Vicious Bet: Don't fall in love! (Sinners and Saints Book 1)

by Alice Ann Wonder

  "Now wait a minute! Where are you going?", I ran into him as he reached for my arm, so that he could pull me behind him even faster.

  "Just trust me."

  "Nothing easier than that if your name wasn't Benjamin King," I mumbled.

  At that moment, Benji suddenly pushed me against the wall and struck the wall with his fist just inches away from my face.

  His face was so close to mine that I could feel his warm breath on my skin.

  "Fucking hell, you can trust me," he said and looked me deep into the eyes.

  His nostrils were widened and gushed out the air from his vibrating chest.

  Our eyes merged together.

  "Okay," I replied resolutely.

  Only then did Benji lower his hand.

  "Go!" he instructed me.

  When we sat in Harper Campbell's office a minute later, I was as curious about what Benji had to say as the director of our college.

  "Mr King," Campbell greeted Benji. "Ms Spencer."

  He looked annoyed - no wonder, considering our last visit to him. "What brings you here?"

  Benji unbuttoned the top button of his jacket before leaning back in the chair, staring at the principal.

  "If I were to sit in your chair, the first thing I would do is to remodel this ugly office," he remarked, his gaze wandering from corner to corner.

  Campbell cleared his throat; his eyelid twitched before he replied reservedly, "How fortunate you don't have to bother with that.

  Principal Campbell wore an embroidered hazelnut sweater today.

  "Well," Benji began, looking the principal in the eye. "Not me. But maybe your replacement."

  Campbell's increasingly twitchy eyelid announced that his patience would soon be wearing thin.

  A tic that he and Benji seemed to share.

  "What are you driving at?" growled the principal impatiently.

  "I've heard that you're being grossly negligent in your choice of personnel," Benji noticed and put his ankle down on his thigh. "Regrettable, considering you only have three years left until retirement."

  Campbell's flat hand struck the desk with a loud bang.

  "What the heck are you getting at, King?" he thumped.

  As expected, the sudden burst of anger left Benji cold.

  I held my breath as he replied, "After your new literature professor got too close to dear Ms Spencer here against her will, I had Logan Edwards investigated."

  What was he up to?

  "Unfortunately, this endeavor has been rather difficult. for as it turns out, there is no Logan Edwards who taught literature at a recent university in California."

  Principal Campbell raised his eyebrows.

  "Does the name Frank Moore mean anything to you?"

  Triumphant sparks flew from Benji's blue eyes as he asked Campbell the question.

  "Who is this man?" replied the principal, enraged, and said, "Who is this man?

  "A California professor of literature accused of sexual harassment, stalking and kidnapping a 20-year-old college student named Elaine Kirk. Unfortunately, no arrests were ever made because Professor Moore had disappeared off the face of the earth. Here's a picture. Isn't he gorgeous?"

  Benji pulled a newspaper clipping from the inside pocket of his jacket and laid it on the desk.

  I slid forward a bit, but before I could look at it, Campbell had already reached for it.

  "That's not possible," he muttered repeatedly. "Good God."

  I couldn't sit still any longer and jumped up.

  I hurriedly walked around the desk and looked at the clipping.

  "What?" I gushed out in horror.

  That was definitely Logan Edwards in that mug shot.

  He had a beard and looked a little younger overall, but it was him.

  "Oh, my God," I said.

  "That's right," Benji said happily. "I took the liberty of contacting the local police." He took one look at his shiny Armani watch. "You should be arriving here at any moment. Would you like to see the spectacle? After all, it is your college.

  Benjamin King didn't make the slightest effort to hide his cynicism. On the contrary. He obviously enjoyed pointing out his mistake to Harper Campbell.

  I, however, was still frozen.

  Suddenly it all made sense: why Logan had always called me Ella - an abbreviation of the name Elaine; and why he seemed so familiar; he must have been watching me before the semester started!

  I must have seen him somewhere before. That would explain the strange familiarity I had felt towards him.

  By the time the three of us - especially Principal Campbell - rushed to the lecture hall, the arrest of Logan Edwards, alias Frank Moore, was already in full swing.

  Students stood in the corridors and watched as the professor was handcuffed and taken away.

  The moment we arrived, he was taken away.

  He walked with his head held high and with a diabolical grin on his face that I had never seen before.

  Even in this devastating scenario Frank Moore seemed absolutely confident and as if nothing and nobody in this world could harm him.

  Strangely enough, he reminded me a little of Benji.

  With the only difference that I knew Benjamin King would never hurt a woman - at least not physically.

  Our eyes met as Frank Moore was escorted past me.

  He said something, but I couldn't understand a word because of the noise around us.

  Nevertheless, it ran down my back in ice-cold relief.

  "There's nothing to see here," cried Director Campbell in an authoritarian voice. "Please return to your lecture halls."

  "I heard Melissa Trembley mumbling to Chloe behind me.

  They obviously didn't know what was going on.

  I took Benji aside.

  "Couldn't you have told me this before?" I hissed and released the rough grip on his arm.

  He grinned maliciously.

  "Then it wouldn't have been half as entertaining."

  I gritted my teeth and suppressed a scream of annoyance.

  He practically saved you, admonished my subconscious. Keep calm!

  "You're impossible!" I shook my head.

  At the same time, I wanted to wrap myself around his neck.

  But I held back.

  "You love me, admit it', he noticed unimpressed and put his arm around me.

  I let it happen.

  At that moment I suddenly saw James on the other side of the corridor.

  My heart stopped and forgot a beat.

  He nodded at me. And I nodded back.

  So they passed again, the next few seconds when something could have changed.

  If only I had been brave enough.

  ***

  "To fake professors and first-class private detectives!" Benji called and raised his glass to toast with us.

  After informing Sky, Madox and Rash of the latest events, it was unanimously decided to celebrate my rescue at Strokes that evening.

  I didn't feel like partying at all - especially since the thought that I had almost had sex with an accused felon was still on the tip of my tongue like bitter bile.

  Perhaps karma was at work here too, because of what I had done to Chloe Clarice Bell.

  "Well, I guess that nullifies the bet," Sky said.

  She spoke to me again after the incident, which I was very happy to hear.

  Rash, whose face looked worse than ever after last weekend, agreed with her.

  Our glasses clashed together.

  "Over my dead body," Benji growled and held his glass back.

  Sky looked at him in disgust.

  "Are you serious?"

  Arrowheads shot out of her eyes in his direction.

  "The guy was a stone-cold psychopath! We're lucky Blaire got out of that one in one piece!"

  Benji had a sip of champagne without toasting either of us.

  "Which, of course, she has me to thank for," he replied smugly.

  Sky was about to open her mouth to giv
e him - I was pretty sure - the opinion, when Madox held her by the elbow.

  "Just leave it, it's no use," he tried to calm her down. "Look up Psychopath on Wikipedia," he kept talking and looking at Benji knowingly. "Overconfidence, lack of empathy... excessive risk-taking..." he laughed spitefully. "Is there anything else I'm forgetting?"

  Benji didn't care about his friend's quips.

  "Anyway," he explained and looked around, "since I am the challenger and this bet could not be made for the reasons mentioned, I will come up with something new.

  I rolled my eyes and moaned while Benji seemed extremely pleased with himself and the world.

  "You're a tyrant!" Sky announced and pulled a face.

  Benji acknowledged this by straightening his royal blue handkerchief and looking down at her as if she were a piercing piece of chewing gum stuck under his thousand-dollar shoe.

  "I'm going out for some fresh air," I threw in and put my glass on one of the two high tables.

  The cool night air felt good. There were even a few stars to be seen.

  As I stared up at the sky and reviewed the events of the past days, it dawned on me.

  Life would not wait until I - Blaire Ella Spencer - was ready to realize what I had known since childhood: there was only this one man for me. And as much as I fought it.

  The fear had always seemed too powerful for me to be able to bear another loss of this magnitude.

  But that did not change the fact that I loved him. I always had.

  With trembling fingers I dialled his number - for in all these years I had always made sure that I possessed it.

  In case the day came when I wanted to call him.

  I did not allow myself to think about it again when I pressed the green handset.

  It rang twice. In the middle of the third ringing, he picked up.

  "Yes? Who is it?" I heard him say.

  My heart was pounding violently - as always when it came to him.

  "Can we talk?", I asked in a trembling voice.

  "Is everything all right?"

  "Yes," I assured him, gasping for breath. "I have something to tell you. It's important."

  "Um... OK. Where are you?"

  "Before Strokes. I'm gonna call a cab and I'm gonna come to your place. Are you at home?

  "I'm at home.

  "All right. I'll see you in a little while."

  I hung up in a hurry.

  I guess it was because part of me was afraid there might be something left to object to after all.

  I had to do it now! I'd waited far too long to do it!

  "Ms Spencer?

  Scared, I turned around.

  A woman with brown hair about the same length as mine looked at me kindly.

  "I'm supposed to give you this," she said, passing me a drink.

  I frowned and looked at her irritated.

  "I haven't ordered anything."

  "It's from a secret admirer," she replied and winked at me.

  Then she walked further up the street.

  I looked around in wonder.

  It was a weekday, so there wasn't a lot going on at Strokes.

  The doormen were in the warm vestibule by the wardrobes. As far as I could tell, I was alone in front of the bar at the moment.

  I blinked and tried to peek through the glass doors.

  But there was no one inside looking out at me.

  I turned my gaze back to the drink and suddenly realized it was a Black Russian.

  An icy chill crept up my back.

  Just as I was about to go in, I felt someone holding a cloth in front of my mouth from behind.

  The person pressed it so firmly against my lips that no scream left my throat.

  Then my eyes turned black.

  Because you belong to me

  When I regained consciousness, the first thing I noticed was that I could not move my hands.

  They were tied.

  A few meters away from me, I heard a loud, steady breathing.

  My eyes only gradually cleared up.

  My head was pounding.

  Slowly the outlines became clearer.

  "Sweet Ella, there you are! "I'm sorry I had to drug you. The headache will go away soon."

  In the moonlight, I could make out the outline of Frank Moore's face.

  I looked around in horror. Only now did I realize we were on the water.

  "Let me go, please!" I begged, and suspected at the very moment when I looked into the greedy eyes of the professor that it was in vain.

  "Remember how you rode me here?" he muttered in a deep voice. "You couldn't get enough of me."

  He licked his lips and let his eyes linger over my body.

  "I'm in the mood for a little repetition. You too, Ella?"

  "You're sick!" I screamed and tried with all my might to free myself from the shackles.

  "Don't," Edwards replied as he rowed vigorously. "Don't spoil my fun!"

  His tone was frightening. "We'll finish it here. You and me. For real this time."

  "Please!" he took it away from me again. "You want money? I can get you anything! Anything you need!"

  My attempt to control the situation was pathetic.

  But I didn't know what else to do.

  "I have enough money," Moore returned, and suddenly he stopped rowing.

  "All I want is you."

  He stroked my thigh. I winced when he touched me.

  "I'm gonna get it for you until you scream my name. You belong to me. I'm the only one who can make you happy."

  I tried to squeeze the thighs together, but he already had his hand on my crotch.

  "Help!" I screamed as loud as I could. "I will never be yours! You are vile!"

  Tears came to my eyes as I writhed to escape his touch.

  "You don't mean that," he shouted. "Tell me you do!"

  Frank Moore was now so close to my face that not a leaf could fit between the tips of our noses I turned my head to one side, but he forced me to look at him with a coarse grip on my chin. "Say you want it," he repeated in a whisper. He rubbed his hand against my private parts.

  Without thinking, I spat in his face.

  "No woman in her right mind would ever want a man like you," I yelled.

  His hand hit my face. He hit me harder than I expected.

  "You're wrong!" he shouted at me.

  Then he tampered with my jacket.

  "Help!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

  "Don't bother," Moore whispered and with a rattle pulled down the zipper of my jacket. "We're all alone out here."

  I was paralyzed when I realized I had no chance of escaping him.

  "Blaire!" suddenly echoed a voice from the darkness.

  For a moment, I thought I was dreaming.

  But as Moore spun around and scanned the black lake like a frightened deer, I understood that the cry was real.

  "Blaire!"

  "James! I'm here!"

  "Will you shut up!" Moore yelled and hit me again.

  I couldn't see James getting on our boat because I was sitting with my back to him, but suddenly it started rocking back and forth like crazy.

  All I could see was the knife in Moore's hand just as James threw himself on him.

  I screamed and tried everything to free myself from my bonds while the two men wrestled with each other.

  "You'll regret this, boy!" Moore snarled and started to thrust the knife.

  James managed to duck just in time.

  With a forceful blow to Moore's knee, he managed to shake the professor.

  The boat itself also rocked and in the confusion I realised in horror how Moore hurt James' shoulder with the knife with another attack.

  A sharp scream escaped me, when James Moore thereupon missed a hook to the chin.

  I did everything I could to keep my balance, but I couldn't.

  I plunged into the freezing water.

  "Blaire!" was James' voice.

  I screamed again as loud as I could while
trying to keep myself on the surface.

  "Swim, sweet mermaid," I heard Moore calling out. "I'll get you yet."

  Shadowy, I watched his boat disappear into the darkness.

  I paddled with my feet, tore my tied arms frantically to and fro, and still couldn't keep afloat.

  Just when my strength finally ran out and I was overcome by sheer desperation, I was dragged to the surface by my jacket.

  For what felt like an eternity James swam with me through the icy water until he finally towed me onto a small boat. I was not much help to him, my tied up hands and the boundless panic made me freeze.

  "Blaire," cried James anxiously. "Say something!"

  He took me by the shoulders and shook me.

  I coughed and gasped.

  "You..." I replied, gasping for breath.

  I blinked the drops of water on my eyelids away and saw that his jacket was covered with blood in the shoulder area.

  "You're bleeding," I coughed.

  "That's nothing," James replied and laboriously untied the ropes from my wrists.

  We were in a boat; I had no idea where it suddenly came from.

  Breathing heavily and exhausted, I noticed from the corner of my eye that James was looking for the professor.

  I implored God, the universe and every higher power I could think of at that moment that he had gone away.

  Because by now I knew how dangerous this man was.

  "How did you find me?" I asked in a croaky voice.

  "I was worried when you did not come. There was a news story on the news that Moore was released on bail. They showed a picture of one of his former students he molested. She looked just like you! There was a feeling in me that something was wrong. That's why I tracked your phone.

  He bent over me and put one hand under my head when we were almost at the shore.

  "So you're a sick stalker too," I laughed and had to cough.

  James helped me to sit up before he manoeuvred the boat the last few metres to the beach.

  "Looks like it," he replied and smiled at me.

  Only now did I notice the approaching blue light.

  "Thanks for saving me," I said softly and looked him straight in the eyes.

  He gently stroked my face.

  "Blaire, I -"

  "Ms Spencer"?

  An officer interrupted what James was about to tell me. "Are you all right? Where is Frank Moore?"

  One sorrowful look was all we exchanged before the entire beach was filled with police officers.