“Dr. Evans has agreed to prepare you for the exam,” he said. “He’s an old friend of Zaid’s.”
“Yipee,” I said. Dr. Nate Evans had seemed like a dick the first time I had gone to Club Hades. But he was someone who had a reputation, like me. Some of the Afterglow members hated him more than anyone, even threatening to kick him out of the group, until Dean died, and their focus shifted to me.
I rolled my eyes. “All hail the abductor. Thank you, dearest Zaid, for paying for my education.” Grant’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t forget you, dearest Grant.Thank you,my humble bodyguard. Thank you for not killing me, and instead, bestowing your fortunes and helping me get to college. Finally. My dream came true.”
He ignored my quips. I had expected at least a sigh, but there was nothing. The man was a fortress of stoicism. He gestured at the building next to us. “The humanities department is in there. We can look at the directory—”
“Or you can let me figure it out on my own,” I interrupted.
His forehead wrinkled. An inkling of worry perked its head in my stomach. The stalker. They could be here, taking pictures. But I couldn’t think about that. I had to focus on my freedom, on convincing Grant that it was okay to leave me by myself. It was hard for him to let go of what might happen. But for fuck’s sake, he had a tracking device on my phone. Wasn’t that enough?
“Hazel,” he said, “that’s not an option—”
“Whatever you’re afraid of,” I said, gesturing around us, “this is a university. It might not be the safest place in the world, but there are a ton of people here. No one is going to do anything. Not here.”
Finally, he sighed, then he handed me the paperwork. “Dr. Evans has office hours, but afterward, he’ll tutor you.” He leaned forward, then punctuated his words, “Call me after.”
A demand. Through the dark shades, I could still see his eyes beaming at me. The concern was visible.
“It’s only tutoring,” I muttered. I edged my way over to the building, taking a deep breath as I looked up. The angular lines seemed so domineering, like they might come crashing down if I made the wrong move. I glanced backward, but Grant was already gone. I sucked in a breath. Might as well get this over with.
After I checked the room directory for Nate Evans, I made my way down the empty hallway. I peered into his room; a student was already inside speaking in a sing-song voice made for flirtation. I slid down the wall, taking a seat on the ground, and pulled out my earbuds. The new rock playlist reflected how I felt. Deranged. Angry. Alone.
A young woman came down the hall, her sneakers squeaking. I glanced in her direction; her copper hair was in bristly curls, her gait with a hint of aggression. She was on a mission. She looked at Nate’s office.
“Someone is already in there,” I said.
Her entire expression deflated, and she sank down next to me. “I just want to get this over with,” she said.
I knew the feeling. “I get it,” I said. I offered a hand. “Hazel.”
She shook it. “Mara. Are you in his Fear and Loathing class?”
Fear and Loathing class? A class dedicated to that movie and all things Las Vegas? Uh, no. I pointed behind us. “He’s tutoring me. Or he’s supposed to be tutoring me.”
“Do you know anything about him?”
I wrinkled my nose. I knew more about him than I should probably say. But what did it matter if I spilled what I knew? “He’s my sister’s fiancé’s friend, I guess?” I said slowly. But did that mean I knew him? “No. Not really.” But I was supposed to be more honest, right? Which meant admittinghowI knew him. Not pretending like I was another student. Because I wasn’t. I might have been taking a class, but I wasn’t an eighteen year old fresh out of high school. I could tell her the truth. Besides, she seemed fine. “I saw him at Club Hades once or twice, but we never talked. He’s an acquaintance.”
“Club Hades?” Mara asked.
I raised a brow. Wasn’t Club Hades supposed to be the infamous dungeon of Sin City? Everyone knew about it.
Except her.
“You’ve never heard of Club Hades?” I asked.
“No,” Mara said.
“Or the Afterglow?” She stared at me blankly. “Are you new around here?”
She pointed a finger. “That one.”
“Ah. Figures,” I said. Her baby face, round and pinchable, begged for a shocked expression. Time to blow the innocent student’s mind. I tried to say the next line as casually as possible: “It’s an s&m club. Not sure if that’s your thing.”
I had to hold back a laugh. The poor woman’s mind was buzzing, her eyes darting around in front of her, trying to calculate what that meant about her teacher.
“Like sadomasochism?”
