, something plastic flashing in his hand.

  I don’t notice the needle until it pricks my skin. The liquid is icy cold as it seeps into my veins. “What…” I try to ask him what it is, but within seconds my lips stop responding to what my brain is telling them to do. I start to slump forward, then everything goes black.

  47: Callum

  “Where the fuck are you?” I bark down the phone, I’m too angry to play it cool with Rafe.

  “Cal?” His voice shakes. “What’s going on?”

  “Where are you?”

  “I, er, I..” There’s a distinctive chime in the background as he fumbles for an answer I now don’t need him to tell me. The church bells give it all away. I hang up on him. I’m not giving him time to run.

  I race for the door, Nina and Axel chasing after me, Axel picks up a crumpled shirt and slips it on as they follow me down the stairs.

  “Where are you going?” Nina pants as I push open the door into the quad.

  “I know where he is. The bells gave it away. He’s in the library. Hurry up.” I don’t stop moving as I explain, but keep my pace slow enough for Nina to hear. Then as soon as I’m finished, I accelerate into a proper sprint. She’ll find me.

  The corridors are busy with all the diligent science students returning from their afternoons in the lab, but I don’t slow down for them. No one complains when I brush against them, or at least they fall quiet when they realise who just elbowed them out of the way. No matter how much Faith judges me, there’re definite advantages of being a big man on campus as she mockingly calls me.

  The main quad is relatively quiet, so it’s easy to spot the familiar person rushing out of the library.

  “Rafe!” I yell, then hurtle across the grass, ignoring the wrought-iron ‘keep off’ signs. He freezes, then jerks his head from side to side like a stupid deer trying to escape a predator.

  There’s no way he’s going to escape me.

  “Where is she?”

  “Who’s she?” The stutter in his voice is pathetic.

  “Don’t play pretend, the game is up. Where’s Faith?”

  I’m almost at him now, and he curls in on himself like he knows he’s in danger. He is. Lots of fucking danger.

  “I don’t, I—”

  He stops lying as soon as I grab him by the throat, and press him against the rough stone wall. I’m vaguely aware of some gasps behind me, but I don’t turn to look. I simply move my eyes closer to Rafe’s weasily face. “I’ll ask you one more time where is Faith?”

  “I don’t—”

  My fist connects with his nose before he can get the rest of the lie out. His cartilage crunches and I shake out my hand. I hit him hard enough to hurt myself.

  “Cal!” Nina’s voice is high with concern, but I don’t let go of Rafe. Scarlet drips are running down his face and tears well in his eyes. Good.

  “There’s not enough time to play nicely.” I glance at her over my shoulder. “Faith might not have much more time.”

  Nina pales, then nods.

  I turn back to Rafe who’s whimpering like a pathetic child. “Are you going to tell me where she is? Don’t bother lying, we know you’re involved in all this.”

  He looks up at the sky. “I’m not, I—”

  I punch his cheekbone this time and he sags in my hold as the full weight of my punch seems to take some of the fight out of him.

  “You’re not making this easy for yourself. Would you rather I got the police to question you?”

  He looks up, blood flowing from his nose and filling his mouth. “They don’t care, you said as much yourself yesterday.” There’s a smug note of triumph in his voice.

  “That was before we had our star witness here.” I look back over my shoulder at Nina. “It wasn’t the wisest idea kidnapping my sister and then my girlfriend. There goes your golden future. Your parents are going to be pretty disappointed.”

  He swallows deeply and slumps down on himself.

  “But if you help us, no one else ever needs to find out.”

  Behind me, Nina gasps, but I don’t turn to her. I need Rafe to talk. I’ll tell him anything to find out where Faith is. More fool him if he’s stupid enough o believe me. There’s no way I’m letting him get away with this.

  “What do you mean?” He asks.

  “I mean you can just carry on with your gilded life. Place all the blame on your little partner—” Rafe twitches and pales— “And you can just carry on as normal.”

  His head jerks up and his pathetically pale eyes find mine. “You promise?”

  “Of course.” I lie. “If Faith’s okay, that’s all that matters.”

  “Fine,” he breathes out heavily. “What do you want to know?”

  “Give me your phone.”

  He fingers his pocket, but doesn’t pull it out.

  “Now.” I snap.

  His hand shakes as he pulls it out and hands it to me. I snatch it from him before he changes his mind.

  “Open it.” I hold the phone in front of him. He’s still trembling as he presses his thumb down.

  It flashes as it unlocks and I yank it back towards me. All the calls before mine are from the same name: Phillip.

  “Millie’s brother?” My mind whirrs as I try to remember him as more than just the lanky, slightly awkward guy who sometimes dropped her off places. “That’s who’s behind all of this?”

  Rafe nods silently. Part of me wants to ask him how the hell he got caught up with Phillip, and why, but that’s not the critical issue right now. Finding Faith is.

  “Where is he keeping her?” I step closer to Rafe, knowing my height and muscle advantage will send a message he can’t ignore.

  “I don’t know, I—.”

  Nina interrupts him before I can. “He’s lying. It must have been him who drove me back earlier. He must know.”

  “Are you lying to me?” I move so close than my mouth is inches away from his eye. “You won’t want to be alive if I find out you lied to me about this.” I swing back my fist and then Axel joins me on the other side, pinning Rafe in.

  His eyes swing between us, looking petrified. “Okay, I’ll take you, if you promise not to tell them I was involved. I know where the house is.”

  “Don’t even think about running.” I grab hold of his arm and Axel takes the other side. “We will catch you and this pain will feel like a vacation.”

  Rafe nods and bends his head as we frogmarch him to my car. If he’s trying to save himself from prying eyes, it’s not going well; everyone in the quad is frozen like a spell has been cast on them and gawping at the four of us.

  “Open the boot.” I tell Nina, then bundle Rafe into it. There’d be enough room for him in the backseat next to Axel, but scum like him doesn’t deserve a comfy ride.

  “Postcode?” I ask him when he’s lying down, Axel pinning him in place.

  “It’s on my google maps with a star, just outside Bicester.”

  I nod then slam the boot shut.

  I turn to face Nina and Axel. “Are you both coming?”

  “There’s no way you’re facing this crazy alone,” Axel says his face taut with tension.r />
  “Don’t you think we should call the police?” Nina looks over at me, her eyes wide with fear.

  “We can try, but they don’t believe us about any of this.” I realise that Nina might not be feeling strong enough to face her abductor. “You can stay here and call them if you want?”

  “No, I’m coming. Good things don’t happen when you leave me behind.” She manages a weak smile and I wink at her. It might take a little while, but I think she’s going to recover just fine. Assuming we save Faith that is. Otherwise, I’m not sure either of us will ever recover.

  Forty minutes from Oxford, google maps announces that we are two hundred meters away from our destination. Nina tried the same number for the police as earlier, but they just reissued the warning about wasting police time. Even when she said she was recording the call and would share it with the press to show how appalling Oxford Police Service’s victim support is.

  “You ready, mate?” I find Axel’s eyes in the rear-view mirror.

  He nods, grimly, like a soldier readying himself for battle.

  “You stay in the car,” I tell Nina.

  “What? No way, I’m coming in. I—”

  “Stay in the driver’s seat. We might need to make a quick getaway.” It’s not the real reason—there’s no way I’m putting my baby sister in anymore danger—but it could be handy to have a speedy exit assured.

  Nina opens her mouth as if she’s about to argue some more, then nods.

  I pull up when google says we still have one hundred metres to go. Nina looks at me, a question in her eyes.

  “I don’t want to announce we’re here.” I say before jumping out of the car and throwing open the boot.

  Rafe twists to look at me, his eyes wide with fear. His face is a mess of crusted blood and what looks like tears, but I don’t give a damn. He’s so fucking pathetic. He transported Nina like this, and probably Faith too. He deserves to know what it feels like.

  “What should we expect in there?”

  “Not much,” he gulps deeply. “Phil’s been living here for the last few months. It’s one of the family’s properties that nobody’s used for years. He had… er… Nina in the dining room, blindfolded and tied to the chair, so I imagine that’s… where he’s keeping Faith. The window is boarded up and the door has a lock.”