Thirteen
Scarlett
I startle awake as my nightmare quickly fades into the corners of my mind. I rub my eyes with the heel of my hands, and look at the time on my phone. It’s eight thirty in the morning. There’s no way I could go back to bed, so I decide to get up and start my day. I slip out of the bed slowly, in an effort to not wake Whit. Pulling on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and hair. Seeing the bite marks on my neck and collar bones makes my cheeks flush. He wasn’t kidding about marking me.
I shake my head and make my way into my kitchen to make a pot of coffee and some bacon and eggs. I’m so hungry. While the bacon is frying, I grab a cup of coffee and my laptop.
Can I trust him?
My body already does, but what about my heart?
I mean he broke into my house, and he’s definitely crazy, and he’s a rockstar but somehow he makes me feel safe and cared about.
As I try to process everything, I get a ping on my computer, notifying me of an email. My heart skips a beat when I see it’s from Dean Buckley. Could it be? Could he have finally listened to reason? I open the email with shaking hands.
Ms. Calhoun, I hope this email finds you well. Since your thesis was submitted using plagiarized material, we can’t let you graduate. However, we’re prepared to offer you a second chance, with the following requirements met:
1. Complete a new thesis on a subject of our choosing within two weeks. 2. Attend weekly meetings with the university board to track your progress. 3. Have your new thesis reviewed and approved by a committee before you are allowed to graduate.
If you fail to meet these requirements, you will not be allowed to graduate. However, if you successfully complete a new thesis within two weeks, we will consider your application for graduation.
Regards, Dean Buckley
My heart sinks as I read the message. I was hoping he’d finally see reason, but instead he’s given me a second chance, but with conditions that seem almost impossible to meet. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. There’s no way to complete a new thesis in two weeks when the other took me two years. I am being punished for Sterling McAllister’s sins. I’ve always been a good student, always followed the rules, and now I’m being treated like a criminal. I feel anger bubbling up inside of me, and I slam my laptop shut. I can’t believe this is happening to me, and I can’t believe that the university would do this to me.
My timeline for collecting blackmail against Dr. McAllister just got a lot shorter. How am I supposed to graduate now? How am I supposed to finish my thesis and get the hell out of here? This is such bullshit. And to make matters worse, I can’t stop thinking about Whit. He’s been on my mind constantly since I met him, and it’s driving me crazy. He’s a distraction I don’t need right now, but I can’t help but think about his piercing eyes, his strong arms, his soft touch. I know I should focus on my studies, but he’s always there in the back of my mind. I can’t let this infatuation get in the way of my future.
I turn off the stove, not even bothering to eat. I grab my bag, phone and keys as I shuffle into some shoes and leave. I need to get away from Whit, I need to clear my head and figure out what to do next. I can’t let my feelings for him cloud my judgment, or distract me from my goals. He’s a rockstar now and has a career to focus on too.
We can’t possibly be anything to each other. Right?
I walk around the campus for hours, my feet sore and my mind exhausted. I don’t know what to do, but I know that I can’t just give up. I won’t let them win. I won’t let them take this from me. I decide to go to the library to see if I can find any information that can help me. As I search through the stacks of books, I spot something in the corner of my eye, Dr. McAllister. He’s watching me with a sick and twisted smile on his face. He knows what he did, and he knows that he’s won, at least for now.
I try to leave through the back but he stops me, pulling my bag backwards, making me fall to the floor.
“Did you really think you could get away from me, little slut?” he sneers at me. “I own you now, Scarlett. You’re mine.”
“No,” I whisper, trying to stand up. “I’ll never be yours.” I feel the darkness creeping in, and I know I’m in trouble. I’m in danger, and there’s no one to save me. I’m all alone, and I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. “Please, let me go,” I beg, my voice trembling.
“I hear you’ve been trying to spread your pathetic little tale about me to my colleagues,” he says, his voice cold and menacing. He grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet, his grip painful and bruising. I try to look in every direction, but the library has long since emptied.
“I haven’t told anyone anything,” I say, my voice shaking with fear. I’m terrified of him, of what he might do to me if he thinks I’m a threat to him.
“Don’t lie to me, you little whore,” he hisses, his face contorted with anger. “I know you’ve been spreading lies about me, trying to ruin my reputation. Well, I won’t let you do it. You’re going to pay for this.”
“I just want to graduate,” I cry, tears streaming down my face. “I worked so hard for this. Please, just let me go.”
“Shut up, bitch,” he snarls, his hand reaching out to grab my hair and yank my head back. I yelp in pain as he pulls me towards him, his hot breath on my face. “I’m going to make sure you never walk across that stage,” he promises in my ear before he pushes me to the floor. I can smell the whiskey on his breath. My heart is pounding in my chest as he looms over me, his eyes filled with hate. I try to crawl away, but he’s too fast, his hands gripping my ankles and dragging me back towards him. I’m trapped, and I know that he’s going to hurt me, maybe even kill me.
He holds me steady as he rustles around in my bag.
“What are you doing?” I scream, trying to kick him away. But he’s too strong, and he overpowers me easily.
“Looking for this,” he snarls, holding my recorder up to my face. “I know you’ve been recording our conversations, trying to gather evidence against me. Well, it won’t work. You’re not going to get away with this.”
“Please,” I beg, my voice trembling. “Please, just let me go. I won’t say anything, I promise.”
“Oh, I know you won’t,” he sneers, his face twisted with hate. “Because I’m going to make sure no one believes you. You’re nothing but a slut and a liar. You’re just jealous that I have a successful career and you don’t. You’ll never have what I have.”
I’m sobbing now, my body shaking with fear and anger. He slaps me across the face, the pain stinging and sharp.
“You’re pathetic,” he spits out. “A worthless piece of trash. You’ll never amount to anything, and I’m going to make sure of it.”
He continues digging through my bag, taking all of my notes that have anything to do with my thesis.
“Where is it?” he demands, his voice cold and menacing. “Where’s the rest of your research?”
“In the library,” I lie, trying to stall him. “It’s in a folder in the stacks.”
“I don’t believe you,” he sneers, his eyes narrowing. “You’re lying to me. You think you can get away with that?”
“Please,” I beg, my voice trembling. “I’m not lying, I swear. Please, just let me go.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he growls, his grip on me tightening. Just when I think he might cart me away, I hear noise downstairs and the professor drops my bag. He runs out of the library and I sink to the floor in relief, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. But I’m not safe yet. I need to find help.
I tentatively touch the heated skin on my cheek, wincing at the pain. I know it’s going to leave a bruise. I don’t know what else to do but let the tears fall. Sitting in the corner of the second floor of the library, I cry for all the shit and heartache that has led me to this moment.