Desperate Valentine (St. Valentines)

2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I need a fucking drink.

The only person that I can talk to about this is out on a date and I’m not ruining that for her.

Unsure of what to do, I quickly head back into my dorm long enough to grab my phone, keys and wallet.

I’m not sure where to go. Anywhere but here would suffice.

This is bullshit. Who the fuck just walks into someone’s dorm like that?

Fuck you, Blaise!

If anyone finds out about this, my life is fucking over before it even started.

I know of a little bar not far from here. I’ve never checked the place out, but it seems like a safe place to go while I cool off.

I’ll figure out everything else later.

A short while later, I arrive at the bar. Lucky for me, it seems quite empty. I suppose everybody is out celebrating Valentine’s Day.

Idiots.

What a complete waste of money.

As soon as I walk in, I’m met with the overpowering smell of stale cigarettes and beer. I really don’t mind. Anything is better than the smell of first stage decomposition.

Almost like everybody knows what I just did, heads turn in my direction. Though I know it’s more than likely because I’ve never stepped foot in here before. I hold my head down the rest of the way to the bar and take a seat on one of the rusted stools.

The bartender shoots me a comforting smile. “What can I get ya?” he asks.

“The strongest shit you have. Please.”

“That kinda day, huh?”

“You could say that.” I sigh as he slides a shot in my direction.

“That should help. It’s on the house.”

“I can pay. I don’t need charity,” I declare in an annoyed tone.

“It’s not charity. I’ve never seen you in here before, and I own the bar. It’s the least I could do for a new customer.”

Before I can say another word, he directs his attention toward the couple that just sat down across from me.

Fuck .

Why do I have to be such a bitch all the time?

That’s what got me into this whole mess in the first place. My smart fucking mouth.

I swallow back the shot and when the bartender walks back toward me, I slide the shot glass toward him, indicating that I need another.

“Am I going to be babysitting you tonight? You look a little young to be slamming the shots back,” he says, pouring me another.

“I’m actually twenty-three, but thanks.”

Maybe it was a mistake coming in here. I’m not in the mood for small talk.

“How old do you think I am?” he asks, drying off a large beer stein.

“Are you flirting with me, sir? You’re probably old enough to be my dad.”

Shit. There it is again.

“Hmm. You might be close,” he laughs.

“Forty?”

“A little lower.”

“Thirty-eight?”

“I’m turning forty in July.”

Okay, good for you, guy.

After pouring the beer and handing it to another customer, he walks over to the other bartender and whispers something in her ear.

“Sure, boss. I got it,” she says, tossing her phone off to the side.

“You.” He points straight at me. “Come with me.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day. You’re here alone and by the looks of things, you’re hell bent on getting drunk so you can forget about whatever it is that brought you here in the first place.”

“You’re not wrong, but it’s not what you think it is. Maybe I just hate Valentine’s Day.”

“Enlighten me.” He curls his finger, and I reluctantly stand, following along behind him as he walks toward the back of the bar. “It’s quiet out back. Doesn’t smell as bad either.” He laughs as he opens the back entrance.

He’s right. That bar smells horrible.

“So. What brings you here tonight, alone?” He reaches into his pocket and grabs a cigarette, lighting it as he leans against the brick wall behind him.

Holy fuck, this man is gorgeous. I don’t know how I didn’t notice that part while we were inside.

“A series of misfortunes, I guess. Well, maybe just one misfortune,” I reply, nerves making me run my mouth. Why did I say that?

“Do tell.”

“Fuck no. Let’s just say I’ll probably be spending the rest of my life in jail if anyone ever finds out.”

“You look like such a good girl, I can’t see you getting into that much trouble.”

“Far from that,” I say. “And how do I look like I’m a good girl? You just met me ten minutes ago.”

“So you’re not?”

“Not what?”

“A good girl.”

“Stop saying that!”

“Oh—does the little diva have a praise kink?”

Shit.

“No. I don’t.”

Lie.

“I saw the way your eyes lit up when I said it the first time. I call bullshit.” He smirks as he blows out a cloud of smoke into the crisp air.

“You’re really pissing me off. Why did I even come back here with you? I don’t even know your name!”

Something about this man is making my head spin. If he wasn’t so forward and arrogant, I’d definitely ride his dick into the sunset.

“You wanted to.” He smiles as he rests his foot against the brick wall. “And it’s Jude.”

I turn to head back into the bar, but I quickly realize it’s locked from the inside, and he must have the key.

“Can you let me back in, please? I’ll go to the washroom and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Tell me what trouble you got yourself into first.”

“No. Why the fuck would I do that?”

“I might be able to help.” He grins, pushing himself off the wall and walking straight toward me.

“How?” I bite down nervously on my lower lip as he gets closer.

It’s like I’m frozen to the concrete.

“Tell me what you did.” He steps in so close that I can feel his hot breath against my cool skin.

“Absolutely not. I’m the only one that knows right now, and I’d rather keep it that way.”

He brings his finger up under my chin and raises my head so I’m forced to look him in the eyes.

“I said I can probably help you. Now tell me what the fuck you did, you stubborn little leopard.”

Bloody hell, this man smells so fucking good.

“You’ll just turn me in. The guy deserved it.” As the words escape my quivering lips, a single tear falls onto my cheek.

“Did you kill someone?” His eyes narrow as he continues to hold my frightened gaze.

“Y-yes. Something like that.” I can barely get the words out, knowing that I’ve already dug myself in deep.

“Something like that?” He tosses his cigarette to the ground. “Where is he?”

“My bathtub. In my dorm room.”

“What?! St. Valentines?”

“Yes.”

“I have connections with the staff there. You’re good,” he assures.

“How am I good? The dude is bleeding out in my bathtub!” I squeal, unable to hold back the tears.

“Trust me. I know how to handle this. Let me talk to Suzanne and then we can head to your dorm in my truck.”

“How are you so nonchalant about this? I literally killed a man and you’re just—”

“I’ve done some things myself… What’s your name?”

“Veronica.”

“Mmm, I like that name. Sounds so sophisticated.”

“Yeah.” I roll my eyes. “If you call a big mouth and a stubborn personality sophisticated .”

He chuckles and unlocks the door as I stand fearfully behind him. What if he’s just setting me up? If he calls the police instead of helping me, I’m fucked.

Why am I taking such a huge risk? I could definitely use his help, but at what cost? Most people want something in return, right?

He doesn’t strike me as the type to rat on someone. How would he benefit from ratting me out anyway?

As soon as we get inside, we head toward the bar where he tells the other bartender to hold down the fort while he’s gone.

He reaches for his keys, revealing a sliver of his hard, muscular stomach as his shirt rides up.

Holy shit.

This is beyond confusing. It must be the daddy vibes he’s giving off. The last thing I should be thinking about is dick.

Yet, here I am, doing exactly that.

“Ready?” he asks, placing his arm around my shoulders as we walk toward the exit.

His truck is massive. Something I’d expect a farmer to drive, quite honestly. Not a bar owner.

“You can wait in the truck while I fetch his body. You don’t need to see it all over again,” he says, opening the passenger door for me to climb in.

Before he gets in, he stops by the side of the truck and pulls his phone out. I can’t really hear what he’s saying, but the conversation is short.

“Sorry about that.” Jude hops easily into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut with finality before turning the key, the engine roaring to life with a noise that startles me.

“That’s okay.”

“I’ll drive you back to your car tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

My cousin warned me about this. How stupid could I be? Hopping into the truck of a man I don’t even know. Let alone allowing him to take me to his house? Nobody even knows where I am right now.

That’s nothing new. Mila is always bitching about not being able to get in contact with me. I’m not on my phone a lot and I’m fairly independent.

“I’m not letting you go back to the dorms tonight. I have a spare room.”

Am I insane? I should be jumping out of this truck.

“I-I can take care of myself…” I insist. The last thing I need is for some guy to think he has to take care of me. I’ve managed perfectly fine so far, without a man.

Who am I kidding?

“I don’t doubt that you can take care of yourself, but you’re in my truck and I’m involved now, so it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re safe.”

Yup. It’s definitely the daddy vibes.

“Are you always so cocky?”

“I dunno.” He grins. “Are you always so mouthy?”

I let out a heavy sigh and turn my head to blankly stare out the window, biting down on my lower lip again.

When we finally pull into the parking lot, I point out which dorm is mine and he backs up to the door.

“Isn’t this a bit obvious?” I say, since his truck sticks out like a sore thumb.

“Let’s just say, we’re going to buy you another mattress tomorrow. We need yours for this.”

“I just got that last year!” I exclaim, whipping my head in his direction.

He rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

I quickly unlock the door and Jude walks in ahead of me.

“I told you to wait in the truck, Veronica. I got this.”

“I don’t always do as I’m told,” I snicker.

“I noticed. I’ll have to change that.”

“Good luck.” I fold my arms over my chest in protest.

This guy.

Does he really think he’s capable of changing me? I’d like to see any man try.

He opens the bathroom door and smirks when he sees Blaise laying in the bathtub with one arm draped over the side.

“Knife?” he asks.

“Yup. I keep it under my bed at all times. Along with bear spray.” I admit.

“Smart girl.”

“Are we putting him inside the mattress?”

“It’s the only way we can get him out of here quickly. My go-to is always carpet, but that’s not an option.”

“Good enough. Where are we taking it?”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. Since you’re in here, can you help me carry him out?”

The two of us head into the bathroom and while I grab his arms, he grabs his feet and we slowly carry him out of the tub and out onto the mattress.

None of this would have happened if Blaise would have just kept his disgusting hands to himself.

My nerves are shot. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this is just a demented fragment of my imagination. A nightmare, even.

At some point, people will notice his absence, and I’m not so sure I’m capable of keeping such a dark secret once the police start poking and asking questions around campus.

If I turn myself in, what then? I can claim self-defense, but would that even hold up at this point?

“Cover the top with that sheet,” Jude suggests as we drop Blaise down onto the bed.

I let out a frustrated groan. “Fuck. I liked those.”

I watch him as he grabs the knife on the floor, still covered in dried blood, and slices down the center of the mattress.

“Again, I’ll take you shopping tomorrow. Don’t worry your pretty little self,” he says as he rolls Blaise into the crevice.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” I chuckle, shooting him a flirty smile.

Jesus, Veronica.