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“I think I’m losing my mind here. What is with all the guys?” I demand, walking around to the back of the building to lean against the brick. The trees across the road sway in the gentle breeze.
“Oh lord, what did Zane do now?” she asks, and I can hear her crunching on a chip in the background.
I think that’s the only thing I dislike about Sandy. She prefers plain potato chips without anything on them. “Not Zane. The guy I’m tutoring,” I sigh, banging my head back against the brick building. “He asked if I had a boyfriend and I said I don’t think so and explained how Zane hasn’t asked me out yet. He said that until Zane gets up the courage to ask me, he was going to woo me. Do people even say that anymore?” I sound incredulous even to my own ears.
Sandy cackles on the other end. “No. Now they say, ‘wanna fuck in the stacks?’”
My brows raise, but I can’t ignore the tingling at the apex of my thighs at the thought of either Zane or Sloane taking me against a bookcase like that. “That’s not funny!” I snap as I cross the road and turn left to head back to the dorm. Sandy says something, but I’m distracted by a ripping sound to my right. I drop my arm to my side and hear the soft sound of Sandy saying my name.
There’s a masculine grunt and I turn away, thinking someone snuck away into the woods for some alone time. The smallest sob reaches my ear. I hang up the phone and tuck it into my pocket as I spin back around and rush through the trees on silent feet. “Lie fucking still, bitch,” I hear the future dead man hiss.
When I find them, I’m instantly murderous. Thankfully, he’s still trying to get her skirt off as she kicks her legs out at him. Before I can get to him, he manages to rip the thin fabric, much like he’s done to her shirt that’s split down the side.
I’m on him before I can even think better of it. I jump onto his back, wrapping my legs around his waist. One arm wraps around the front of his throat, my hand grips my bicep to lock the hold into place. The other arm pushed against the back of his neck. I thread my free hand through his hair and push his head forward, tightening my grip. The guy fights against me. He’s much bigger than me. Standing easily, he stumbles over, slamming his back against a tree trunk. Even with my breath knocked from my lungs, I hold on tightly. The guy’s movements slow until he falls to the ground on top of me. I manage to take in a deep breath before his full weight is on me.
I wait a few moments to be sure he’s really unconscious before I struggle to push him off me. I sit up, blowing my hair out of my face. The girl is sitting on the ground, holding her shirt together as she quietly sobs. That’s when I realize I’ve made a mistake. If we call security, I’ll be questioned. I’m confident in the identity I’ve built for myself, but what if I missed something? I approach the girl before crouching down in front of her. “Do you want to call security?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve already talked to the police, but he’s the quarterback, and they said to just ignore him after he started harassing me,” she sniffles.
“Have you talked to campus security? They have a zero tolerance for this kind of thing,” I ask, not sure why I’m pushing her to do something that could endanger my position.
She sniffles and shakes her head again. “No. I don’t want to talk about it with anyone. I’m transferring at the end of the semester anyway. I’ll just stick to public places until then.”
I huff, “What about other girls? Do you think he’ll really stop?”
Her cheeks turn red and she looks away. “It won’t do anything anyway. He didn’t actually do anything. It’ll be his word against ours.”
I bite my lip. “Do you want me to take care of it? I can make sure he doesn’t do this to anyone else again.”
Her breath hitches. “Are you going to kill him?”
I tilt my head to the side. “Do you want me to?”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m the first person they’ll look at if he disappears. I’m the only one who has complained.”
I smile my Viviana Rossi smile. Maybe it’s time for her to come out and play for a bit. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered. He’ll look crazy and won’t be able to hurt anyone else again.” I pull off Zane’s sweatshirt and hand it to the girl. “Put this on. Go home and take a long, thorough shower, and throw those clothes away in the dumpster. Not in your room or in the bathroom. Put them in the dumpster. Pretend like this never happened. If anyone asks how you hurt yourself, tell them you fell while hiking.” She nods, pulling the shirt on over her head. Her hands tremble as she stands up, and she claspsthem together in front of her. “This never happened, okay?” I demand.
She nods. “Never happened.” She starts to walk away before she turns back to me. “Thank you.” She says before she leaves, still shaking.
I wait a few breaths before I grab my bag and pull open the secret compartment in the back. I dump a little bit of the 1.8% hypochlorite solution onto my hands before I slide on a pair of gloves. I get to work. First, I clean out from under the guy’s nails and wipe him down with the hypochlorite to make sure there is no DNA evidence from me or the girl on him. I make sure to clean up the area, picking up a few fibers from her clothes and some hairs that honestly could be anyone’s, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
The fun part is when I inject him with one and a half doses of liquid benzodiazepine in the elbow of his left wrist. It’ll make anything he says seem like a drug-induced hallucination, and he’ll likely forget everything he saw beforehand anyway. Taking his right hand, I press the right fingers to the syringe and toss it a few feet away.
I check his pockets, finding his phone and set that aside like it’s just out of reach for him to grab and search his other pocket.
Bingo!
I find a small silver pocket knife tucked into his pocket, which is perfect, since it’ll hold a plethora of evidence to corroborate self-harm. Tapping my finger against the knife, I consider what I can do with it, but it doesn’t really take me long to decide.
One particular training day with Enzo comes to mind. It was one of the most useful lessons he ever taught me.‘Listen, Vivy, there are some things men would hate to lose more than their lives.’I can hear his voice echo the words in my mind.
I smirk down at my new friend. “Castration it is.”
The actual act isn’t that hard. I just have to angle my wrist right to make sure it looks like he could have done it himself. Plus, I put his detached body parts in his left hand and the bloody knife in his right. I make sure to get blood on his hands as well, making sure the small splatters look just perfect. Zane would be so proud right now.
It takes me another five minutes to put everything I needto burn into the right bag and tuck it away till I can dispose of it. A cheery tune sounds out around me, and I realize I’m whistling as I head back to the dorm. I’m almost there, which I guess isn’t long since you can see the dorm from the library, when Zane rushes up to me.
“Where have you been? Sandy found me leaving the humanities building and asked if I knew where you were.” He tracks his eyes over me, but I know he won’t find any evidence of what just happened on me. Has it really been that long? I guess I was supposed to be home an hour ago.
