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Slater Cullen.
His family owns and operates one of the biggest architecture firms on the East Coast. I interned with the company during the summers after my sophomore and junior years of college. I have a standing offer to work for the company full-time once I graduate next fall semester.
I’m in the five-year architect program but plan to double up on classes this summer to graduate a semester early.
While I’ve worked for his family, I’ve met Slater on more than one occasion. He’s a fucking prick. He’s arrogant, swears he’s god’s gift to women, and is lazy as shit. And those are his best qualities.
Naturally, he’s a big shot on Monique’s campus, and somehow she ended up dating him. They met when she came to visit me at the NYC office. I kick myself daily for ever making that fucking introduction.
Since our freshman year fight over her loser boyfriend, I’ve kept my opinions to myself about who she dates. But I couldn’t hold back when it came to Slater. They’ve been dating for nearly two months, and I want to crack the fucker’s skull every time I see him.
I know he’s no good for her, though he hasn’t done anything yet. I have a gut feeling about him. Not to mention, I’ve heard stories of how he likes to get a little rough with the girls he dates.
“Where the hell are you?” I say to no one since I’m alone in my dorm room.
I pace my room, wondering if I should grab my keys to make the drive to her campus. It’s almost midnight on a Saturday. My roommate went home for the weekend, and the rest of my suitemates, including my cousin, Kyle, are out for the night. I came back early because the feeling in the pit of my stomach wouldn’t let up.
Something’s not right.
Unable to take the feeling anymore, I grab the keys to my Jeep and make a beeline for the door. I stop short as soon as I open the suite’s main door.
Standing before me is Monique. Her large eyes are filled with unshed tears, and her arms are wrapped around her body.
“What happened?”
“I-I took an Uber to get here,” she says.
I sniff. “Have you been drinking?” I can smell the alcohol on her. She knows drinking too much could be dangerous to her health. Before she can answer, I take her by the wrist to check her watch’s numbers.
They’re slightly lower than usual but don’t look too bad. Still, I don’t like it.
“Come in.”
“I had one sip of beer,” she says when I try to tug her inside. “I know I shouldn’t have. I thought it was harmless.” She hasn’t moved from the entrance. Her eyes cast downward. She’s avoiding my eye contact for some reason.
“I believe you.”
“The guard downstairs knows me. He said it was okay if I came up. You won’t get in trouble for me being here without you signing me in, right?”
There’s a nervous tension in her voice that’s setting my teeth on edge. Something’s the matter, and she’s doing her best to avoid talking about it. That only makes me more nervous.
“I wouldn’t give a shit if I got in trouble or not.” If she took an Uber all of this way in the middle of the night, I know it’s because something’s wrong.
Very wrong.
“I can go if it’s not okay,” she says like she didn’t hear me.
“Monique.” I tug her arm to get her to focus on what I’m saying.
She gasps in fear and pulls away. The flash of terror I see in her eyes makes me see red. I have to fight hard to control my temper. Yet, I want to demand to know who it was that put that fear in her eyes.
Who was it that made her so rattled? Without having to ask that question out loud, I already know it has something to do with Slater fucking Cullen.
I just know.
“Come in.” I step back so she has space to enter the suite. “You’re safe here. You know that.” I have a feeling she needs to hear those words.
She visibly swallows and nods. When she does, I almost become blind with rage. Peeking above the large scarf around her neck is a red mark. I start to reach for the scarf, but I don’t want to terrify her even more.
