I get up slowly from my seat, letting her see all the menace that swims through my veins. Damon and River mimic my actions, until we surround her like a pack of hyenas smelling a fresh kill. To her credit, she doesn't shrink away, or show us any fear. Instead, she holds firm, her eyes tracking our movements, silently assessing the threat like a fellow predator.Interesting.The crowd around us shows no such strength, as they take steps to further their distance from us. Can they sense the imminent bloodshed and carnage?I certainly hope so.
"Who are we?" An evil smirk crosses my face. "You should be wary of issuing threats to predators,violent little psycho,you never know if and when they will snap." At my words, I bare my teeth at her, and River, the fucker, snaps his teeth near her neck. She flinches, but catches herself before she can take a step backward.
"I'm not afraid of you, asshole, and don't call me that, or I'll rip out your throat and bury it up your ass!" She growls, and I find her furious expression endearing. So much so that I picture that same look on her face while I have her strapped to my bed, unable to move, gagged, while the three of us take turns fucking all her holes, and filling her with our cum, until it’s pouring out of her. I bet you she would still fight us even then. I feel my cock beginning to swell in my pants at just the thought, and I have to restrain myself from reaching out, grabbing her by her slender throat, and forcing her to her defiant knees. Not yet, the time will come, but first I want to play with her, take her apart, and see what makes her tick.
"Oh,little Olivia,we’re going to have great fun tearing your whole world right from underneath those pretty feet of yours," Damon snarls, grabbing a semi-full cup from the table, which we've just vacated, and pouring it over her head. A shriek blares through the room, and she swings her arm, narrowly missingDamon's face.Damn, she is such a violent little thing, she’s almost perfect.
She swipes at her wet face, fury alive in her green eyes, that shine like fiery emeralds, and call to the monster that lives within me that enjoys the pain and suffering of others. The one I usually have complete control over, but this wisp of a girl seems to be testing my restraint. I can't have that. I can't allow anything to distract me from my plans for complete power and dominion in Soule. She's nothing, just a whore like her gold-digging mom, thinking she can get a free ride. I'll bury her in a deep grave so that no one will ever find her, if she keeps coming at me after I've had my fun, of course.
"I would sleep with one eye open, Livy. You never know when a monster is coming for ya," River chuckles, as he pulls away from the table and starts to walk out of the student lounge, without a look back in her enraged direction. Damon follows suit, after baring his teeth at her once more, and I give her one more perusal from the top of her pop-drenched head, down her seductive body, and meet her furious eyes. "Welcome to hell,sweetheart. I hope you enjoy your short-lived stay."
We reach the Cafe's doorway just as we hear furniture being launched behind us. A look over my shoulder confirms my suspicions. She's flipped over the table in her fury, and the maggots watching her are both entranced and stupefied by our reaction to her, and her violence. Ava flees toward a wall with her cronies, and a look of abject horror on her face. So much for holding her own. I hate fucking weakness.
Olivia Springhill just designated herself as our newplaything, and she doesn't even know it yet. I'm going to enjoy clipping her wings, and bringing that violent nature of hers to heel. I've always wanted a fucking pet.
CHAPTER 6
OLLY
After that horrific and frustrating showdown in the student lounge, with those three assholes and Drama Barbie, I had to find a way to dry my drenched and sticky head from the drink non-sparkly vampire poured over me. What the hell was all that with those douches, and what was the brunette saying that I couldn't hear? I should have paid more attention, then I wouldn't be looking over my shoulder, wondering if they're going to come at me, and they will, I have no doubt. Guys like that can't handle a blow to their egos, especially if a strong woman delivers it.Fragile masculinity at its finest.
I'm finally attending the last class of my first day at Soule University, and I'm exhausted. I prepare myself to see the monster from my recurring nightmares. One that makes those three look like little unruly boys playing at being evil. My body locks tight with apprehension and dread.We can do this, we have to do this, my mind reminds me.
All the research, planning, and steps I've taken have led me here, and nothing short of death will stop me from seeing this through. I fist my hands tightly around the straps of my backpack, and enter the lecture hall, immediately scanning fora seat at the back so I don't grab anyone's attention. I've just sat down, and am pulling my laptop from the interior of my bag, whenheenters, and my breath becomes trapped inside my throat with a choking sound. He walks across the lecture stage toward the podium with sure, long, confident strides. Each one quickens my breathing, as my body tenses with the awareness of danger. Everything in me wants to bolt for the door, and leave this menacing place behind that has taken everything from me, that's taken everything fromus.
He can't hurt us here. We’re safe right now.I repeat the mantra over and over in my head, desperately trying to calm my racing heart and breathing, even as I feel my palms slicken with sweat. Everything in me wants to reach for my small blade, which I have hidden in the bottom of my bag, but I force myself to still my movements.Not here, not yet, we have to do this right, he needs to pay.
A girl sitting in the seat in front of me gives me a suspicious look over her shoulder and, at my responding glare, turns back around with a huff. My eyes trail over the large figure, obliviously setting up not more than sixty feet before me. He's changed a bit in the years since I last saw him, growing into his bulky, awkward body and filling out more. He's sporting a short, conservative haircut now, and a scruff on his face, but one look at those dark eyes reassures me he's still a monster beneath that pleasing exterior. I watch, horrified, as a few female students stare, swoon, or giggle as they gaze at him. They have no idea what they're truly looking at. The devil sends his demons in pleasing packages, and that one there is straight out of the very bowels of hell.
I pull the ball cap I grabbed from my car down lower across my features. I doubt he will remember me after all these years. I, however, see his sinister face almost every time I close my eyes. I tighten my fist, until my sharp purple nails bite into my palm,and the desire to race down these steps, climb onto that stage, and bludgeon him with any object I can get my hands on, is all-consuming.Control.Beating him up is not enough. It won't rectify what he did to her, nor will it provide justice. We’ll have our vengeance and see him destroyed. We can't rest, and neither can she until we do.
Just as he gets himself settled, I watch with rapt attention, as he pulls his phone out from his pocket and stares at the screen. For a moment, his eyebrows furrow, the sides of his lips drop into a confused frown, and his body tenses. I know what he's seeing on that screen; it's the same thing that's on my burner phone.Let the games begin, Professor Rawdon.
I know what you did to all those girls, Jacob.
You're going to pay for every single one that you hurt.
Forget karma, she's taking too long to serve you justice.
Don't worry, it'll only hurt a little.
You deserve what you get, slut.
His body shakes, and his eyes rise, staring into the crowd of students. His hand is clenched so tightly to his phone that I fear it might shatter in his grip. I watch, as he tries to determine whether the person who sent him the message is in this room, and I avoid meeting his gaze. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I discreetly look at the screen.
Who the fuck is this?
I quickly cover the phone with my hand, and slip it inside my shirt pocket, as I catch him scanning the room once more,and pretend to be searching for a pen in my bag. He taps the podium microphone angrily to get all of our attention, and my skin crawls with the sound of his voice. "Settle down, folks, take your seats, and let's begin. I'm Professor Jacob Rawdon, and this is Psychology 102."
Oh, what fun we’re going to have together, Professor Rawdon.I wonder if you'll be able to use your psychology knowledge to figure out who's hunting you now. It's amusing that a monster like him went into this profession, but I guess he wanted to guarantee he knew how to destroy lives, and gaslight his victims.
He's quickly interrupted by the lecture hall door slamming open loudly, and heavy-booted feet entering the room. The professor's look of sheer annoyance appears immediately, as he gets a glimpse of who's making his way down the steps. The latecomer is none other than the evil blond angel, who's now changed out of his pop-drenched pants from earlier, and is sporting some sexy ass gray joggers. What a fucking pity, I enjoyed him looking like he pissed himself. He gives the professor a menacing glare, and nods his head with authority for him to continue.
"I see I have the... pleasure... of your company once again this semester, Mr. Brackley," Professor Rawdon exclaims with sarcasm, and a dark, arched brow. I file the blond’s name away for later in my mind, and watch their interaction with interest. A thought immediately rolls through my mind:the enemy of my enemy is my best friend.
Blondie looks around, unconcerned with Rawdon's annoyance, or the fact that he’s wasting everyone’s time looking for a place to sit. He spies a seat he must want and approaches it, the current inhabitant vacating it as if his body were on fire, without a word being exchanged. Once he plops himself down gracefully, and with an irritated sigh, he turns his attention backto the professor, who is holding up this class, waiting for a response. "Get on with it, Rawdon, these people came to learn, not to watch you eye-fuck me."
Giggles and snorts break out across the room, and the professor's face turns a dark shade of red. If I weren't so annoyed at this motherfucker, I would laugh, too. I can't deny that I'm enjoying how he's taking Rawdon down a peg already. The professor starts speaking about the syllabus, and I tune him out. I'm not here to learn anything from this fucker, so he could be droning on about monkeys on Mars, as far as I'm concerned. My mind runs through the first steps of my plan I've already initiated, and a giddy anticipation rises within me, knowing the fallout will be glorious. I just wish I could be there when the dean receives my anonymous email, with pictures of Rawdon fucking his lovely wife.
