by Cathryn Fox
“I didn’t…” Flustered at his accusations, and the way this is all going down, I set my backpack down, and pull in a flustered breath. “This has nothing to do with Tyler,” I say, and it’s a half-truth. Caleb and I hadn’t connected the way I wanted us too. There was no spark, no little flutterings of the heart or little explosions that made my pulse beat faster. Those things only materialized when around Tyler. “But I came here tonight to talk about us.”
He steps up to me, and grabs me by the arm, hard. My entire body tightens, and I try to pull away, but his grip is tight, his fingers biting into my skin hard enough to leave bruises. He twists my arm, and I struggle. I’ve taken self-defense lessons, but from the way he’s holding me, it’s clear he knows plenty of moves himself. Underneath his impeccable suit, he’s a fighter.
“Let go,” I say, my voice firm, the way I was taught in self-defense class. What the hell does he think he’s doing? I struggle against him, but my efforts prove futile.
“Us, huh? What exactly is it you want to say about us?” he demands, and squeezes harder, everything about him radiating danger.
I take a quick, fueling breath as he towers over me, six feet of intimating male. I might have taken self-defense classes, but Caleb is strong, and he’s got a good solid hold on me, so I don’t want to make any rash movements. My heart is pounding so hard in my ears, I’m sure he can hear it, but I calm myself, biding my time. Since I don’t want this to turn violent, my first instinct is to talk myself out of the situation so I chose my words carefully. “I don’t think I’m the right girl for you. I’m just not ready for anything serious, or any kind of relationship.”
He makes a sound, a half laugh, half snort. His once soft eyes turn hard, almost menacing, and his mouth thins, his lips a milky shade of white as he stands over me, his nostrils flaring. My mind races back to Tyler’s warnings, and every instinct in my gut is screaming at me to get out of there, but he won’t let me go. I decide to change tactics.
“It’s not you, Caleb. You seem like you’re ready to settle down, and I’m just not ready for that.”
“Oh it’s me, all right. Here I thought you were a nice girl.” A dark threatening laugh rumbles from the depths of his throat. “You sure had me fooled.” He holds me pinned in his crosshairs as my mind races, searching for a way out of this. “You should have told me you liked it rough and dirty with convicted felons,” he says, his breath hot and sour as his ugly words fall over me. “Yeah, that’s right. I asked around about him.” A pause and then, “I can give you rough, and dirty, Sara. Oh, believe me, I can give you that, and then some.”
He grabs my shoulders, and shoves me against the wall, then pushes his pelvis against me. I feel his arousal, and a sound catches in my throat. His eyes, black as the night sky, compliments of dilated pupils, narrow to thin slits, something dark and deadly seething beneath the surface.
With my back poker straight, and my skin prickling in warning, I steel myself against the threat. How could I have not seen this side of him? Tyler had, though. He’d warned me.
It takes a criminal to know one.
“Is this how your gangbanger treats you? Like you’re one of his old ladies he can fuck when he wants, how he wants, and wherever the fuck he wants?” The look in his eyes is beyond frightening, but I try to keep the situation under control.
“Caleb. Tyler and I are friends.” My insides twist, all hope of ending this without violence sinking inside me. “It’s not like that.”
“Friends who fuck.” His words are soft, but the anger behind them is most obvious. He drags the back of his hand down my cheek until he reaches my neck. His fingers curl around my throat and when they tighten, my stomach recoils.
“Let me go, Caleb,” I say as calmly as possible, when I’m so close to breaking down in front of him, but I don’t want him to see that. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “We’ll just forget we ever knew each other, and this didn’t happen.”
“Nah, I’d rather fuck you.”
Fear clogs my throat, making it hard to talk. “Caleb—”
“Come on.” He pushes his pelvis against me again and when he tears at my sweater, I swallow a cry. “Stop pretending that you don’t want this.”
As the situation escalates, my self-preservation instincts kick in. His grip is so tight, flight is out of the question, which means the only way I’m going to get out of this classroom with my life is to fight.
But how can I possibly win?
11
Tyler
Where the hell is Sara?
I sit on my bike and watch the bus she usually takes stop, pick up a few passengers, and take off again. What the hell is taking her so long? I crinkle the note in my hand and glance at the front doors of the main campus for the millionth time, waiting for her to come out. Had her class run late? I steal a glance around, and another minute ticks by.
Okay, fuck this.
I climb off my bike, and hurry across the street. I take the stairs two at a time. I have no idea where her classroom is. I only know it’s in the main campus building where the library is housed. I wander the quiet halls on the first floor, my heavy bike boots echoing around me. I need to explain to her what she saw tonight. When she took off, she had a look of horror on her face. I’d wanted to go after her, but I needed to hear what Deacon’s man, the punk-ass kid who’d been following me—to ensure he was giving the right man the information—had to say.
I continue down the hall and, through the little door window, peer into the classrooms. The lights are out in most and the doors are locked. I continue down and when I reach the end, I go up to the second floor. The heavy stairwell door slams behind me, but the sound is soon drowned out by a woman’s scream.
Sara.
I hear a loud growl, following by a hard bang, and my steps turn into a full on run.
Motherfucker.
I see a light on in a classroom, and look through the window, and my heart jumps into my throat at the sight before me. I practically kick open the door and rush inside. “Sara,” I say and bolt to her, my breath coming in ragged bursts as her sweater hangs open, her bra exposed.
“Tyler,” she cries out and sags forward, bracing her hands on her knees as she takes deep gulping breaths. “Thank God you’re here,” she chokes out.
I look her over quickly. “Are you hurt?”
She shakes her head no, but it’s a lie. She’s convulsing, heaving, like she’s going to be sick. I pull her away from the wall, tuck her safely behind me and glare at the man writhing in agony on the floor, cupping his balls like they’d just been kicked into his mouth. It takes everything I have not to finish the job, but Sara is shaking and that’s not what she needs from me right now. I give a silent prayer of thanks that the self-defense lessons paid off.
“I didn’t know,” she says, her voice trembling, her breaths coming in hard, ragged gasps. “I didn’t know,” she keeps repeating.
With Caleb no longer a threat, I turn to her. “You couldn’t have known,” I say, and her frightened look rakes over me, leaves me raw, icy inside.
Her cold, shaky hands dip under my jacket, curl in my t-shirt. “Tyler,” she says, a deep gulping cry catching in her throat.
“It’s okay, Sara. I’m here. He’s not going to hurt you. Ever again.”
“I want to go.”
I open my jacket and tuck her inside. Her head lies against my chest, and her tears fall harder, soaking through my shirt. “We can’t go. We have to call the police.”
She gives a hard shake of her head, and glances up at me, her eyes wide. “No. I…this isn’t my life, Tyler. I don’t talk to the police.”
“Sara, please.” I reach into my pocket, pull out the crinkled piece of paper and smooth it out. “I dug up information on Caleb. It’s all here. I never trusted the guy and there’s good reason for that.”
She inches back a bit, and looks over the paper. Her eyes widen as she reads about the complaints filed against him while
teaching at Harvard. From what Deacon’s source dug up, the douchebag’s parents had a lot of pull, and hushed everything up. Then they had him transferred to UIC, where he was supposed to become an upstanding citizen and keep his hands off his students.
Well, fuck that. This time his victim isn’t some young girl who can be paid off or hushed. I’ll personally see to it.
“I didn’t know,” she murmurs again.
“The information was buried, Sara.” Jesus fuck, I hate seeing her like this. I glance over my shoulder and see Caleb making his way to his knees. My hands are shaking with the need to punch the fuck out of him. But I resist. My main priority right now is to get Sara to safety and call the police. “There was no way you could know.” I walk her toward the door, and guide her into the hall. I use my body to block the entrance because no fucking way is Caleb going anywhere—unless he’s in handcuffs.
“You did, though, Tyler. You knew.” Her eyes are as big as peaches as she looks up at me, and she doesn’t need to speak for me to know what she’s thinking—I knew Caleb was a danger because I’m a convicted felon. What is that old saying? It takes a thief to catch a thief. Yeah, that’s the one.
“Wait, if the information was buried, how did you get it?” she asks.
“Sara,” I say, and pull her against me as Caleb mumbles curses behind me. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You got it illegally,” she says quietly, under her breath. “That boy in the library, that’s what the meeting was all about wasn’t it?”
“Deacon had some of his guys do a little digging.”
“Deacon?”
“A guy who kept me alive in prison.” With Caleb moving, I grab my phone and force the issue. “We need to call the police.”
“Tyler, I can’t.”
“Sara, I understand. Believe me. But we can’t let this douchebag get away with this. Not again. We can’t let him hurt someone else.” She goes silent, like she’s mulling it over.
“I don’t want the attention. My parents…the publicity. Not again, Tyler.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from it.”
“What about you, your job? Could this affect—”
“This isn’t about me, it’s about you and I won’t let anything happen to you.” I run my hands through her hair and hold her to me, but my heart is racing as Caleb pulls himself together behind us. Jesus, she must have given him one good hard kick to the nut sack for him to be down so long.
“Okay,” she says quietly, putting her trust in me when I have no right to ask for it. But the truth is, I’d give my life to protect those I love. I’d fucking kill for Sara.
I slide my finger across my phone and punch in 911 as I hold her to me. The dispatcher answers, and I give her the details and our location. When I’m done, the sound of Caleb’s shoes on the floor gains my attention.
“Get the fuck out of my way,” Caleb says from behind me and when I angle my head to see him, Sara stiffens in my arms. Caleb takes a step toward me, his actions threatening.
“Cops are on the way,” I say, turning to him fully as I keep my voice low, controlled, intimidating. “And you’re fucking lucky that you’re dealing with them and not me.”
He glances around the room like he’s searching for a way out. But the only way out is through me or the window. He’d have more chances of surviving the two-story fall.
When he realizes he has nowhere to go, he hardens himself, and says, “Oh yeah and what are you going to do?”
I secure Sara behind me, and turn to face him straight on. I can be an intimidating fucker when I want. I glare at him, and he falters a little under my stare. For eight long years, violence had been my life. This little douchebag doesn’t faze me at all. I’ll snap him like a fucking twig, then light him on fire.
I calm myself before my anger takes over. Fighting isn’t conducive to my plan to keep out of prison, and if I’m locked away again, I can’t be here for Sara. “Another place, another time, and you won’t get off so easily.”
He scoffs, but from his body language, it’s clear he understands my threat is real.
“It’s not what you think,” he says.
“It’s exactly what I think. Now shut the fuck up before I shut your mouth for you.”
He rakes his hands through his hair and paces, making his way to the window and back to his desk. “Look,” he begins again.
“I’m not interested in what you have to say, asshole. Tell it to the cops.”
The shrill of sirens puncture the night, and Sara hugs me tighter. I back her away from the door when boots herald the arrival of two officers, a male and female, their faces stern, emotionless. They look us both over, take in Sara’s ripped shirt. I cover her up and gesture with a nod to the classroom.
“He attacked her,” I say to the guy.
The cop nods and steps into the classroom while the woman stays outside with us.
“I want to leave,” Sara says.
“I can take your statement here, or downtown,” the female officer says, her voice softening as she takes in the situation.
“I think I just need to get her out of this building,” I say, and the cop nods like she fully understands. I nod toward the classroom again. “Would you mind grabbing her coat and bag.” I don’t want to leave her alone and I don’t want her stepping foot in the classroom again.
The officer grabs Sara’s things, and I help her into her coat, then gather her into my arms. The cop follows us as I lead Sara to the stairwell. She sags against me as I hold her tight and guide her down and out into the night. She folds her arms around herself to ward off the chill and I zip her coat up.
The officer begins to ask questions, and hot rage rockets through me as Sara answers, her voice shaking. It takes everything in me not to go back up those stairs and beat the living fuck out of that asshole. As we stand there, the rumble of bikes reach my ears and I turn toward the sound as the Phantoms slowly make their way down the street toward us. I glare, and they glare back.
“You know those guys?” the cops asks, deep suspicion in her voice.
“No,” I say, but get the feeling that I’m going to know them, real soon. I’m suspecting all these coincidental drive-bys are anything but coincidental.
“Then you should probably stop glaring at them like that.” It’s good advice and I should take it, but I don’t want the fuckers to think they can intimidate me or my family in my own neighborhood. I’m not that innocent nineteen-year-old who walked a mile the other way to avoid a run-in with them.
The cop comes out with Caleb, who has his hands cuffed. Good. The leader of the Phantoms slows on the street right in front of us, braces his boots on the ground, and folds his arms across his barrel chest as he takes in the incident, unafraid of the cops.
Sara moves in closer to me as Caleb is led to the police cruiser and put in the back. I tuck her against me so she doesn’t have to look at him, then tell the officer what I learned about Caleb’s time at Harvard. Once our statements are taken, the female officer joins her partner in the car and flick their lights back on. The Phantoms’ leader revs his bike and takes off, his gangbangers following close behind, their eyes all on us. The fucker better not start anything with my family or me. I’m here to get my life together and stay out of trouble, but I’m suspecting that’s going to be harder than I thought.
By the time everyone is gone, and we’re alone in the night, she’s so shaken up, I don’t want to leave her, but it’s cold out and I’m not so sure the back of my bike is the right place for her right now. I zip her coat up to her chin, and lift her collar.
“Do you want me to grab you an Uber, or do you want to ride on the back with me?”
She grips my coat like she’s afraid to be away from me. “I want to ride with you.”
“Okay.” I guide her to my bike and I’m about to fit her with my spare helmet when she holds her hand out to stop me. “Second thoughts?”
“I think I need to call home. Word travels
fast in this town, and I don’t want my parents to find out about this from someone else.”
I nod, and she reaches into her bag to produce her phone. She sniffs as she calls, and her eyes meet mine and hold as she waits for someone to pick up. I can only imagine how shaken up this is going to make her parents. They wanted her out of this city as much as I did. The only reason she’s still here is because of me and the guilt from that eats at me like a thousand angry ants.
“Hey kiddo,” her father says when he answers. The volume is up high, allowing me to hear both ends of the conversation.
“Dad,” she says, her voice shaky.
“What is it, Sara?” he asks, alarm in his voice.
She glances at me, and I stiffen, waiting for the shit storm about to hit when her father finds out she’s with me.
“I’m okay,” she says quietly.
A pause and then, “Where are you?”
“I’m…I’m outside of the campus. There was an incident.”
“I’ll be right there.”
She shakes her head and her hair falls over her shoulder. “I’m okay. I’m with Tyler.”
“Jesus, Sara. If he—”
“No Dad, it’s not like that. You remember Caleb.”
“Yeah, the nice professor. What’s going on, Sara?”
“Turns out he’s not so nice. Tyler warned me about him, but I…” Her voice falls off, and she takes a gulping breath.
“What did he do?”
“He attacked me.” Her face pales as she speaks the horror. “But I’m okay. I fought him off, and then Tyler showed up.”
Her father curses, and my heart trips up. If I had a daughter, I wouldn’t want her on these streets either. But it wasn’t the streets where she was attacked; it was on campus, where she’s supposed to be safe. Nowhere is fucking safe anymore.
“I need to see you,” her father says.
“No, Dad. I’m okay,” she says alarm in her tone. “I gave my statement to the police, and Tyler is taking me home.”
