Chapter 1 Angel #2
A few weeks into my third year, I had the incident with the masked thugs and Dave.
All these years later, I was still of two minds about the outcome of all that.
I may only be a contract lawyer, but we had law and order for a reason.
It was not the right of the man on the street to be the judge and jury of their peers.
It definitely wasn’t their right to take the law into their own hands, especially hands that were armed with baseball bats.
But at the same time, I had no idea of the horror that Dave’s victims had been through.
To inflict that level of abuse on one person as if it were a game, against their will?
No, I couldn’t honestly say he didn’t get what he deserved at the hand of the Devils that night.
And that there was my problem. I believed in the law, but I also believed that the punishment the Devils gave out was justified.
In the following weeks after Chrissy and I had spoken to the girls, we heard rumors that there were a few more “unexplained” dropouts of seemingly popular, successful male students.
We knew they must have been Dave’s friends who took part in the attacks.
Over the years, I had heard that some of them were arrested and charged for similar crimes or their actions when at college, but all of it was kept so quiet and hushed up, making it difficult to get the right story.
Nevertheless, by the time Christmas was approaching, I had felt the anxiety leave me when I walked the campus, knowing the threat was gone.
A threat I never knew existed, but still, I felt better.
All thanks to a handful of guys who called themselves Devils.
The stories about them were ridiculous. It was impossible to believe that a group of guys caused so much trouble, or mayhem as they called it, and got away with it, and not only got away with it, but did all that and remained anonymous.
It seemed that no one spoke about who the Devils were.
I’d heard one story that said they were never constant.
It was a rotating group, and the members never knew who each other was either.
Which was obviously ludicrous, as I knew one of the guys’ names from the night of the attack, Jer.
He’d been named by his friend, and I had been determined to find him.
I’d never been a party person. I liked my own company.
People, well, people were odd. And demanding.
And intrusive. Chrissy was the best roommate ever because she literally left me alone for days and never needed to “check in” or randomly share her day with me.
But my desire to find Jer and ask him questions was burning in my gut.
In the following weeks, I learned about Mayhem.
Pranks, ill-timed stunts, usually some form of violence, and this God-like quality that students on campus revered.
There was to be a huge party at the football house, and the rumors were rife that the Devils were going to turn up and mayhem would be wrought.
Shocking the hell out of my roommate when I asked if she was going to the party, I’d shocked her even more when she said she hadn’t been invited, and I told her I would get us both invited.
Five guys who were capable of beating up people and cars, and strategic enough to cut off escape routes, and clever enough to keep it contained?
They had to be sports guys. Jocks may get a hard rep for being dense, but these were the guys earning millions while the nerds pushed paper.
I knew that because I was one of the nerds.
Sportsmen and women were disciplined. Committed.
Dedicated. All five of them may not be athletes, but I was betting that some of them were, and I only needed one. Jer.
Jeremy Pittman. Tight end for the football team, six-five, broad-shouldered, soft-spoken. Bingo. It took me longer than it should have to track him down. He was slippery for a big guy, but find him, I did.
“Jer?”
The guy turned at the sound of my voice, his height dwarfing my smaller build. He looked completely different without the hoodie and the bandana. A five o’clock shadow, what looked like a previously broken nose, and an easy smile as he looked me over.
“Who’s asking?”
“I’m Angel. We weren’t properly introduced last time.”
Frowning, he looked at me as though he were trying to place me. “Do I know you?”
“Um,” I hesitated. I had expected instant recognition. “You helped me out of a car a few weeks ago.” Was that vague enough? I didn’t want to blurt it out in case he wasn’t who I thought he was.
“I helped you out of a . . .” A flash of understanding crossed his face. Looking around self-consciously, he took a step closer. “What do you need?”
That took me by surprise. He thought I needed help. I did, but not the help he probably wanted to give me. “To say thanks?”
Tension left him as I watched his shoulders relax. “No need. Happy to be of service.” Giving me a smile, he went to move past me, the conversation obviously done.
When my hand reached out to grab his arm, stopping him from passing me, he frowned at me. “Can we talk?” I asked him.
“Not much to say . . .”
“Angel,” I reminded him. “Angel Balan.”
Jeremy stepped back and once again considered me from head to foot. “You want a date or something?”
“Excuse me?”
“I have a girlfriend, so I’m not interested.”
Blinking rapidly, I quickly considered my options. “Eh, no.” I couldn’t fight my bemused smile. “I just wanted to talk to you about the night and, um, Dave.”
“Don’t know any Dave.”
Tilting my head back to meet his eyes, I raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you’re going with?”
Jeremy grinned at me and half shrugged. “Let it go, Angel. Ain’t nothing for you to worry about or know.” He started to leave again, and I knew I had almost run out of time.
“It’s just, I’m scared, you know? I don’t know who to trust, and I can’t even enjoy this college because I’m worried about what’s going to happen at parties and .
. .” I quickly glanced at him to see if he was listening, and I felt guilty when he looked concerned.
“I’m being silly, don’t worry about it.”
My bet paid off, Jeremy moved closer to me, and again checked to make sure no one was listening. “You’re okay. They were dealt with — all of them.”
“Honest?”
Rubbing my arm soothingly, he nodded. “Hey, tell you what, there’s a party at the house later this week. You should come. You’ll be safe. Ain’t no shit like that happens in that house to be worried about.”
“Oh, I don’t know . . .” I hesitated while I internally danced a jig.
“Trust me, the safest place for you on this campus is in the football house.” With a smile and a reassurance I would be welcome, he left me in the hall.
Safest place, my ass.