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I’m on my way back to my room when my phone vibrates in my pocket. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I’m not sure why, but it makes sense as soon as I pull my phone from my pocket. My father’s name flashes across the screen. Without hesitation, I hit the answer key and bring the phone to my ear.
“We found her…the mystery girl.” My father’s deep voice fills my ear. It takes a moment for my mind to catch up with his statement.
“Found her…” I repeat out loud.
“Yes. I’m going to need you to come home so we can deal with this.”
“Of course.” I grit my teeth, knowing what’s going to come next. I’ve never killed a woman before, never even considered it, but for Aspen, I’ll do anything, kill anyone. I’ll burn the fucking world down for her.
“Be ready in twenty minutes,” my father orders, and then the line goes dead. I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it for a moment, wondering if there are any lengths I won’t go to protect Aspen.
I don’t have to think for long. Anyone who had a part in hurting her will pay dearly. Aspen has and always will be mine.
25
ASPEN
I stare at my phone, reading the text from Quinton for the hundredth time.
Q: Can’t meet tonight, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.
It’s the last text I got from him, and that was yesterday afternoon. Since then, I’ve texted him half a dozen times and got no response.
My mind is reeling, coming up with every bad situation and scenario possible. Why couldn’t he meet me? Is someone onto us? We’ve been so safe, making sure we don’t sit together and aren’t seen with each other. I stare down at my phone, willing my heart to stop beating like I just ran a marathon.
The ground our relationship stands on is unsteady. We can’t be together, but somehow, we can’t be apart. If anyone suspects he killed the entire Valentine bloodline for me, horrible things will happen.
I text him another text message, asking if he’s okay, and hit send. I know better than to assume something terrible happened to him. After all, his father is the head of the mob, and Quinton isn’t your typical college boy. He can protect himself just fine. Still, there’s this nagging worry at the back of my mind.
Putting my phone on the nightstand, I grab the book I was reading earlier and open it to a new chapter. I need to get my mind off Quinton. A fictional book boyfriend will have to do.
I’ve barely read the first paragraph of the chapter when my phone vibrates against the wood. I drop the book like it’s on fire and lean over to grab my phone. My stomach tightens with anticipation of Quinton’s incoming text, only it’s not him who texts me. It’s Brittney.
Brittney: Hey, I need your help with something. Find me in study room E in the library.
The excitement of getting a text from Quinton fizzles away. He’s probably fine. Meanwhile, Brittney needs my help, and I’ll do anything at this point to keep my mind off Q. I type out a quick on my way message and hit send. Then I roll out of bed and grab a cardigan off the chair, tugging it on while I slip my feet into a pair of ballet flats.
I didn’t have anywhere to go today, but I still got up, put on a pair of black leggings and a T-shirt. I even braided my hair just to have something to do.
Once I’m dressed, I head out the door, making sure I have my phone and room card. The hall is quiet like always as I step out of my room. It isn’t until I get to the next floor that things become a little more hectic. Most of the students are already in class, but a few stragglers rush down the hall, passing by me without a glance.
I withhold the incessant need to peer over my shoulder and see if anyone is following me. I’m a basket case at best, waiting for Nash to jump out and try to corner me again.
The thoughts disappear as soon as I reach the library, the huge arched doors calling to me like a beacon. To me, home is anywhere a good book can be found, and this place is full of them.
With a beaming smile, I walk into the library and head straight to the study rooms at the back of the library. Stopping once I reach room E, I grab the door handle, and open the door. I flip on the light switch, and the room fills with light.
As soon as I step inside and find Quinton standing there with a smirk on his face, his inky hair disheveled, and his dark brown eyes turning molten, I realize this was a setup for something else entirely.
