Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
The next morning, when I dragged my ass out of bed, I was already late for school. I quickly got ready and tore out of there like the hounds of hell were on my ass. I hopped in my SUV and sped to school, avoiding all the known places for cops to wait. The cops in Sandstone seriously loved their speed traps. The thing was, I also knew the city gave them a monthly quota of how much money they needed to make from tickets to pad the budget.
In that aspect, I didn’t blame them too much.
By the time I got to the university, most of the good parking spots were taken, so I had to park on the other side of the campus. Which was what felt like miles away from where I needed to be. I hoofed it across the quad, trying to avoid making eye contact or talking with anybody. By the time I got to my class, I was sweating buckets, and all I wanted to do was turn around and go home.
My only saving grace was the knowledge that my professor wasn’t an ass when people came late. I pushed open the door and slid into the first seat I could find at the very back of the lecture hall. Professor Walker glanced my direction once and then continued on with his lecture. His experience in forensic psychology made me constantly look for other opportunities to study with him.
Walker was so out there that we were using a textbook he coauthored with some other well-known psychologists. He had been an expert witness in several criminal cases and had even consulted on a couple of the more prolific serial killer cases. The dude would have a field day if he delved into any of our minds.
The guy next to me leaned over. “Running a bit late today?”
I nodded. “Hit the snooze button too many times.”
I multitasked by grabbing my notebook and text out of my bag, wishing he would stop distracting me.
“Fair enough,” he replied. “Walker hasn’t covered much yet, but if you want my notes, I’d be happy to work out something with you.”
“Thanks, but I’m not interested.”
He was attractive enough, but after Dirk, I would fuck no one from the university, let alone date them.
Burn me once and all that shit.
“Not even a coffee?”
“I don’t have time for dating,” I told him. “Sorry, I don’t want to be a bitch, but I’d really like to listen to the rest of the lecture without getting called out by the prof for distracting everyone.”
Thankfully, he took the hint and was quiet for the rest of the class.
I doubted he was happy about it, but fuck, I was here to learn.
The professor continued to discuss how some crimes were over-reported by the media, and how they only represented a percentage of what was really going on. It was an interesting concept. It made me think about how governments occasionally kept their crisis level higher than normal as a method of control. If everyone believed the situation was more dire than usual, then it could sway the populous to spend less or more depending on the situation.
A great example would be when the government reported the terror threat as high. All those backwoods doomsday preppers would be out readying themselves for the worst. Weapons and ammunition sales for personal use would go up, everyone overlooked military expenditures. Necessities like toilet paper, Kleenex, and antibacterial items became overpriced due to low supply.
Everything was all linked, something akin to the butterfly effect.
I was a bit lost in my head over all the conspiracies when the professor snapped me out of it by calling out, “Ms. Jordan, would you mind staying back for me?”
I nodded.
I walked down the stairs in the opposite direction of everyone as they left the lecture hall. Once everyone cleared out, Professor Walker turned my way.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Of course,” I responded, unsure of where this was going.
“Normally I wouldn’t be asking a student about their personal life, but I received an unsettling email from a former student.”
“Really?”
“Do you know a Dirk Sanderson?”
I huffed and couldn’t stop my eye roll.
“By that reaction, I would have to say it’s a yes.”
“He isn’t taking the dissolution of our non-existent relationship very well,” I responded.
“Be that as it may, I need to ask you if you’re in danger. The things that man was saying about where you work are unsettling, at best.”
Dirk the Jerk strikes again.
“First, I would like to have it known that I don’t appreciate being forced to discuss my personal life. That being said, I can honestly tell you I’m not now, nor will I ever be in danger from my employer or the people I work with.”
“So, you do work for the Reapers as their bartender?” he pressed.
“Yes, but Dirk wasn’t supposed to know that.”
The professor sighed. “I’m not sure where he’s getting his information, Ms. Jordan, but he was genuinely concerned for your safety and wellbeing.”
Of course he was.
“Harleigh, please,” I told him.
“Harleigh, I appreciate you answering my questions because I realize you’re not obligated to. I’ll be honest, I would be more concerned if I had seen your grades suffering, but nothing’s a miss. Please put this old man’s heart to rest.”
“Professor, I promise you I’m not in danger. The club wouldn’t ever hurt me. They treat me like their little sister.”
“Okay. I know you have to get to your next class, so I won’t push this any further. With that said, I want you to know that my office is always open.” He handed me a business card with a number scribbled on the back in a red pen. “That’s my personal cell number. You can use it day or night if you’re in trouble.”
“I appreciate your concern,” I told him.
“Have a good rest of your day,” he replied with a sigh.
I jogged up the stairs, and when I hit the door, I glanced down at the professor. As if he sensed me, he looked up, so I waved and went out the door. Thankfully, he didn’t keep me long, which was great because I had a ton of other classes and then I had a job later. It was a job I was looking forward to now, since Dirk has infiltrated my school too.
At least Dirk still didn’t know who I really was.
At Sandstone University, I enrolled under the last name Jordan, which was my last name at birth. Since my father didn’t know about my existence, my mom gave me her last name. It actually worked in our favour because I could interchange the names based on whatever situation I was in. When I moved in with my brother, I adopted the last name West to solidify my presence in their world.
What could I say?
Liam was a genius.
Being deeply entrenched in our world made his mind wander to all the ways in which he could help our cause. Even before my brother bended to my will and allowed Liam to help us, he was helping me. One of the first things he did was code a program to search for all of our likenesses. I didn't care that it wasn't legal. It used using facial recognition to scour through anything hooked up to a network. We designed it to either replace it with something or someone similar, or it would blur records to make them unrecognizable.
So, as far as anyone was concerned, we didn’t have a presence in the world.
At least not one that could be used against us.
Sure, there was always the possibility of witnesses to our criminal activity, but those were easily squashed. Fuck no, we didn’t just kill them, or at least not immediately. First, we persuaded them it was in their best interests to forget everything they saw. It was a less messy method, but it was effective. We didn’t need to be like other clubs to invoke the same fear. Us just being us was enough.
If they knew what was good for them.
Liam’s program also accessed the registrar’s records and the campus security through a backdoor he designed via hack. It blurred my school photo identification in their system, unless I was within a few feet of the terminal they were using to access the information. Liam designed an app on my phone just to allow my identification.
Otherwise, they were shit out of luck.
It was a great way to ensure our enemies couldn’t find me.
* * *
When I was halfway across the quad, I heard the footfalls of someone trailing close behind me. I glanced behind me and spotted Dirk.
Of course.
With the blindside from Professor Walker, I should have known he was at the school. I increased my speed to get away from what was gearing up to be an uncomfortable conversation.
“Babe, why do you keep ignoring me?” Dirk’s desperate voice called from behind me.
“I thought it was perfectly obvious why I’ve been ignoring you, Dirk,” I replied without a pause in my momentum.
“I told you I was sorry for everything that I said,” he whined.
Once I reached my parking space, I stopped and turned toward him. “Frankly, I could give a flying fuck whether you apologized. You knew there could be nothing between us.”
“I told you I wanted to change the arrangement,” he argued.
“I thought I was clear that nothing more could come of it. You kept telling me time and time again how you were perfectly fine with the situation. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, you tell me you’ve changed things.”
“I want you to stop following me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
People gawked at us, seeing to hang onto our every word. At least there would be some witnesses to his stalker ways.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. This needs to stop.”
“But you love me,” he argued, taking a step forward and reaching out.
I slapped his hand away and moved closer to the driver’s side door. A few of the hockey players nearby looked like they were deciding whether I needed help. With a subtle shake of my head, I told them I could handle it. Even then, they didn’t cease monitoring the situation. It didn’t surprise me, considering one of them was Alder King, the younger brother of Braxton’s partner.
We were the same age and in the same program at the university, but I was two years ahead of him in my studies. The last thing I needed was for him to get injured in a tussle between me and my latest booty call. No one wanted to mess with the police chief’s family
Noting my attention was anywhere but on him, Dirk snapped, “Are you fucking him now, too?”
“If I was, would that finally make you let me go?” I asked.
“I’ll just have to try harder to win you back,” he responded.
Something completely fucked this guy in the head.
“Dirk, just go home and for the love of all that’s holy, stop trying to make problems for me at school,” I told him as I put my hand on the door of the vehicle, hearing the doors unlock.
“I was only trying to help.”
I opened the door and got in. He grabbed the edge of the door and pulled the door back so I couldn’t shut it.
“Look, Dirk, I’m already late for work.”
“You need to get out of that place, baby.”
I pulled harder on the door, but with him holding onto the corner, I was met with resistance.
“If you don’t let go of my door, I’m gonna have to call campus police.”
“Fine,” he responded as he released the door and held his hands up in surrender.
As soon as the door shut, I locked it and turned on the ignition. With my attention split between him and getting out of my parking spot, I backed up the vehicle.
Then I got my ass out of there and off to work.
* * *
Later that evening the Reapers sent me out on another job. Sometime earlier in the week, and prior to my arrest, one of our informants came to us with word of a hit on a yet to be named police officer. Liam sifted through our normal channels and confirmed our intel was good. Then just this morning, someone spotted a certain somebody who shouldn’t be in town.
Ever.
He was banned six months ago for dealing drugs on our turf and selling to minors.
My brother’s should have already trussed the fucker up in one of our many abandoned buildings. When I got there, my brother was waiting outside the building with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “He’s inside waiting for you,” Bear told me when I arrived at the house.
“Thanks,” I replied. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
“I’ve already set up his IV.”
“Okay, cool.”
I walked up the wooden steps and pushed the back door open with a creak. Kujo was waiting for me just inside the porch.
“Hellcat, he’s over there in the kitchen. I’ll wait here while you work.”
“Sure,” I told him.
No use in both of us getting dirty if we didn’t have to.