Chapter 18
18
RAINE
“ I need air.” My fingers fumble with the door handle, and I practically tumble from Killian’s car. Sticky matcha latte spills over my fingers as I stalk a few feet from the Corvette. Stopping to stand in an empty parking spot, I shake my head.
If I talked to my dad about my complicated feelings for Killian, Dad might tell me the reason Killian’s consistent obsession with me feels good is because my mom left me without a second thought. She was supposed to love me unconditionally and to want me with her always. Instead, she discarded me like last week’s leftovers.
It makes no sense that Killian’s presence in my life would be more intense and consistent than a parent’s, especially given his antisocial personality disorder. Since sociopaths really only care about themselves, most of them would have replaced me the minute I started making things difficult. And it’s not like Killian would have a hard time finding someone else. People have always been drawn to him. I really can’t understand why he hasn’t moved on. But then, I’ve never really understood why he is the way he is.
From his actions, he seems to want everyone but me to stay away from him. If he were ordinary, like the rest of us, he would’ve found it very easy to be ignored in high school. Many kids were. But he was larger than life. Exceptional in every way. The best student. The best athlete. The best-looking. He was cool in that singular way that people who truly don’t care about popularity can be. A complete enigma.
Because there was no ignoring his blindingly perfect—at least on the surface—existence, he mattered to people. Our classmates wanted Killian to like them, and they wanted him at their parties. Which increased my own popularity because, for Killian, there was one person who mattered, and I was her. So if they invited me to things and I came, he would show up.
My thumb rubs the side of my coffee cup absently as I stare at the peach sky. There was powerful armor that surrounded me because of his attraction to me.
I remember feeling very self conscious at a pool party. I overheard one of the girls say I had the body of an eleven-year-old boy. A football player agreed I “had no tits at all.” They decided if I didn’t fill out by nineteen, I should really invest in plastic surgery.
I remember standing silent, unable to respond. Until that moment, I’d felt good in my sleek, black two-piece swimsuit. The scorpion sting of their words forced me into a shady corner of the yard. I stood under an umbrella, trying to journal in my phone, which my dad always suggests as a good way of processing painful emotions.
But before I could tap one thumb against my phone’s screen, Killian showed up. He’d spent a lot of the summer rowing and swimming at Liam’s house. Now his all-muscle, six-three frame was sun-bronzed and breathtaking. Like a god. That’s what I thought when he pulled off his shirt. Apparently I wasn’t the only one to think so. All the conversation around the pool seemed to stop as everyone looked at him.
Killian chose the only lounge chair with an empty one next to it. After setting his shoes and socks under the one he was sitting on and tossing his shirt on the other, he strolled around the pool to where my wrap and bag rested. He picked them up and came to where I was standing half concealed by the tiki bar. He ignored the ice-cold sparkling juices and frozen mock-tails .
“We’re sitting there.” He cocked his head to the lounge chairs centered in front of the pool’s deep end. “Let’s go.”
And I did.
Killian’s unwavering interest in me did more for me in that moment than any amount of journaling would’ve done. It conveyed a secondary popularity on me and somehow validated my worth.
Yes, in a baseball cap and slouchy clothes, my body could pass for a middle-school boy’s, but there was no way I could be completely self-conscious about my looks when Killian liked me for myself.
Settled on their loungers, the people who moments ago dissected my appearance unfavorably now looked at me with blatant jealousy.
“Killian?”
He rolled onto his side to face me and waited for me to speak. Even that small action was a stamp of approval, seeing as he hadn’t acknowledged anyone else, not even the guy whose party it was.
“Um, what do you think about me maybe getting some work done?”
“What for?” He squinted in the sun, his pupils pinpoints, making the blue of his irises seem like lapis rock. “Why renovate your bedroom when you’re not even gonna live there after next year?”
I covered the surprised laugh with my hand. “No, not on my room.” It amused me that, at times, someone so smart could be clueless. “I meant on myself. ” I gestured to my chest. “On my body. Maybe breast implants?”
His face shuttered. “No.”
Immediately feeling better, I kept my gaze fixed on him, looking for any sign he might be lying to be polite. “Other people think I should.” My eyes darted to the people in question. “You have to admit parts of me are too skinny. Even when I work out, my legs are still sticks.”
His expression remained unyielding.
“Haven’t you ever thought I’d look better with bigger boobs?” I pressed.
“ No. ”
The tension in my body eased as the last of my doubts drifted off at his stalwart conviction. My happiness in that moment was golden .
Killian’s expression darkened. “There’s no fucking way I’d let anyone cut you open and put their hands inside you. To change you.” He put his arms out, like a priest putting them above the communion in blessing. “You look exactly the way you’re supposed to look. Exactly perfect. And that’s the way you’re staying.”
Perfect. That word itself was perfection at the time. Because Killian’s opinion mattered to me. More than my own or anyone else’s. Even my missing mom’s.
During high school, it was addictive… that feeling of having his attention completely to myself. Is there anything better than feeling chosen by the person everyone else wants?
“Hey,” Killian says, as he emerges now from the Corvette.
Being pulled back to the present, back to Granthorpe and my current situation of being the semi-prisoner of a group of dangerous young men, isn’t what I want. What I’d really love to do is bask in the memories that came before things fell apart for Killian and me.
“Raine. We’ve gotta go or you’ll be late.”
My head turns, and my gaze takes him in. The beautiful menace.
Drawing in a slow breath, I walk back to the Corvette.
When we’re both back inside, he says, “You know, I can be a better person. If you help me.”
My eyes widen, and I tilt my head so I can look him in the eyes. “Do you really believe that?”
“When you and I are together, I don’t get random urges to fight. During the time I was with you in secret, it was easier to stay out of trouble. The compulsion to find a way to feel something dampens around you. Probably because, in bed with you, there’s already an intense rush.”
I close my eyes with my heart pounding in my ears. “You hurt me. You cut me when you didn’t need to.” Physically and emotionally. I don’t add the last. I’m not sure he’d understand it.
His finger pushes my hair back and traces a path along my jaw. “I didn’t do that to hurt you. It wasn’t revenge.”
My lids rise, and I stare in his eyes. “It was.”
“No. You’ve seen it in the mirror. You know what I did.”
I shudder. I do know. It wasn’t until much later, when the three small lines formed a tiny white scar that I realized the mark was an off-kilter K .
“I’m afraid of you, Killian. That’s not a good basis for any kind of relationship.”
“I’ll never do that again. I already have what I wanted.” He drags the sleeve of his knit shirt higher to display the small white scar on his right bicep. “You put your mark on me. And I did the same. The one on me is just a line, though. If you want to turn it into an R , you can. I’ve thought about doing it myself, but cutting left-handed, I’d fuck it up.”
My short bark of laughter startles us both. He is such a lunatic.
“I’m not going to carve my initial into your flesh. That’s awful.”
“What’s awful about it? People get other people’s names tattooed on themselves all the time. A couple of quick nicks with a sharp blade would be over in a second. I barely felt that first cut.” His lips brush against my hair, causing a ripple of shivers to run down my spine. “Come on. I know you like the idea of my wearing your initial. Your pupils dilated when I suggested it.”
“I do not want that.” Even as I speak the words though, my heart pounds with excitement. It’s as if his disturbing urges are infectious, and I’ve already spent too much time around him.
“Yeah, well, I do.” His tone is matter of fact as he grabs the necklace and lifts it to my throat. In an instant, it’s clasped and his hands drop away. “Take the necklace,” he says, studying the way it looks on me. “Call it hazard pay for staying close to me even though you knew it was dangerous.”
I swallow, but before I can reach back for the clasp, my phone beeps.
Glancing down, I see a push notification of an email from my seminar professor that I don’t need to come to class because Owen Malenus wants to meet me at the Lambda Delta Kappa fraternity house.
“Is that Owen Malenus the film guy?” Killian asks, reading the notification over my shoulder.
Licking my lips, I nod. “He did a lecture for us last week and also helped grade our short films. Since, I’m only a freshman, I didn’t have to submit one, but he’s one of my favorite directors, so I did. There’s a rumor he’s on campus because of a new project he’s doing and that he might let some students work on it.” My heart’s pounding for a different reason now. “We need to go, Killian. I don’t want to keep him waiting.”
“Congratulations,” he says, putting the car in gear and pulling out onto the street. “If he’s meeting with you, it’s because he liked your film.”
A smile pulls at my lips. “Think so?”
“Of course.” The certainty in his voice draws my smile wider. “The guy’s been nominated for an Oscar. He’s not going to waste his time with someone whose work is mediocre.”
“I would be so happy if he liked it,” I say with a small smile. “Let me find the frat house’s address.” As I’m bringing a campus map up on my phone, Killian shakes his head.
“I know where it is.”
“Have you driven by?” I didn’t think Killian and his housemates spent much time around campus. They seem to have other… pursuits.
“Yeah.”
In the past, Lambda Delta Kappa was the most difficult frat to get into because of the power and prestige of its alumni. Among its former members is self-made billionaire Drew Ralston who started his company while at GU.
Right now though, the frat house is shuttered because of an ongoing federal investigation into its ties with the campus serial killer who abducted six women, killing three. Many Lambda Delta members were expelled or left voluntarily while under suspicion of criminal activities.
As Killian drives down a street of massive houses, I tilt my head.
“I think the Lambda house is closed, so I guess I’ll be meeting Mr. Malenus outside.”
“No, it’s open.” Killian’s thumb taps the stick shift. “They weren’t allowed to participate in Rush Week and can’t accept pledges. Plus, most current members left GU and haven’t returned. That’s why it looks deserted.” Killian nods as we pass a large red brick building with black shutters and a long walkway to the sidewalk. “It’s that one. ”
The Greek letters Lambda and Delta are attached to the brick on either side of an uppermost round window above the entry. I wonder why he, Jamie, and War came to see this place. Morbid curiosity, maybe.
The house looks stately and grand, but its reputation will be tarnished forever now. The Casanova serial killer is already infamous across the country.
There’s no parking, so Killian turns onto a wide driveway and heads to the back of the house. Signs warn that it’s private property, but he pulls into a parking spot next to a black Lincoln Navigator with a California license plate.
“I think I should use the front entrance. Why don’t you swing around and stop on the side of the house as you’re leaving, and I’ll hop out?”
Killian turns off the engine. “I’m walking you in.”
“Why?”
He can’t think I’d talk to Owen Malenus about my current situation. That would be completely insane. More likely, he wants to scope things out to satisfy himself there’s no cause to be jealous. Or he suspects it’s a hoax. There is still the mystery of the WildSide post.
Killian ignores my question as he climbs out. When he comes around to open my door, I glance up at him, squinting from the sunlight that shines over his shoulders.
“The message came right from my professor. I don’t think it’s a trick.”
He holds out a hand to me. “I’ll walk you in. To be sure.”
So he is coming along to be sure it’s safe? That causes a cascade of warm feelings. He’s definitely too possessive and jealous, but the upside is that ever since that night at Alicia’s, I’ve known Killian would walk blind into a dangerous situation to rescue me. It’s impossible to resist that side of his obsession.
Taking his offered hand, I climb from the car. “This house looks almost as big as Meredith Hall.”
“It might be the same size. Looks about…” His gaze moves over the building. “Fifty-thousand square feet, give or take five.”
Killian has some way of breaking structures down in his head and coming up with the sum of their sections. He can also accurately guess the size of pools and ponds. It’s something to do with calculus, which I never took in high school. I was terrible at math and science, whereas they were just two more things Killian excelled at. He might be a sociopath, but he’s a genius sociopath.
As I push my hair over my shoulder, I give him a sideways glance. “I’m required to take a physics class for non-science majors. It’s not part of our core curriculum for film, but GU requires it, and it’s a recommended course for cinematography. I’m kinda nervous about it. The St. Seb’s counselor advised me against taking Physics there because my math grades weren’t the best.”
“It’ll be easy,” he says dismissively.
I choke out a small laugh as we walk the path along the side of the house. “No, it won’t.”
“The exams are online. I’ll take them for you.”
I’m quiet for a moment. Such a tempting offer. But what if we got caught? Or what if I actually needed to know some of what was taught?
“No,” I say, trying to suppress a small smile.
This is another one of the almost charming parts of Killian’s personality. For me, he would do things, simple things, underhanded things, illegal things. I don’t have to ask. Or even thank him. A flush creeps across my skin slowly at the pleasure it still gives me.
“I don’t want to cheat, but maybe you can figure out who’s nice in Science Jam? They offer free tutoring for Arts majors.”
“No way. I’m not joining a science club. I’m past all that. And I’m definitely not finding you a tutor. Are you kidding?”
“Then I’ll find someone myself.”
“No.”
“Yes,” I say, lowering my voice when he reaches past me to ring the bell. Looking back at him, I say, “You can’t tutor me, Killian. You’re too impatient. You’d say something that would make me feel stupid, and even though I hate you, it would hurt me.”
“You think you hate me?” There’s a note of surprise in his voice.
“We stabbed each other.”
“We nicked each other. ”
“I stabbed you. An inch of that blade went in. I hit your bone.”
The corner of his mouth curves. “Yeah, you did. Gave me quite a jolt.”
“I’m surprised you don’t hate me back. You warned me not to go. I ignored your warning. Isn’t a part of you angry with me?”
He shakes his head. “I came to make trouble, and you reciprocated. Anyone else, I would’ve killed for what you did. But the number of cuts I’d forgive you for is… any. Any number.”
Any. And deep down, I know he means it. Which is why, deep down, a part of me wants to forgive him, too.
Leaning close, Killian whispers, “I wish I’d fucked you that night while we were still bleeding.”
My jaw drops, and I look over my shoulder at him again, appalled even as another shudder rocks my body. “There was nothing sexy about that night. You would have had to force me.”
The gleam in his eyes is enough to make my breath catch. “No.”
I don’t know if he means he’d never force me or that he thinks he’d never have to force me. I’m about to ask when we’re interrupted.
Because I’m distracted by the off-the-charts-crazy conversation I’m having with my deranged stepbrother, when the Lambda House door suddenly opens, I jump. Killian’s hand grips my arm to steady me. Of course, it does. No opening door ever startles him. If the grim reaper ripped open a hellmouth and Killian fell in, he’d probably dust himself off and say, “thanks for sending me home.”
A tall blond man in tan trousers and a navy sweater with a GU logo looks us over. The tip of his nose resembles an upturned cube and reminds me of a pig’s snout, except small.
“Can I help you?” His voice is kind of nasal.
“I’m Raine. Raine Risher?” I add when his expression doesn’t change. “I got a message Mr. Malenus wanted me to come?”
“Oh, good,” a voice says from behind him. “That’s one of the film students. Let her in.”
The young man opens the door wider and extends a hand. “I’m Leighton Miller. Lambda Delta Vice President.”
After I shake Leighton’s hand, he backs up. Without anyone’s invitation, Killian steps inside with me .
The large entry leads into an even larger area that’s big enough to host a ball, and at its center is Owen Malenus. He wears jeans and a GU t-shirt under an olive Army surplus coat. With a friendly close-lipped smile on his face, he runs a hand through his sandy brown hair that’s peppered with premature gray. With his other hand, he’s shooting video with his phone and his gaze shifts to our surroundings. Because his attention’s diverted, it allows me to study him for a moment without it becoming awkward. He’s smaller than he appears onscreen when accepting awards. Medium height and thin. It puts me at ease immediately. When he turns, his smile widens, revealing the slightly overlapping front teeth I’ve seen a million times in photos.
“Raine,” he says, walking over and extending a hand. “Great to meet you.”
“Thank you.” I only leave room for the smallest beat of silence before adding, “Your lecture was so good. And your films, amazing. You’re the reason I wanted to come to GU. Your interview in Film Voice about studying here—where you explained how it helped you evolve as a screenwriter.” I take a calming breath. “I knew this was the place I needed to be.”
His grin reappears. “A fan. Off to a good start.” He squeezes my hand and then looks at Killian. “And you? An actor?” He moves to the side to look at Killian’s profile. “No, I would’ve remembered that face from the Theater Studies roster. That’s a million-dollar cleft in your chin.” Mr. Malenus holds out a hand.
Killian shakes it. “Killian. Raine’s boyfriend.”