by J. L. Beck
My face slackens in shock. She can’t be serious.
“Your father is an arms dealer,” I point out. How in the fucking world has she never held a gun before?
“I wanted to study medicine.” She places the gun on the table in front of her and sags against the wall across from me. Her head is down, her shoulders are slumped, and she looks at the gun like she is about to cry.
Now I’m even more confused. The entire time she has been here, I haven’t seen her cry once. Even with all the shit people have put her through, including me, she hasn’t shed a single tear in front of anyone. She’s always held her head high, yet right now, she looks like she is about to run out crying, and I can’t figure out why. Why now out of all days? More importantly, why do I care?
“I don’t know how to do any of this.”
Shots ring out all around us, but I ignore them as I pick up her gun and load it with the right magazine. “Come here. Stand like this, right foot slightly back, shoulders squared, arms bent. Hold the gun with your right hand, then wrap your left around the bottom like this.”
I show her how to stand before stepping off to the side, handing her the loaded gun. She doesn’t move, simply stares at the gun in my hand for a few more seconds. When she does reach for it, my instinct is to pull away. I’m handing my enemy a loaded gun, after all. Maybe this is a fucking trick? If it is, she deserves a fucking Oscar.
Hesitantly, she grabs the gun and holds it in her hand awkwardly. She takes a stand like I showed her moments ago. Her aim is off, but I let her fire off a few rounds before I correct her. She pulls the trigger, and her whole body jerks from the kickback that she clearly wasn’t ready for.
She steadies herself and shoots the rest of the rounds in the direction of the target. Only five out of the ten rounds actually hit the paper.
“That’s terrible.” Brooks walks up beside us. “Who the fuck taught you how to shoot?”
“Ahh, no one. This is my first time,” Aspen admits, shocking Brooks just as much.
“All right then, you go back to your booth, and I’ll go over everything with her.” He shoos me away, grabs the gun from Aspen’s hands, and starts explaining to her the mechanisms of the gun and the different features.
I move back to my spot, making a mental note to check Brooks out later. He clearly doesn’t know who Aspen is since he’s the only instructor so far who hasn’t treated her like a traitor.
“You going to show me how to shoot now? I could use some help.” Blond Russian girl winks.
“You look like you’re doing just fine,” I say, peeking at her target, which looks a lot like my own. Actually, I’m a little impressed with her marksmanship, but of course, I don’t comment on that.
“Maybe you can give me lessons in something else then?” she asks seductively. This is the second time she’s blatantly hit on me, and just like last time, I ignore it.
I get back to my own guns, firing off the rounds I have, reload, and repeat until I’ve gone through all the weapons and four different targets. Brooks spends most of the class with Aspen, showing her how to handle the array of guns. With each passing minute, I get more irritated, and I don’t really know why.
All I do know is that by the end of the class, I’m ready to punch a hole into Brooks’s face. He walks away and talks about cleaning weapons after lunch. Aspen walks past me, obviously trying to avoid me, but I easily catch up to her.
Grabbing her arm, I pull her into my side and lean down so I can whisper in her ear. “You still owe me an hour.”
She pulls out of my grasp with a huff and storms off as if she can get away from me. Doesn’t she know that will never happen?
22
ASPEN
Paranoia skates down my spine, and every time I walk into my bedroom and close the door, I’m waiting for the second that he comes walking in. Not knowing when Quinton plans to collect on his hour with me has me on edge. That’s a lie, not just on edge, but hanging off a cliff by my fingernails.
I hate having a favor loom over my head, even more, that it’s owed to Q, and I have no say on when he’s going to collect it. Scanning my key card, I enter the bedroom and close the door behind me. I press my back against the wood and let out a long sigh.
I don’t feel one-hundred-percent safe here, not while Quinton has a key card to my room, but I still feel more protected by these four walls than I do in all the time I spend walking the corridors between classes.
I add books to the stack that already exists on my desk and toss myself onto the bed, thankful that I have a mattress now. Damn Q and his bartering. If I wasn’t so weak, I might say no, but a lot of the things he offers help me, and I can’t pass up on a decent bed, food, and most of all, protection.
My computer is sitting on the desk beside the stack of books, and I move to grab it, opening it to check my emails. I don’t know why I bother. It’s not like anyone wants to talk to me. I almost laugh at how pathetic my life is. No friends, no one who truly cares if I’m alive. My parents act like they care, but do they really?
I’m about to close my computer and take a shower when a Skype call from an unknown number comes in. Moving the mouse to the answer button, I pause. Should I answer this call? It could be anyone. Indecision weighs heavily on my shoulders, and as if fate already knows the answer, my finger slips off the key, and I hit answer by accident.
The air in my lungs stills, and my fingers itch to grab the screen of my laptop and close it, but I choose not to at the last second, which also happens to be the same moment my father’s face appears on the screen.
I’m so shocked. All I can do is stare at the screen, wondering how the hell he managed to negotiate a Skype call from prison. On second thought, I don’t even want to know.
“Aspen, it’s nice to see you.” He smiles, and while he still looks like my father—balding head and soft green eyes—the bright orange jumpsuit and weathered look on his face reminds me of all the stress this must be putting on him.
“Hi.” My voice cracks. “How did you…?” I shake my head, “Never mind, I don’t want to know how you managed to call me from inside.” Right away, my defenses are up. If he is calling, it doesn’t mean anything good.
“That doesn’t matter, sweetheart.”
“Is something going on?”
“No, not here. Your mother informed me that you’re having a tough time at Corium. That people are after you.”
“After me would be a very loose statement. They want me dead but can’t find a way to do it without it causing problems.”
“You’re stronger than you think, Aspen, and even if it feels like the walls are crumbling around you, they’re not. There is no safer place for you than inside Corium.”
“It’s literal hell here.”
“Well, in case you need some leverage, I can tell you this…” He looks away from the camera and then back again like he’s trying to determine if someone is listening or watching him. “The answer to his question is Xander.”
Xander? And who’s question? “What are you talking about?” I ask, confused by the riddle.
“You’re smarter than you think, Aspen.”
“Smart has nothing to do with it, Dad. I don’t understand what you’re telling me—”
“I can’t say more than I already have since calls from inside are monitored,” he interrupts.
My lips part, and I’m about to say something else, but then the screen goes dark, and the call ends. Did he really just hang up on me?
I sit there baffled by the conversation, staring at the screen for five minutes before I decide to close it. What could that mean… the answer to his question is Xander. I already know it’s referring to Quinton, but I’m not sure in what sense.
Obviously, my father knows things I don’t, and instead of telling me, he’s speaking in a foreign language, leaving me to figure it out on my own. My frustration toward my mother and father has reached a new height. They both think I’m safe here, but I don’t see it, an
d I certainly don’t feel it. How can they think being hospitalized is safe? I was almost killed for crying out loud. Every day here feels like I’m one second away from being tossed into the pits of hell.
How can I continue forward? How can I make myself as feared as Quinton is? I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I have to find a way to make myself stronger. When Q was teaching me those moves in class, I had never felt so powerful, so in control.
In a lot of ways, it gave me strength that I never had before. Suddenly, I feel cooped up inside this room. Normally, I want to keep myself hidden, protected by these four walls, but I’m being driven to seek out something else.
I grab my key card off the desk, and my eyes catch on the edge of the map. There’s a book covering the majority of it, but in the bottom corner is the map key, and I notice a single word: sunroom.
Shoving the book off the map, I scan a route to the sunroom. I’ll push through a crowd of my enemies for a few moments of sunlight. I’m giddy with excitement when I leave the room. After the conversation I had with my father, this is exactly what I need.
The corridors are congested with students making their way back to the dorms. With my head down, I push through the horde to the elevators. An elevator is already going up with a couple of students in it, so I slide inside and press my back to the wall. The two girls inside exchange glances while the remaining occupant, a guy, pays me no attention. I pretend they don’t exist and ignore their glares.
At least they aren’t saying anything.
The elevator chimes, and I remember then that I forgot to push the button for the sunroom, so when they all step out, and I’m left alone again, I push the “s” button and take a step back, happy once more.
When the elevator chimes again and the doors open, I step out and have to shield my eyes almost immediately. Even though it’s afternoon, the sun is still beating down on the covered sunroom. It’s been a while since I saw the sun this fully.
I notice chairs and tables with little plants are scattered around the room. It’s a cozy vacant space and one that might be my hideaway for when the library isn’t an option. Slowly, I walk deeper into the room and take a seat at one of the tables.
The sun beats down on my skin, and I bask in the vitamin D it’s providing me. Even through the thick glass surrounding me, I can still feel the hot rays. Maybe I’ll be less depressed after this? They say the sun can make you feel rejuvenated. Too bad it can’t get rid of all the assholes at Corium.
No. I tell myself and try not to think about anything else bad while I sit with my eyes closed, soaking up the sun. I’ve already made it this far, and I’m no quitter. After a while, beads of sweat start to form on my forehead, and I know it’s time to return to my dorm as the sun starts to set on the horizon.
I can do this. Things are hard here, but they could be worse. My father—though he didn’t really explain what he meant by it—provided me with leverage. I have no idea what it means, but if I have to use it, I will. The only thing that matters to me is my own sanity. I need to keep myself above water because as soon as I show even the slightest bit of weakness, I’ll draw the students of Corium like sharks to blood in the water.
23
QUINTON
“Look, I did as much digging as I could, but I have to be honest with you,” Sillas says, and I can already tell where this is going.
“If you have nothing for me, then just tell me.” I look him dead in the eyes. His face is emotionless, his eyes bleeding into mine.
“I tried, but whoever covered this up went all out. I can’t find any information on her. It’s almost like the person you’re asking me to find doesn’t exist.” When he says whoever covered this up, he means my father.
My hand involuntarily forms a fist. Again, the answers I seek are just out of my grasp. I wish my father wasn’t such an asshole and would tell me the truth about what happened to her, but I get the feeling even if he did, I wouldn’t like the answer. Knowing the man he is today, I can’t imagine he was any kinder before I came along.
“So that’s it, there’s nothing more you can do?”
Sillas glances down the corridor, which is mostly empty, before looking back at me. “Just because I couldn’t find anything doesn’t mean it can’t be found. It just means my reach isn’t as far. There’s someone else, someone better who can help you, though.”
Great, now we’re bringing other people into it.
“I don’t want to involve anyone else,” I growl. I’m tempted to walk away and find another way. I mean, what good is he if he can’t help me?
“Look, she’s the best of the best, and you don’t have to go far at all because she’s a teacher here.”
I lift a brow. “You’ve got my attention. Tell me more.”
“The librarian. If you want answers, she is the person to go to.”
Shit. That’s kind of the last person I want to go to, but if it gets me the answers I want, then I’ll do it. I run a hand through my hair, contemplating how I’m going to do this. Her impression of me is already skewed because of that one night in the corridor.
I wonder if Aspen told her anything. She probably didn’t. Aspen is many things, but she isn’t stupid, and she wouldn’t dare bring more attention to herself. But even if she didn’t tell her, that doesn’t mean she hasn’t already made her own assumptions about me.
“I’m going to go talk to her now,” I announce, shoving off the wall.
“All right, but just so you know, I don’t know what her price will be, or if she’ll even do anything. I just know if you want to find something that doesn’t seem to exist, she can find it for you.”
I nod, not bothering to tell him that I’ll pay whatever her price is. Even if she says she doesn’t want to help me, I’ll find a way to get her to fall in line.
Everyone has a weakness, even if they don’t act like it.
“Tell Ren I went to work out. I don’t want him following me.”
“Sure,” Sillas says, and I give him a head nod as I walk away and down the corridor.
Ren’s been acting strange, and part of me wonders if he’s reporting back to my father about my activities here. I don’t think he would. Ren’s not like that, and he doesn’t have anything to do with my father. I think about all of this as I walk to the library, and as soon as I reach the spot where Brittney found Aspen and me that night, my thoughts change.
My cock grows hard at the reminder of how afraid and weak Aspen looked. I need to see her like that again. I need to have her at my mercy, willing to do anything I tell her to do. I crave her complete submission and thrive off the pleasure it gives me. I’m like an addict when it comes to controlling Aspen, and I never want to stop.
Passing the spot where I had her trapped against the wall, I continue walking until I reach the entrance to the library. I stop in my tracks, surprised by how open and airy the space feels. I won’t lie, I expected something dark—a dungeon with books that smell like dust and mildew. Not this bright room with huge windows and rows upon rows of books.
Laughter fills the room, and I continue walking, following it around a corner until I spot Aspen and Brittney standing between bookshelves, each of them with a book in their hand. As soon as Aspen sees me, she places the book on the shelf and stalks toward me.
She’s scowling at me, and she tosses her blond hair over her shoulder, revealing the soft slope of her throat. A throat I want to grab ahold of and wrap my fingers around.
“You can’t be here,” she whisper-yells, tossing a glance over her shoulder at Brittney. I give her a dazzling smile and wave at her. Aspen shoves at my shoulder, and a bolt of lightning zaps through me at her touch. “What the hell are you doing?”
I play stupid and look around the massive room. “What do you mean? This is a library. All students are welcome here.”
Aspen shakes her head. “Nope, not you.”
The smile slips off my face. I don’t like how pushy she is about getting me to leave. It hits me the
n that it might be easier to go through Aspen to get to Brittney, which means I need to suck it up and strike some type of deal with her because I’m not going to stay out of the library when it’s free to any student who wants to use it.
“It sounds like you might want to negotiate some type of deal.”
Aspen peers up at me, blinking slowly. “I don’t want to do any type of negotiating with you. Any deal I make with you is a loss for me.”
I shrug. “It’s not my fault your negotiating skills are shitty.”
She rolls her eyes and takes a step closer to me. I can feel the heat of her body rolling off her and slamming into me. A light floral scent invades my senses, and the nearness of her body makes my cock rock hard. It reminds me that she still owes me an hour. I won’t lie. I love having her in my debt.
“Please, Quinton. This is the only place in the entire university where I feel safe. Where I can be myself. Don’t ruin that for me, please.” Her voice takes on a slight edge, and I don’t like the way the sound slices through me, making me feel a sliver of remorse.
I can’t feel bad for her, even if none of this is her fault.
“That sounds like a you problem.”
“Quinton,” she whispers my name and then looks over her shoulder at Brittney, who is putting books away but still watching us out of the corner of her eye.
I lean into her face, and fire ignites deep in my belly as her pulse jumps, her pink tongue darting out over her bottom lip. “Say my name like that one more time, and I will have you on your knees with my cock in your mouth.”
“Q, I’m serious.”
“So am I.” I grin devilishly.
“There has to be something you want more than tormenting me.”
I almost laugh. “You don’t want to know the things I want from you, Aspen. It would make your nightmares look like fairy tales.”
Fear flashes over her eyes, but she quickly covers it up with an offer. “Fine, you can have another hour on top of the one I already owe you.” She makes air quotation marks around the word owe. “Technically, I didn’t agree to that deal in the first place. You just brought me stuff and demanded an hour.”
