Black Promises (Blackwoods College)

“I hope you’re right, freak.”

His smile was sad. Beautiful, but sad.

I opened the door. “I’m going back inside.”

“We haven’t talked about the detective.”

“She called. My story matched yours. She seemed satisfied.”

“She won’t be.”

“I know that.” I got out and shut the door.

He rolled down the window. “We’ll meet tomorrow on campus.”

“All right,” I said, feeling exhausted. “Only if you promise to keep your hands to yourself. Or if you promise to take it all the way next time.”

His lips quirked.

“All right, baby girl. The next time I touch you, I swear I’ll fuck you. How’s that? Do you feel better?”

I didn’t, not at all.

“Goodnight, Jarrod.” I walked back to the house.

His truck fired up and pulled away.

My burner buzzed as I reached the door. I hesitated but took it out, figuring it was Jarrod getting the last word.

Instead, it was a number I didn’t recognize.

3135555: Meet me outside of Wawa near campus at midnight.

Cora: Who the heck is this???

3135555: Calvin.

I dropped the phone. It clattered to the ground. The cheap glass screen was spider-webbed and cracked.

Calvin had my burner number.

How the hell did Calvin have my burner number?

I fumbled with my broken phone.

Cora: Okay. Midnight at Wawa.

He didn’t reply again.

21

Cora

I rode my bike while wrapped in a heavy black down jacket with thick gloves on my hands and a scarf tied around my face. I blinked back tears from the bitter, freezing wind, as I pedaled toward campus.

I had to leave at like 11:30 to make it by midnight. There wasn’t much traffic, and I coasted down the ghost-like streets toward Blackwoods campus, cursing myself the whole time, and promising that I’d never, ever, ever get involved with another Horseman as long as I lived.

The Wawa was open twenty-four-seven and located on a corner across the street from the campus’s main gates. The administration would never let a lowly place such as Wawa within the actual proximity of the college itself, but students practically kept the place in business. They showed up late night to eat bad sandwiches and buy cigarettes and hang around in the parking lot like loitering teens. The Wawa was like the second most popular place, after that cheap bar a couple blocks over that never checked IDs.

I parked my bike and looked around. There weren’t many students, just a small group of drunk girls laughing loudly with each other, and several guys waiting for sandwiches. I didn’t see Calvin anywhere, and paced across the front sidewalk, toward the side of the building. The shadows were deep back there, and I drifted into them, thinking I could hide from this—and avoid the confrontation I truly didn’t want to have.

Except when I turned to look over my shoulder, there he was, lingering in the parking lot like a demon.

I leaned my bike against the wall and waited as he approached. He wore a sweatshirt and jeans with the hood pulled up. If I weren’t expecting him, I might not have recognized him. He stopped a few paces across from me, hands shoved in his pouched, and tilted his chin up toward the light.

He stared at me with dead eyes.

“Let’s walk.”

I opened my mouth to argue but he strode off. I cursed and had to decide: bring the bike or leave it. I hurried after him, hoping nobody would take it.

He cut across the street and toward campus.

“Wait up.” I jogged until I was level with him. “What are we doing?”

He didn’t answer. We cut down the main gate and made a right onto the grass and into the line of trees that blocked the outside world from the little paradise that was Blackwoods. Campus was an oasis in the middle of town, its own little kingdom separated from the real world. Most of the time, I loved it—I could pretend like I was attending Hogwarts or something—but right now it scared the hell out of me.

I was very much alone with Calvin and I didn’t know what he wanted.

Worst-case scenarios played through my head.

He wanted to kill me. He wanted to blackmail me. He wanted to use me to hurt Jarrod.

Calvin stopped and turned back, hands still shoved in his pouch.

I stopped a few feet away, afraid of getting any closer.

“How did you get that number?” I asked the first question that popped into my mind.

He pulled back his hood and ran a hand through his hair.

“I stole Jarrod’s phone.” He said it like it was no big deal.

“That’s crazy. I thought you were his friend.”

“Jarrod’s idea of friendship is slightly twisted.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Calvin’s lips pressed together. “He keeps things from the rest of us. Burner phones, decoy laptops. He likes to compartmentalize.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re not the first girl he bought a burner for.”

My mouth opened then snapped shut. “I don’t care who he used to fuck.”