Hitman on Campus Page 2

  Fuck, what a headache.

  “I’ll kill him for you when you find the guy.” I confirm to Sullivan.

  Surprisingly, I find that I want to. I’m usually fairly indifferent about my kills, but the idea of someone wanting to take out that sort of sweet, beautiful girl from the world bothers me. Maybe Sullivan would expect loyalty to drive me instead, but hell, he runs the Irish mob in Baltimore - he probably deserves this.

  I could easily imagine him ordering something similar for someone else’s child - who knows, maybe that was what happened to this guy. The want-to-be-killer’s grudge is almost certainly justified. I’ve never really cared about the right and wrong of it all, but I’m not going to fool myself into thinking I’m on some good side here.

  But the girl…she doesn’t deserve this shit. And for some reason, that matters right now.

  “…okay?” Sullivan finishes, and I blink at him as I realize I don’t have a clue what he just said.

  “Uhh…sorry—” I shrug in apology and his frown deepens, but he lets me get away with it.

  “I said I didn’t call you in here to talk about killing him. My daughter starts her second year of college next week, and I can’t have her exposed and unprotected while I hunt for this bastard. I need you to keep her safe until we find the fucker.”

  I blink, and only just catch myself before asking him to repeat it again, sure that between the pounding headache and my dunk confusion, I’ve misunderstood something.

  “I don’t know shit about keeping anyone safe.” I say bluntly, disbelief overriding caution.

  Sullivan just folds his arms and narrows his gaze at me. “You’re good enough at setting up kills - just work out what you’d do, then stop it.”

  That is not how that works.

  Except I don’t say it - because he knows that as well as me. Sullivan may be a lot of things, but he isn’t an idiot, and he knows hitman and bodyguard are two very different skillsets. But the set of his shoulders and the intent look in his eyes makes it clear that he’s going through with this regardless.

  “She’d be far safer if you just brought her in here, boss.” I reason, clutching at anything that might change his mind about this fucking terrible idea. “Surely she won’t mind missing a couple weeks of school if you explain her life is in danger?”

  “She doesn’t know about this - the Irish mob - any of it.” His admission is grim, but it carries a heavy note of warning too, and my stomach turns.

  So what you’re saying is you want me to go play college student while trying to protect your daughter from an unknown threat, without letting her know any of that is going on?

  My outraged expression probably gives away exactly what I’m thinking, but I don’t come close to saying it. It’s obvious that’s exactly what he’s expecting from me, and there’s only so far I can push. Especially with his daughter’s life on the line. I’ve never quite seen Sullivan like this before, and I instinctively know I’m not getting out of this one.

  The last thing I want to do is play bodyguard, but I take my father’s advice and give Sullivan a quick nod instead.

  If you already know your fate, there’s no point fighting. I can process what it means when I’m not hungover as fuck and likely to get myself killed by saying the wrong thing.

  And more than that…the image of Sullivan’s daughter is fresh in my mind, and even if I’m going to make a terrible bodyguard, some part of me refuses to leave her to fend off threats she doesn’t even know about.

  Who knows, maybe a couple of weeks of college life could even be fun - hot girls, awesome parties - the kind of innocent life I’ve never even thought about.

  Sullivan gives me some more details that I hardly pay attention to - time, place, logistics - and then I turn to go, my head feeling like it’s about ready to explode.

  Sullivan’s voice stops me with my hand on the doorknob. “I’m trusting you with my daughter, Caleb. Don’t let me down.”

  Great.

  I give a brief acknowledgment and then walk decidedly away from Sullivan’s office, needing to put some space between me and this crazy plan.

  There’s only one cure for this kind of gods-forsaken hangover.

  More alcohol.

  Chapter Two

  Alana

  I drive past the proud University of North Carolina signs and iconic buildings, smiling at the thought of being back on campus as I pull up in front of the large dorm building that will be my home for the next year.

  There are already a few students and their parents walking around - lugging boxes up stairs and settling into their new accommodations - but not as many as the next few days will bring.

  I’m here a little early, but I like it that way. I get a chance to check out the books I’ll need from the library before the usual rush, read up on my first few classes, and avoid the last-minute panic that usually unfolds. Plus, I get a little time to settle in before the crazy start-of-term parties that always kick off and turn previously respectable dorm rooms into a mess of half-naked bodies, alcohol and chaos.

  That’s not exactly my favorite thing, but I’ve been looking forward to being back on campus all summer, so even that thought can’t deter me as I finally shut off the engine and step out to survey my over-full car.

  Another student-and-mom couple passes me and I feel a little pang as I remember the fun my Mom and I had last year in setting everything up. I’m not the type to get homesick, but it gave me something to cling onto when I was feeling nervous about starting college.

  Now that I’m in my second year I have no reason to be nervous, so when Mom mentioned a conference that she was desperate to go to this weekend, I’d said it wasn’t a problem. And it shouldn’t be a problem. But those slightly awkward-anxious butterflies are back again as I glance up at the stately building and wonder who I’ll be living with this time around.

  C’mon girl, you’re fine - and it can’t be worse than having Bryan around last year.

  I shake off the silly insecurities and remind myself that at least I’ll be seeing Mel and Lily soon. I pull out the first box and look back up at the large building, smiling wryly as I eye the tall windows near the top.

  Of course, I told Mom it was fine before I knew I was on the third floor…

  Convincing myself that the exercise will be good for me, I nudge the trunk closed with my hip and stride over to the main door, which has already been propped open by another a student before me.

  By the time I get to the third floor, I’m not out of breath, but I definitely wish I didn’t have to make this trip twenty times.

  At least you lucked into a single room this year. The ‘college roommate’ experience is definitely not all it’s cracked up to be.

  My eyes dart around the corridor, looking for my room as I walk past the kitchen and common space.

  Thirty-one…thirty-three…thirty-five…

  Shit.

  I stop abruptly as my expected view of thirty-seven is blocked by a man leaning against the doorway. And not just any man.

  The ridiculously-sexy type - with a rough, powerful body and ruggedly handsome face looking back at me. The kind that would make any girl stop and stare. Bright blue eyes, perfectly curved jet-black hair and a line of stubble around his jaw that’s just made for sex. My eyes dart down to check him out before I can stop myself, and it’s immediately obvious that isn’t the only part of him made for sex.

  Fuck me.

  It’s meant to be a curse, but as the thought enters my mind I feel the beginnings of a blush creeping up my neck. Thank god I didn’t say that out loud.

  My eyes dart back to his face, and the cocky grin there tells me he knows what I was looking at - and, hell, maybe what I was thinking, too - and my blush deepens.

  I curse myself for being ridiculous. I don’t act this way around guys. Especially the dangerously attractive ones. They’re always bad news.

  “Ugh, sorry—I was just looking for…” My words stumble over themselves as I fight against my stupid reaction to seeing him standing there in front of me.

  “A room?” He raises one eyebrow, which effortlessly turns devastatingly handsome into sinfully naughty. There’s an amused glint in his eyes and I swear I see him shift a little in the doorway, as if he’s implying…

  “My room.” I say firmly, before quickly adding, “Thirty-nine.”

  His firm lips flicker into an arrogant smile and he gestures further down the hallway. “Well, hon, unless they changed the system mid-hall, that’d be over there…right next to mine.”

  My stomach flutters at whatever he put into that final comment and I force my eyes away from his, moving past with a quick nod and refusing to continue this…whatever this is.

  It’s 11am on my first day back on campus. It’s completely unfair to expect me to deal with such overt sexuality - or my response to it - right now.

  Instead, I juggle the box on my hip as I fish for the key I picked up this morning and push it into the door.

  Just before I open it, I can’t help myself - I glance back in his direction. That fiery-hot gaze is still fixed on me, and my pulse stutters as his lips curl up into a small smirk.

  “Don’t worry, hon. I won’t say a word about whatever I hear happening in there.” He drawls, amusement dancing in his eyes.

  “What?” I start, convinced he didn’t just say that. Then, feeling flustered and outraged simultaneously, I retort without thinking. “Sure - I don’t think anyone’s going to care about my week-long studying marathons.”

  Wait, did I just tell him nothing else happens in here? Well…it doesn’t. But still, no need for him to know the sex-less state of his new neighbor.

  “See? That’s exactly the sort of thing you don’t want getting around.” He shifts, turning towards me with a different kind of light in his eyes. “Though if you want any help—”

  I shove the door open and step in before he can finish that thought, my heart pounding as it slams shut behind me. Yep, definitely didn’t come prepared to be propositioned like that today.

  And what kind of guy thinks it’s okay to talk that way? To someone they’ve just met. Who they’ll be living next to for the rest of the year.

  Ugh…

  I put the box down on my desk and try to control my breathing, reminding myself that I really can’t stand that sort of guy. However hot he might be. Sexy guys always think they can get away with anything - however inappropriate, misguided or just plain stupid it might be. And who wants to be with some full-of-himself, cocky asshole?

  Most of the campus, from what it looks like.

  Yeah, well - not me. He can have his pick of the ridiculous bimbo girls who’ll flatter his ego. Hell, it’s not like he’s actually interested in me anyway. Probably just trying to get a rise out of the flustered, nervous looking girl who came by. Bastard.

  With that resolved, I take a breath and open the door again, hoping that he’ll have disappeared into his room by now.

  Nope. He’s still standing right there. In an empty hallway. There’s literally no reason for him to be stood around like that.

  At least this time, I feel more annoyed at seeing him than overwhelmed.

  “What are you still doing out here?” I glance over as I start to move past, determined not to let him affect me this time.

  You were just surprised last time. Now, you know better.

  Except the roguish smile as he sweeps his hair back from his eyes doesn’t help. “Oh, just waiting.”

  “What for?” I frown, while simultaneously cursing myself for taking the bait.

  “The overprotective parent to come past. Just to give me an idea what I’m up against.” He grins at me as I stare back in disbelief.

  Yeah, typical sexy asshole.

  I manage to refrain from rolling my eyes and start walking past instead. I am so not looking forward to dealing with this all year. Especially with that traitorous part of me still wanting to sneak looks even if he is a jackass.

  He continues as if I’m not trying to leave. “Haven’t seen anyone though. Are you here by yourself?”

  “Yeah.” I glance back, wishing I could bring myself to ignore him. Instead, I get pithy. “Don’t worry, though, I’m more than capable of defending my own honor.”

  I wince internally the moment it comes out. His comments are bad enough - now I’m harking back to the dark ages as well?

  With comments that aren’t even accurate.

  The thought comes as my mind skips back to the two self-defense classes I took once, as I wonder whether I can remember any of them. I think I decided screaming loudly would be a better option. That counts, I’m sure.

  His eyes flick over me again, and I try not to let my body heat as they come back up to my face. “I’d like to see that, hon. But until then…want some help with those boxes?”

  That does get my attention, and I stop to look back, suddenly unsure. Maybe asshole was too hasty. None of the arrogant dicks I know on campus would make an offer like that…even if it might be to get in my pants.

  I hesitate another moment, then the thought of hauling my car-load up here myself - with this guy watching - decides me. “Ah, sure, actually. Thanks.”

  He gives me another smile and gestures me ahead of him, leaving me thoroughly confused as I make my way back down to my car.

  I can feel his eyes on me and my body tingles with an awkward response, ready for…something I’m not going to think about. I don’t even understand what he wants - unless it’s some fucked up ego-boost from screwing his dorm-mate the night she moves in. Either the usual way, or just through mind-fuckery.

  But he doesn’t say anything more as we reach the car, picking up several boxes as if he doesn’t even notice the weight. I look back and forth between him and the car that will very soon be empty if he keeps up that pace, before deciding that he’s not doing it to show off. Feeling more uncertain, I grab my box and we head back up the stairs.

  From the strange intensity that springs up between us as I walk up the stairs, I’m pretty sure he’s staring at my ass. I mean, that’s the reason to let a girl go first, right? And I’m not sure whether to call him out on it or let myself feel flattered. I’m not used to that kind of attention - attractive guys staring at me the way he is…just doesn’t happen.

  At least not since those ugly rumors got around last year…

  I push away the spark of irritation that causes - and any thought about what he may or may not be staring at - and try to break some of the strange tension between us.

  “I’m Alana, by the way.” I shoot him a quick smile in introduction, realizing I don’t even know this guy’s name yet.

  “Caleb.” He nods.

  Okay, not the type to carry much of a conversation.

  “So…what are you majoring in?” I ask over my shoulder, impressed that I’m not breathing heavily yet.

  “Biology.” Caleb replies easily.

  I almost stop on the stairway, and turn to look over at him, cocking my head. “First year?”

  That’s my major, and I don’t recognize him.

  “No, hun. Second.” He shakes his head with a laugh.

  I frown again. “That’s my major too…our class isn’t that big.”

  He comes up behind me and I start walking again before we’re both standing awkwardly.

  “Yeah, I transferred over from Maryland.” His voice has turned conversational now, and as the sexual heat slips from it, I start to relax a little.

  “Ah, okay. What was it like over there?” Now my breathing is getting heavier, but I don’t want to kill the easy conversation, so instead I ask him open, leading questions. He doesn’t seem to be having any trouble with lugging triple my load up these stairs.

  Of course not, with that body…

  Caleb starts talking about Maryland, giving me mostly generic information, but despite asking a few questions, I’m not paying much attention to what he’s saying anymore. Instead, that deep voice washes over me and my mind drifts as I start to reassess my earlier judgment.

  Maybe he’s not as bad as he seemed at first…maybe he just doesn’t have a clue how to speak to women. Hell, judging by the looks of him, I doubt he’s ever had to do much speaking around them before. Living next to him all year could be okay…it might even be quite nice…

  “Thanks for doing this, Caleb. You really didn’t have to.” I interrupt whatever he’s in the middle of talking about as we start up the stairs on our third trip, then feel suddenly awkward at how little attention I’ve been paying. I just liked hearing him speak.

  I give him a crooked smile over my shoulder, but it looks like he hasn’t noticed. Instead, the heat in those eyes are back as they travel down me, and my body gives a light shiver as I turn back to focus on the stairs ahead of me, slightly less steady.

  “Oh, it’s no problem. I’m sure I can find some way for you to return the favor.” Then he winks at me.

  My face flushes and I almost spin on the spot to confront him. He did just want to get in my pants, the asshole.

  “Like, you know…showing me ‘round campus or something?” Caleb continues as if I’m not about to launch into an attack, and his eyes twinkle at me as I stop short.

  He’s obviously teasing me. The bastard. But the mental insult doesn’t have any sting to it as the heat in my face fades into something more pleasant. I only wish I knew more about flirting - it doesn’t seem fair for him to be having all the fun.

  I narrow my gaze at him and answer non-committally. “Mm, maybe.”

  No way will I promise to spend more time with him without thinking about it very carefully.

  He grins back and I shake my head at him.

  As I turn back to the stairs, my foot catches on the top step and my body goes sprawling forwards, the box spilling out of my hands.

  “Hey!” Caleb catches my arm faster than I can think, stopping me from face-planting into the floor, and I look up at him, a little bemused. “You okay?”

  I look at the way he’s shifted all three boxes onto his other arm and knee to grab me with a little confusion, and he slowly lowers me back to the floor, letting me support myself as I nod. “Yeah, thanks.”