Chapter 10
YOU CAN’T BE HERE
Lexi
“You really didn’t have to walk me to class.
” I glanced at Micah through the curtain of auburn hair swept up in the breeze.
A chill tainted the air, rising from the jagged bluff, and it was only September.
I wrapped my arms tighter around my light jacket.
It would be frigid here in the winter. You wanted cold, Lexi…
“Of course I didn’t have to walk you, but I wanted to.
” He offered a warm smile, chasing away the icy frost that had settled into my bones since I’d raced out of the Sigma Delta house last night.
That dark voice had plagued me all night, and nightmares of a crying girl had kept me tossing and turning until dawn.
“Did Cordelia ever show up?” He pushed his glasses further up his nose.
I shook my head. “She shacked up with some guy from the party. I had a text message from her this morning. She had a little too much fun last night and won’t be making it to class. Again.”
Silence stretched between us, and I chewed on my lower lip as we crossed the quiet campus. Micah paused beneath the shade of an old willow tree and squeezed my shoulder, pulling me to a stop beside him. “You made the right decision... Keeping quiet about last night, I mean,” he whispered.
“Then why do I feel like such shit?” I yanked at the straps of my backpack, fidgeting with the ends.
“Because you’re a good person.”
I scoffed, then lowering my voice, added, “Good people don’t keep quiet about possible murders.”
“I already told you last night, by the time the cops arrived, whatever may have happened would’ve been covered up.
This isn’t the first time something’s gone down at the Sig Delt House, and it won’t be the last, unless we find out the truth.
Those guys are so much more than just a fraternity house.
They’ve got connections in the highest echelons of society: big business, the local government, the police, hell, probably even the White House.
If you’d called the police last night, it would’ve been swept under the rug like every other questionable thing that goes on under that roof.
And worse, it could have put a target on your back.
Now, they think they’ve gotten away with it, which means they’ll relax.
And that’s how we’ll get them.” A smirk ignited a spark in those warm hazel eyes.
I pressed my arms across my chest and released a frustrated breath. “That doesn’t sound remotely dangerous, Mr. Investigative Reporter.”
“I live for this stuff. I’ve been trying to nail those bastards since my freshman year.
” The cheeky grin flipped into a frown, darkness settling over his lively eyes.
“Three years ago, a girl from my dorm went missing after one of their big parties. Her name was Susanna Michaels. We’d gone on a few dates, and.
..” His eyes chased to the ground between our feet. “No one ever found her.”
“That’s awful.”
“She didn’t come from money, not like the majority of the assholes in that fraternity, so no one bothered to look for her.
The official statement from the university was that she’d dropped out.
” His jaw ticked, a flicker of disgust curling the edges of his mouth.
“I knew Susanna. She never would’ve left without saying goodbye.
She was an orphan with no family to search for her, and I know what it cost her to make it to Stonewall.
She wouldn’t have bailed like that. Ever. ”
I reached for his hands and squeezed them between my icy ones.
“I should’ve done something back then, but I had no idea what to do.” Micah’s head dipped, shoulders drooping. “I’ve been trying to get dirt on them ever since, but the Sigma Delts are untouchable. Until now.”
“But I don’t even know who they were talking about, or even who ‘they’ are.” My thoughts flickered back to last night, to the muffled, desperate voices. One definitely belonged to the guy I’d hooked up with in the fucked up Fifty Shades of Grey room, but the other? It couldn’t have been him.
“Maybe you’d recognize their voices if you heard them again?”
“Maybe...” I hadn’t admitted to my new friend what I’d really been doing down there.
How could I tell him I’d enjoyed that dark moment of depravity with a stranger?
That despite the horrible thing I’d witnessed, I couldn’t get his demanding lips, his rough hands, or his intoxicating scent out of my mind.
My cheeks flushed from the heated memories.
Tossing them far, far away, I shook out my head and focused on Micah.
“I’ll try to help however I can, but I gotta go. I already missed this class once.”
“I don’t believe it, not you, pre-med.”
I smiled at the nickname. “It’s just Rocks for Jocks, or whatever.”
He chuckled. “Ah, okay, now I get it. I’m saving that elective for my senior year.”
“Smart.”
Micah released my hand. “Meet you for lunch?”
“Sure.” With a quick wave, I bounded up the steps of Hawthorne Hall.
Darting through the crowded hallway, I finally found the gilded sign for Davenport Auditorium.
That damned name followed me everywhere.
A chill skittered up my spine, and this one had nothing to do with the weather.
I fished my class schedule from my pocket and ran my finger over the room assignments.
The name beside Geology 101 had been smudged, only a D and Auditorium remained. It had to be it.
Darkness crept into the corners of my vision, and I was back in my best friend’s house in Arizona with the black Mercedes parked in the driveway all those years ago.
Stanford Davenport. The man who’d robbed me of my innocence, who’d shattered my relationship with Killian, and who’d fucked up everything for so many years.
The crack of a door slamming shut drew me from the dark thoughts, and I blinked quickly.
Shit. I was late. I raced through the double doors at the end of the hall and tiptoed into the bustling auditorium.
Unlike my other classes, which had twenty or thirty students max, Geology 101 was filled to the brim with bodies.
I spotted a seat in the last row and darted up the steps.
“Take your seats, everyone. Class has begun.” The professor’s voice echoed through the massive chamber.
Crap. I slid into an empty seat at the end and dropped my backpack beside me. Bending down, I rifled through my bag until I found the massive Geology textbook and my favorite pen. As I straightened, the tiny hairs on my nape prickled.
I could feel it.
A glare boring into the side of my head. A devastatingly familiar scent contaminated the air, and I drew in a ragged breath.
The desk beside mine jolted. Hard enough that half the row looked up.
Slowly turning, I met a pair of deep green eyes from my past.
My stomach dropped. All the air whooshed out of my lungs.
For a second, neither of us spoke. Four years of silence stretched between us.
“Lexi...?” That voice. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
My lungs forgot how to work. The last time I saw him he’d looked at me like I was a stranger.
My former best friend looked different now. Harder. Like the boy I knew had been replaced by something sharper.
His hand tightened around his notebook until the pages crumpled.
The lecture faded into meaningless noise. The only thing in the room was Killian.
Holy shit, I hadn’t imagined him the first day on campus. He was really here.
I gaped, unable to string together an entire sentence. Fuck my life, Killian Briggs—no, Killian Davenport, attended Stonewall University. How had I not known that?
Which meant all of this... was the Davenport from my dark past.
My gut twisted and that damned darkness rolled in. Killian and I hadn’t spoken in nearly four years, and I was pretty sure he’d blocked me from his social media, but this was an incredibly important fact I’d missed.
“Lexi!” He snapped his fingers an inch from my nose.
Just like that, the anger roared back to life. Four years and he still thought he had the right to demand answers.
“What?” I snarled.
The violence in his eyes had my own fiery temper igniting. He’d abandoned me. Called me a liar. Completely disregarded me when I’d needed him most.
“What are you doing here?” he gritted out again.
“I guess the same as you, asshole, trying to get an education.”
“No. Absolutely not.” He smashed his fist into the desk, and the entire row vibrated.
The girl a few seats down shot a narrowed glare in our direction, until her gaze settled on my former friend’s face. Her lips curled into a flirty smile.
“Sorry,” she mouthed. “I didn’t realize it was you, Killian.”
Well, that made fucking two of us.
I hazarded a peek through the corner of my eye.
Killian had always been attractive, in a boy next door kind of way, but now?
His cheekbones had sharpened, his sculpted jaw had grown wider, and that sexy stubble.
.. He was hot as sin. And there was something about the dark glitter in his gaze that confirmed he knew it too.
“You can’t be here, Lexi,” he whisper-hissed. Something laced his tone, not just anger... fear?
“At this school or in this seat?” I shot back, ignoring the wayward thought. “Because last I heard, I had every right to both. Just because I didn’t inherit some fancy shmancy new last name, doesn’t mean I don’t belong here.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” His jaw was clenched so tight the tendon fluttered beneath his five o’clock shadow. He dragged his hand through his hair and the sleeve of his shirt rode up, revealing a hint of dark ink.
Well, that was new. The old Killian hated tattoos. Apparently, the old Killian was gone.
He caught my curious stare and tugged the errant sleeve down past his wrist. The scowl carved into his jaw deepened with every passing second of silence.
I averted my gaze and attempted to focus on the professor’s lecture, but my blood boiled. I was so worked up, I couldn’t sit still. Reaching for my pen, I jotted down a few notes from the smartboard. My pen marks were nothing more than dark slashes across the page.
“Why are you here?” he muttered, twisting his head in my direction, clearly unable to drop it.
His scent hit me again.
Expensive. Dark. Familiar. For a second, something in my memory tugged loose... then slipped away.
Keeping my attention laser focused ahead, I ignored him. Which was nearly impossible since his mere presence sucked all the air from the room.
“Lexi!” he barked, this time earning the great Killian Davenport a glare from the professor ten rows below.
A hint of crimson burned his cheeks, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Sorry, Professor Kennedy.”
He sat back, crossing his muscled arms over his thick chest. Hell, when had he gotten so built? And why couldn’t I stop staring at him?
Dropping my gaze to my notebook again, I forced myself to focus. Thank God this wasn’t an important class. The professor’s lecture couldn’t keep my attention to save my life right now. Geology. Geology. Geology.
Killian.
Fuck!
I whipped my head around, his dark glare burning a hole into the side of my face.
“Stop staring at me! I’m here because I got a scholarship, okay?
I had no idea you attended because trust me, you’re the last person I’d ever want to see here.
These are supposed to be the greatest years of my life, and your presence just sucked the fun right out of it. ”
“At least we can agree on one thing.” He slammed his textbook shut, the crack echoing across the high ceilings of the auditorium. “Fuck this, I’m out of here.”
“That’s right, Kill. I’m sure your step-daddy’s money can buy you a passing grade.”
He shot me a scowl over his shoulder before sprinting down the steps. The entire class spun toward him as he marched out and slammed the heavy metal doors.
Fuck. My. Life.
I folded my arms on the desk and sank my head down. I’d come to Stonewall to escape my past, and in just forty-eight hours, my grisly history had surged to the surface with a vengeance.