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I asked the faculty if I was allowed to set up a new lock—and they weren’t sure of the legalities because it’d involved digging holes both in the door and the frame. They asked why, and I couldn’t bring myself to detail my issue, knowing they’d likely have to report it to the police, make a huge deal out of it. I can’t do something like that, marking myself as more trouble than I’m worth for Rothford. So I just played the part of the paranoid single lady. My contact informed me they’d file my request to be reviewed by the board. I don’t know how long that’s going to take. I’ve been checking for news every other day, so far in vain.
When I bring it up, Violet repeats I can stay as long as I’d like, I’m very welcome, my presence is no bother, all that. But I’m still a guest. Guests don’t stay indefinitely.
“Well, I can still drop you off,” Beaufort offers.
He’s really a nice guy.
I consider it, but it’s only a fifteen-minute walk, and it’s nice out, so I smile and shake my head. “It’ll be nice to stretch my legs. Thank you anyway.”
I’ve only made it halfway when some guy in full leather on a motorbike flies past me, glances at me through his matte black helmet, then slows to a stop a few paces ahead.
My heart beats hard in my chest. What does he want with me? I don’t know any bikers. What are the odds that he stopped for another reason, like to take a picture of something behind me? That happened to me in third grade, someone said hi, and I waved, only to realize they didn’t know me at all and were addressing their friends, not me. I glance behind me. There’s nothing, just some shrubbery.
We’re still on campus, in broad daylight. Nothing’s going to happen to me here, I tell myself.
I can’t deny my fight-or-flight instincts have kicked in, and I’m not great in a fight. Shit, considering my circumstances, I should take self-defense lessons.
The stranger moves and I start to back away. But he only removes his helmet.
“Sarah?”
I sigh in relief.
Dark hair, a gorgeous face worthy of Adonis, and eyes shifting between a familiar ice blue and green.
“Markus.”
He frowns at me. “You shouldn’t be here alone. Does Marius know you’re walking?”
I audibly groan.
Marius. I actively attempted tonotthink about him in the last couple of days. His hands on me. His fingers pinching my sensitive flesh. His cock inside me, driving me wild, and then—nothing. Fucking nothing. There’s no doubt that he purposely stopped before I could comeboth times, the asshole.
I’ve attempted to take matters in my own hands, but my touch doesn’t feel nearly as satisfying as his. Maybe I should invest in a vibrator.
“It’s none of your brother’s business how I get to and from campus,” I say, my voice clipped.
“You don’t have a ride?” he asks.
These spoiled brats are impossible. “I don’t need one. Public transit, have you heard of it? Granted, it could be more regular, but—”
“Hop on,” he says, offering his helmet.
I only gasp. Me, on a bike? “No, thank you. I’ll take kidnapping over dying on this death trap.”
The little Goltz brother—though little is hardly the ideal word to describe this six foot something giant—rolls his eyes to high heaven. “We’re not going to get in an accident between here and the Hunts, Sarah. It’s like, half a minute.”
“Which is why I’m happy to walk. It’s healthy, for one.”
“I can’t let you walk alone.”
“Why the hell not?” I’m honestly baffled. He doesn’t even know me.
“Because Dez will murder me if she heard I left a woman in danger alone.”
“We’re in Thorn Falls, for Christ’s sake! What’s the crime rate, here?”
“For poor, pretty women no one will miss if they disappear? It’s higher than your average rock star on tour.”
