Chapter 4
Ingrid
Itossed and turned all night. Barely sleeping after being jolted awake by my father’s five-thirty morning phone call.
For the last two months, he’s nagged me about Wilson, repeating the same threat: play along, or face life on my own.
No support. No safety net. Just a bleak future waiting to swallow me whole.
So, for him to suddenly claim I no longer have to kiss Wilson’s arse puts a sour taste in my mouth. Why? What’s changed?
Stranger still was the call I got from Wilson just as I was finishing lunch.
He was pissed and requested to come over right away.
I reminded him I have classes all afternoon and suggested meeting him after my last one around four.
That didn’t go over well. He demanded, pushed, tried to make it sound urgent, wanting me to cast aside my responsibilities for him.
When I refused, he hung up. Only to send me a message moments later—angry words shouted in all-caps.
WILSON:
FINE. DON’T BE LATE.
I should’ve just met with him. All afternoon I’ve been useless, unable to focus. My professors’ words were no more than background noise, differential equations resembled scribbles, and chemical compounds blurred into meaningless patterns.
It’s a good thing each lecture is available online.
Tonight, I’ll re-listen and prepare for tomorrow.
I can’t afford to fall behind—not when my father’s itching for another excuse to pull the rug out from underneath me.
I know he’s scheming. I feel it. He’s come up with a new plan, one that will force me home before I can carve out my escape.
The rhythmic thud of Wilson’s pacing greets me as I approach the dining hall where we agreed to meet. He’s on the verge of a meltdown, his fists balled at his sides. When he sees me, he charges, a terrifying roar escaping his lips.
“What the fuck is going on?” His fingers dig into my arm, leaving a burning pressure that promises a deep purple bruise. “Did you tell my father I was cheating?”
“What are you talking about?” I try to shake him off, but his grip only tightens. “Please let go of me. You’re hurting my arm.”
“It seems someone has informed my father I’ve been cheating.” His voice trembles with fury, eyes storming, jaw clenched until the muscles throb. “He ordered me home. Says I’ve got to transfer. And insisted that this thing between us is finished.”
“Have you been?” It slips out before I can stop myself from asking.
“What did you say?” Seething with anger, Wilson steps closer.
I’ll be honest, I’m frightened. I’ve never seen him so mad.
“Did you tell him that?” He’s in my face now, his voice just above a whisper. “I told you it wasn’t me who cheated. Kurt was the one who hacked the system and stole the tests. How was I to know that?”
Kurt’s his roommate. After a professor grew suspicious of why his grades improved, he set a trap. Wilson and a few others were caught up in the scandal, but because Kurt fessed up, the others were being closely watched. One mistake, and they would share Kurt’s fate—expulsion.
“I never said a word.” My steps falter in reverse, breath reverberating through the silence, until I collide with the unforgiving chill of the brick wall. “I swear.”
We’re now in a hidden spot, shielded from the prying eyes of passersby.
Looking up at him, I ask, “So, you’re leaving?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he snarls, a low growl rumbling in his chest, as he takes a menacing stride closer.
“If I have to leave, so do you. I’m not about to let this hiccup ruin my plans.
I was promised a life, and I will get that, Ingrid.
One way or another, even if that means I have to use you to get it. ”
Fear coils in my chest, but I refuse to let him see it. With a measured breath, I gather my strength, raising my voice, and give him no doubt about where I stand—or how this will go.
“My father called this morning. Informed me the agreement was no longer valid. Which means I’m free to make my own choices. I’m not choosing you.” My voice comes out stronger than I feel, and that strength only fuels Wilson’s rage.
Before I can react, his hand is around my throat, fingers tightening, cutting off my air supply. “You. Fucking. Bitch.”
Panic floods my senses.
“You really think you have a choice?” He gets right in my face, his breath like a poison I’m forced to breathe in. “You don’t.”
I grip his wrist, trying to relieve the pressure so I can breathe.
“Everyone has a choice,” I whisper.
The searing sting of his slap detonates across my cheek, his grip clamps tighter, the crack of the impact ringing in my ears.
“Not you.” His fist—or maybe his palm—cracks into my eye socket.
White-hot pain blinds me, shockwaves rattling through my skull as my vision blurs. “You will learn your place, Ingrid.”
I close my eyes, waiting for the next blow that never comes.
The sudden ability to breathe hits me like a wave, forcing my legs to give way beneath me. I stumble to the ground, landing on all fours as I suck in some much-needed air. Each inhale makes my lungs burn as searing pain shoots through the left side of my face.
I never thought Wilson had that in him. Guess I was wrong. It’s a good thing I’m no longer required to play nice.
Wait.
What the hell happened? Where is he?
Glancing up from my crouched position on the ground, I see Wilson is now the one pinned against the bricks.
His feet dangling inches above the ground, held aloft by a man whose eyes burn with barely contained rage.
His forearm presses firmly against his neck, choking him.
Poor Wilson, his face now a ghastly blue, grunts in pain as a fist slams into his stomach, the impact jarring his whole body.
What the hell is Darius doing here? Why, after all this time, did he show up today of all days?
“Stop.” My shouts are weak whispers, so I try again.
I suck in a lungful of air and do my best to make my voice heard.
“Stop. Stop. Stop!” Each one is slightly louder than the last. “You’re going to kill him. Stop!”
This time Wilson is the one crumbling to the ground as the dark figure takes a solid step back. His broad shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths. His eyes, dark and intense, burn into me, conveying nothing but rage as he spins and unleashes a final, brutal kick that knocks Wilson over.
“You had better count your lucky stars, you piece of horseshit, that she begged for your mercy.” Darius Falcon fumes as he points a finger down at Wilson’s crumbled body. “If you so much as lay a finger on her again, I will kill you.”
Despite the fact he just got his arse handed to him, Wilson groans and defies the looming figure. “Are you threatening me?”
“No. I don’t make threats.” Kneeling next to Wilson, Darius pulls out a dark handkerchief and wipes the blood off his fist. “That’s a fucking promise. One you would be wise to heed unless you want to test me.”
Standing to his full height, he glares down at his victim with a warning I’m fairly sure he’ll follow through on. “Now get the fuck out of here before I forget the lady’s pleas and finish the job.”
He gives a quick nod to the figures obscured in the shadows behind him. With practiced efficiency, two men help Wilson to his feet. The urgent whispers of the observing students are a stark contrast to the men’s silent, purposeful movements as they lead him away.
Breathless, I fight to gather enough strength to rise. But before I can, his shadow engulfs me. He bends, scoops me into his arms. In one motion, I’m cradled against the solid wall of his chest.
His voice rumbles deep. Dark. Dangerous. “Fucking hell. I should have killed him. You should’ve let me kill him.”
I sag into him, my cheek pressing against hard muscle, a welcome support. “What are you doing here?”
When he shifts to bring me closer, I inhale. Damn, he smells nice.
“I’m here to make sure you’re safe.”
“I don’t need your kind of help.” Tilting my head back, I glare up at him, reminding him of how he left me. “You kissed me and then you ran like a chickenshit. Go back to wherever you were hiding. Leave me alone.”
He strides forward, unmoved, making me add more to make a point. “I still don’t like you, even after such a mind-boggling kiss.”
Darius chuckles, the sound low and rich, his chest vibrating beneath my cheek. “Too bad. I’m here. Deal with it.”
Sighing, I settle in more, letting his familiar scent comfort me. “Only until I can walk again. Then I’m sending you packing.”
Seeking refuge from my pain, I shut my eyes and let the darkness envelop me.