THORNE
Igive Elsbeth a few seconds head start before I jog after her. I don’t stop at my locker, knowing my anxiety won’t settle until I talk to her, alone.
When I step outside, puffs of steam billow from my mouth as I scan the quad. She has class this morning; she won’t head back to her apartment. But where did she go?
I need to get back before Fox finishes his warmup on the treadmill. After I block the morning sun with my hand, finally, I spot her crossing the lawn toward the law library in Langdell.
By the time I catch up to her, she’s already hiking up the stairs.
Of all the libraries on campus, this one is the busiest, nestled between lecture halls and dormitories.
There are plenty of witnesses roaming around.
The renovation done back in the early 2000s took out most of the old, dark wood that spreads through the rest of the buildings.
Tall windows bring in the mellow autumn light from outside but are no match for the bright, fluorescent, recessed lighting scattered on each level.
I wait for Elsbeth’s perfect ass to disappear before I tread up the stairs after her.
It takes me a moment to find her but she’s propped up a small round mirror on a shelf half-way down an empty row of books.
She dabs her finger on the top of her lipstick before tapping her bottom lip then rolling it over the top to spread the pigment.
The residue on her finger doesn’t go to waste as she rubs it across the apples of her cheeks before snapping the compact shut.
It’s like watching the drama department from behind the scenes. One moment, she’s affixing her costume and getting into character, and the next she’s frantically searching her bag with panicked concern on her face.
She takes out her phone but doesn’t seem to touch the screen before she says, “Crap!”
Her voice carries a little too loud and the heads of half a dozen students turn toward her, including . . . Asher.
“No, it’s fine. I just lost my paper and need to find it before class.”
She drops her bookbag, water bottle, and laptop on the table before rushing to the nearest row of books. Grabbing three random volumes, she jogs back to her table, and I watch as Asher glances her way over the top of his laptop screen.
I think she’s missed her calling, because even I want to jump to her side to ease her chaos. She doesn’t need books. She doesn’t need to be on her phone either. But it’s the scene she’s set, and the trap works just as she hoped.
“I’m just so behind,” Elsbeth complains to—I’m assuming—an imaginary phone friend. “The midterm paper is going to kill my grade if I don’t get my shit together.”
Her footing faulters as she sits, and one of the books tips out of her free arm and onto the cluttered surface of the oversized table. Another slips off as if on cue and falls to the floor next to Asher’s foot, and like the curious asshole he is, he picks it up to assist the distressed damsel.
“Shit, I have to go.” Elsbeth’s voice echoes as she slaps her phone face down next to the pile of books. “Thank you. I’m a total disaster today.”
Asher isn’t soft spoken normally, but his deeper baritone doesn’t reach me as easily as her voice does across the room. Doing my best to look as inconspicuous as I can in a ripped gym tank top, I move closer; keeping to the rows of books until I’m only a few feet away between the stacks.
“Sure, no problem,” he says, but it sounds like a question.
“Elsbeth, are you alright?” one of their classmates sitting with Asher’s study group pipes up. “Sorry to pry, but did you say you were behind on your midterm paper?”
“Well, I wouldn’t be except my damn computer ate the progress I made. Now my whole thesis is gone.” Elsbeth wraps her arms around herself and pouts, making a show of what has to be false despair.
We’ve been talking for weeks about her studies, and that paper was almost finished and safely backed up on two jump drives because as she stated, “I’m paranoid.”
“I could take a look,” Asher offers like he’s unsure he should be. “My roommate is a computer wizard and I’ve picked up a few tricks.”
He’s talking about Fox, and my choice to come alone is confirmed because there’s no way Fox would be able to stand back and watch this unfold without bursting into laughter.
“Really?” Her eyes widen for him. “That’s so sweet of you, if you have the time.”
I pan his study group, who all exchange looks.
They’re all thinking that Elsbeth is having some sort of mental break.
Even Asher has been stressed over this assignment.
He’s spent every weekend this semester working on it.
Every last one of them would rather jump off the admin building than flunk a class this close to graduation.
“It’ll be quick. Can you open up the program you were using to write it?” He gets up and pulls out Elsbeth’s chair before retaking his own.
She opens her computer and taps a few times before stepping back to let him see. His brow wrinkles as he moves his hands over the keys and trackpad for a long moment. “When did you lose it?” he asks, not raising his eyes from the screen.
Elsbeth doesn’t bat her lashes at him like she had with me. Instead, she uses her body to reel him in. She leans forward, planting the heel of her hand on the table close to Asher and letting her cleavage do the work.
“Last night. Well, this morning, maybe? I’m not sure,” she answers, sending him on a wild-goose chase. But it’s no secret to the three of us that he won’t find anything. “I’ve had too many cups of coffee.”
The low hum of voices starts to come up the stairs and I check the time on the wall.
It’s still fairly early, most of our classmates are getting ready for the morning class block and either hitting the campus cafés or dining halls to refuel.
But it sounds like something else is going on downstairs. A committee meeting?
When I turn back to the two of them, Asher’s head is lifted and he’s staring up at Elsbeth like he’s seeing her for the first time.
“Did you transfer in from another session? I haven’t seen you in class before.” Asher’s voice is barely audible over the growing noise, but the way he’s looking at her makes my stomach sink.
“I like to keep to myself.” She shifts in her seat and leans in closer to him. ”It’s easier to work without distractions.” Their voices lower and several exchanges happen that I can’t hear.
The first time I laid eyes on her, I couldn’t find words.
She’s classically beautiful. Soft but intentional.
The way she carries herself is like she is well aware of the way others see her.
That perfect curation of effortless fashion and makeup mixed with a strict sense of self-worth.
She’s not a snob, though she can be guarded at times, like she was with Fox and me earlier.
But when she’s open to a conversation, she is all-consuming.
And at the moment, Asher is experiencing the addictive nature of that perfection. I have to do something.
He leans into her, their knees under the table flush together. I can feel the tension of a question coming when the screeching sound of alarms go off overhead. Everyone looks up to the blaring sirens as one of the librarians rushes up the stairs.
“Please collect your most valuable items and find the nearest exit. There is a small fire on the lower level. Do not panic. It is contained,” Gloria, the head librarian, calls with stern authority.
“Do not speak. Do not run. The fire is contained. There is no danger, but the fire department has to come and investigate.”
She makes eye contact with me before moving on to repeat her announcement. The study group is getting to their feet behind Asher and Elsbeth. Tension in my shoulders loosens as Asher stands up to gather his things.
“I can help you after class,” he says to Elsbeth as he slings his bag onto his back.
“If you haven’t packed up your belongings, you must exit without them when I get to ten. One . . . Two . . .” Gloria comes bustling back and glares at Elsbeth, who is still sitting down at the table, mouth agape.
I take the opportunity to head toward the stairs and make my way to the first level. There is a whiff of smoke when I reach the second floor, and it gets stronger the farther I descend. Flashes of red and white lights follow me down.
Three admins stand at the front desk on the ground floor.
They’re talking to Jerome, a part-time librarian and my classmate last semester.
He’s pointing to a small trash can that sits between the double front doors.
Tendrils of black stain the silver door of its dome and there is a puddle of water and something that looks like coffee or soda collecting around the smooth metal base.
The floor must have been cleared of students already because aside from the sirens still going off, I can hear him loud and clear as I walk closer. “No one was coming in or out. I checked the feed. No one has thrown anything away in over twenty minutes, and it just burst into flames.”
I look up at the cameras positioned to face the door.
Whoever set it would have had to come in or out of the doors and there is nowhere to hide.
The nearest row of shelves are at least twenty feet away, and most people use the first two floors as a meeting place.
The majority of the space is taken up by tables, armchairs, and couches.
“You can’t go in there.” Gloria comes up behind me, her shrill voice in my ear making me jump. “Use the exit next to the bathrooms.”
“Right,” I say, but she’s already moving toward Jerome and the other faculty members as two firemen walk through the front doors. Less than five minutes. That has to be some sort of record.
The small fire was long extinguished with no obvious harm done, but since the entire school is historic, the fire department has to be called and the building has to be evacuated.
I glance over my shoulder to see Elsbeth finally coming down the stairs, her curiosity about the commotion finally getting the best of her.
I slink slowly back to where the bathrooms and emergency exit are to wait for her.
Gloria will likely have her leave the same way, and I think it’s time that Elsbeth and I have a real conversation.
Giving Elsbeth a few seconds, I lie in wait.
The dark alcove is the perfect cover to spring on someone, and that seems like the worst place to put the women’s bathroom, but today it’s to my advantage.
My heart pounds in my ears as seconds pass.
Will she be scared, or will she show me the same fight she did at the gym?
The fury in her eyes could become my new kink.
I like the way she challenges me, but threatening Fox with pepper spray got my dick rock-hard. That inner fire is intoxicating.
Finally, she turns into the hallway, looking for a back exit, and I push off the wall.
Turn around. I know you feel me.
The bounce of her ponytail makes my palm itch. I want to know how many times her silky strands will wrap around my fist. Will she call out my name when I pin her body with mine?
She’s within reach, and anticipation thrums in my blood as I close the distance between us. Her hand reaches for the emergency exit door, but before I can get to her, someone else comes out of the shadows and pulls her into the men’s bathroom.
I curse under my breath and plant my hands on the door to try and push it open, but whoever grabbed her is too fast, the deadbolt firmly in place.
I deepen my voice and slam my hand on the wood. “Hey!”
“One minute!” she yells back, and I freeze.
She knows them? Everything about this girl is a mystery layered in smoke.
Pressing my ear to the thick door, I strain to hear what’s going on inside. She’s not screaming in panic and there are no sounds that indicate she’s putting up a fight. I hold my breath and try to hear what she’s saying. Every other word is drowned out by the old fire siren.
“What . . . you . . . doing . . . ? I told . . . this.” Her voice filters through the cracks.
Whoever is inside with her has too deep of a voice to make it through the thick wood. I’m only able to hear murmurs until she speaks again. “I . . . important. Don’t tell . . . trust . . .”
Another long, infuriating moment passes and there is silence.
My fist pounds on the door again and this time it flies open. Elsbeth’s death stare is aimed up at me with no surprise to be found on her red face. The siren over our heads finally stops and silence falls between us.
“What?” Her voice cuts through the ringing in my ears.
I look over her, but no one is there. Stepping into her and pushing the door flush to the wall, I can’t see who pulled her in or how they would have escaped. There are no other exit doors or windows, but I know I saw someone, heard her talking to someone. Didn’t I?
“I saw . . .” I look at her, trying to work out the puzzle of it in my head. “Are you okay? There was a—”
Tears cling to her lashes, her face is red, but the concentration of it around her eyes finally registers. She’s crying . . . or was?
I look her over, but she’s wearing too many layers.
The athletic jacket and leggings don’t give away if the person who grabbed her did more than just put their hands on her.
The fire in my blood stokes to life when she wraps her arms around herself, tenderly touching her bicep as if it pains her.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m taking a step closer and reaching out for her.
She jerks her arm away from my approaching fingers either out of instinct or muscle memory, and both scenarios make heat rise up the back of my neck.
Someone’s been hurting her and not just today.
“My bladder doesn’t know the difference between an emergency and test anxiety. I’m fine.” She pushes past me and I immediately hear the exit door buzz as she leaves.
My brain spins, taking my body with it. I turn around in a circle, trying to make any sense out of what the hell just happened.
The two stalls are empty, their doors wide open.
Whoever was here is long gone and now so is Elsbeth.
I have to talk to Maddox. As much as I hate to admit it, Elsbeth is not who we think she is.