Chapter 2
Kayla
I adjust my watch and start the timer before I continue my evening jog across campus during the evening. There aren’t a lot of people outside anymore, except for those attending a party at the Tartarus house. Luckily, that’s far away from where I’m running.
I like having the peace and quiet around me while I jog, because it helps me focus on the audiobook I’m listening to, and it makes it much easier to keep going.
When I spot a bunch of drunk students headed my way, I veer off-track and go into the direction of the main gates. It wouldn’t hurt to jog up and down the mountain road a bit. I won’t go all the way down, but it’ll have a nice view.
I pause after I’ve passed the gates to take a breath for a moment and admire my surroundings. Priory Forest is so freaking haunting at night with all those animal sounds, and the leaves rustling in the wind almost makes it look like the trees themselves could come to life at any moment.
Sudden rustling leaves put me on edge, and I turn around to see what it was.
A fox, or a raccoon, maybe?
Two dark eyes appear from behind a tree, and panic swells in my body.
I turn and make a run for it, but a strong hand swiftly wraps around my waist and pulls me back into the forest.
What the f—
I shriek, but his other hand clasps around my mouth, sealing the noise inside.
Adrenaline peaks as I dig my heels into the ground and slam my fists into his grip, to no avail. While tears well up in my eyes, he drags me behind a stone and pulls me close to him.
“Ssstt!” A low voice hisses in my ear, and I stop squealing.
Who is this man?
What is he going to do with me?
Suddenly, more rustles are audible up ahead, and a twig snaps in half.
My breathing is erratic, while his comes in heavy strokes. I can feel it as my body is sandwiched between him and the rock.
What the fuck is going on?
He leans in, hot breath fanning against the rim of my ear. “I’ll remove my hand if you promise not to scream.”
Sweat drops roll down my back as I nod.
“Don’t move. Don’t make a sound,” he adds, his voice low … almost threatening.
Not wanting to aggravate him further, I agree. It’s the best shot I have at getting away from him as soon as possible. He removes his hand, but when I turn to see who it is, my jaw drops and I feel faint.
“Mr. Rivera?”
His dark eyes bore into mine, as if to impale me with a secret I’ll be forced to keep or die with.
I swallow down the panic.
What is he doing?
A rock flicks against the stone we’re huddled behind.
SNAP!
His hand dives into his pocket and my eyes widen again when he pulls out a gun.
Oh God.
He gets up, and my eyes instinctively close to avoid looking into the barrel as I expect to be shot.
“Stay down,” Rivera barks.
BANG!
My body jolts up and down from the sound. Someone groans in pain.
BANG! BANG!
Something makes a thudding sound as it drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes, and it makes my eyes burst open again. I slowly move to peek around the corner of the big stone. Somewhere a few feet away from us, between the trees and on the piles of leaves, lies a body … dripping with blood.
Fuck.
Mr. Rivera tucks his gun away and checks the man on the ground, turning over his floppy body to empty his pockets. All I want to do is make a run for it, but my body feels frozen against this cold stone. Mere seconds ago I thought I was the one who was going to die.
“Who is he?” I ask.
Mr. Rivera looks up at me after he’s done inspecting the man. Mr. Rivera wipes his hand on his pants and hisses, sucking in a breath. “Do you want the truth or a lie to soothe your conscience?”
He takes a step closer and I crawl backwards, but he winces in pain and falls to his knees, grunting.
I hold my breath, watching him for a moment.
He shot someone in cold blood right in front of me.
The dean of Spine Ridge University shot someone in the middle of the night right outside campus. In front of a student.
And it didn’t even faze him.
Is he going to kill me next?
Or did he try to protect me?
He lifts up his head and glances at me again before his hand rises from his outer thigh.
Blood cakes his palm.
He can’t walk. He’s not a threat.
Without thinking, I crawl to him.
“You’ve been shot,” I say.
“I misjudged his aim.” He groans again as I help him up. “We have to get out of here. Quick.”
I put my arm around his shoulder. “Can you walk?”
He nods. “A little.”
“C’mon.” I pull him with me towards the open road and all the way up the mountain road until we reach the gates where we pause for a moment. “That fucker slipped right past the guards.”
“He was on campus grounds?” I ask, shocked.
“He undercover. The guards didn’t notice the logo on his boots, but I did. I lured him out so he wouldn’t be able to hurt more students,” he answers. “But I didn’t anticipate one of them being outside of campus walls.”
I rub my lips together, knowing full well he’s talking about me.
“Can you take me to my office? I have supplies there.”
“What about the nurse’ office?” I ask as we head inside the building.
“She’s not working tonight, I sent her home to rest after dealing with… a lot, lately.” He peeks to the side of the stairs. “There’s a staff-only elevator in the corner, behind the staircase.”
“Good, because I’m not dragging you up these stairs,” I say, and we head towards it and step inside.
He holds up his keycard and the door closes, leaving only silence. I look down at his pants which are staining crimson red fast. But when I look back up, he’s staring right back at me, and it catches me off-guard.
The doors open and I pull him along with me towards the third door on the third floor, room 333, the dean’s office.
We go inside, and I kick the door closed as he struggles to get to his chair, where he takes a breath, and then places his gun on the desk. I stare at the metal that just ended someone’s life with ease. The man who pulled the trigger is sitting right across from me.
But am I afraid … or intrigued?
He points at his desk. “There’s a first-aid kit in there. Bottom drawer. Can you grab it for me … please?”
The way he says please has my knees trembling.
I approach the desk and sift through the drawer until I find what he wants and open it. There’s gauze and alcohol pads in there, a few bits and pieces I can use, but not much.
I walk to him and go to my knees in front of him.
“What are you doing?” he mutters.
I look between his legs at the wound protruding through his clothes, but his index finger lifts my chin and forces me to look into his eyes.
God, those eyes. They never manage to break my gaze. They’re so bright and yet … deeply haunting.
“I need to look at the wound,” I say.
“You don’t have to—”
“Let me do this.”
I gently nudge his legs open to take a better look.
“I can’t put on the gauze like this, Mr. Rivera.”
His eyes narrow as I lean forward and grab his belt buckle, and his hand immediately stops me. His eyes home in on me, slowly draping down my body in this dark blue top and leggings, his top teeth drawing in his bottom lip for just a second. But I noticed.
“Call me Salvator.”
A shiver runs up and down my spine.
He releases my hand.
I stay frozen for a second, not sure if I should continue or if I’m overstepping.
I am. I know I am.
But this man … I can feel the yearning from miles away, for months on end, and yet … nothing.
Nothing happens because he won’t let it happen.
Until tonight.
I swallow away the lump in my throat and gently tug at his zipper and button, pulling it all away so I can peel down his pants slowly just below the wound. But the second it pulls over his ample package, it bobs up and down so much my eyes can’t help but zoom in on it.
Good God. He’s packing.
Fucking focus, Kayla.
I avert my eyes and grab the kit, dabbing cotton into the alcohol before I bring it to his skin. “This might hurt a little.”
I clean up the wound, but it doesn’t even seem to faze him. Not an inch of pain mars his face, as though all the suffering has already consumed his soul years ago, and all that’s left is a man impervious to agony, except for one… simple … ache.
“I’m sorry you had to witness me kill someone,” he says all of the sudden. “I hadn’t anticipated anyone being there.”
I breathe out a sigh. “I wasn’t following you, Mr. Rive—Salvatore. I was just taking a jog.”
He grabs my other hand. “I know.” A soft smile briefly forms on his face, and it makes my body heat up.
“I’d like to know the truth now,” I say. “Why did you kill him?”
He tilts his head. “He was an assassin from the Bones Brotherhood.”
“Assassin?” I frown.
“They’ve been trespassing this campus to hunt my daughter Lana after she got into a fight with them.”
I pause after I’ve put the gauze on his wound.
“Wow.”
I didn’t know they were involved in this kind of stuff. His daughter, being hunted by a known drug dealing and trafficking gang? No wonder he pulled the trigger on that guy without a second thought. This must be kept off-the books completely.
“I couldn’t risk them finding her,” he adds, clearing his throat, as I continue tending to his wound.
“I understand.”
When I’m done, I put a piece of gauze on top and try to tape it down.
“Suture it.” He gazes down at me.
“Don’t you want the hospital—”
“I can’t risk this going public,” he says. “Please.”
God. The way this strict-looking, domineering man begs could make a woman want to offer up her entire life on a silver platter.
I nod and grab the needle and thread, then carefully pierce his skin. “This will hurt.”
“I can take it,” he answers, clenching his jaw as I go to work.
I’ve never seen a man hold his shit together as well as Mr. Rivera does. It’s like he must remain in control at all cost, even at the expense of his own sanity … his own life.
“I’m sorry you had to witness me kill someone,” he says all of the sudden.
I pause mid-suturing and look up into his hungry eyes and for a second there I almost thought I saw his actual cock bobbing up and down again.
“Are you afraid of me?”
I glance at the gun still lying on the desk.
“No. I’ve seen plenty of violence. I just never imagined it following me here to this prestige University. I’m not afraid of anything.”
I finish up the last sutures.
“But I do know when to keep my mouth shut.”
I place the needle and thread back into the kit and place a piece of gauze on top of the sutures, sealing it with a few pieces of tape. But when I attempt to remove my hand, he grabs ahold of it pushes it back down.
The intense gaze in his eyes holds mine like he’s commanding the very essence that moves my body.
“I like listening to you talk.”
I swallow, and his eyes follow a single bead of sweat as it rolls down from my neckline into the crevice between my breasts, and he licks his lips again, this time much slower, much more pronounced.
As if he wants me to see it.
His cock, bouncing up and down, right in front of me.