Breaking You (Blackthorn Elite 2)

My walk to the apartment is short and uninterrupted, and I use the time to try and clear my head. The clearing of my head was pointless though, because as soon as I walk up to my apartment door, I immediately know that something is wrong.

I know for a fact that I locked my door this morning. I always double and triple check to make sure the doors are locked. You can never be too sure in this neighborhood. Taking in that the door is cracked open a few inches, I know someone broke in.

Like the idiot I am, I don’t call the cops or think about calling anyone at all because let’s be honest, who would care anyway? Taking a cautious step forward, I push the door open and peer into my tiny apartment.

My heart is racing in my chest so hard it feels like it’s trying to escape. I take a couple calming breaths in an attempt to get my breathing under control and in turn, my heart rate.

Stay calm. I tell myself and try and rationalize the situation. Who would break into my apartment? Don’t they know I don’t own anything of importance?

Holding my breath, I listen for any noise, maybe the intruder is still here. Panic seizes me, and I almost take a step back out of instinct. No. This is my home. This is all I have. Calming myself once more and after a short while of not hearing anything, I step closer, crossing the threshold and stepping into the room.

Like a detective, my eyes scan the room for any details. The books on my small bookshelf above the bed have been knocked down, the bed that was made up this morning is disheveled, and the drawers of my dresser are all opened with the contents poured out on the floor. It doesn’t look like anything is missing, but like someone went through all my stuff. Shutting the door behind me, I close myself inside the room.

Who would want to hurt me?

Warren. Of course, he would do something like this. Ever since my first day here, he’s tried to scare me into leaving. I’ll bet this was nothing more than another tactic to get me to leave. Ha, jokes on him. I’m not going anywhere. I wasn’t before, but I’m definitely not now.

7

Warren

“What do you need this info for anyway?” Damon questions, curiously. His mom works in the administration office, so I had him go in and get all the info on Harper for me. It would’ve been easier had I asked Parker, but that would mean talking to him about Harper, and I’m not ready to do that yet.

“Don’t ask questions, just give me the fucking papers I asked for.” He hands me the papers, and I snatch them from his hand, almost ripping them. Right then and there, I start to read over the information. I’m only a couple sentences in when I realize Damon is still standing there, his eyes trained on me.

“What?” I bark, on the verge of losing my temper.

“I was just wondering who she was? I know her name is Harper, but…” The rest of the words never get a chance to pass his lips because my hand wraps around his throat, cutting off his words and air. When it comes to Harper, I’ll hurt anyone I have to. The only person that is going to own her, or hurt her, is me.

Getting right in his face, I snarl, “Don’t fucking say her name. Don’t even think about her. Forget I even had you do this for me because if you don’t, I’ll make you forget.”

Damon’s eyes bulge out of his face, and he somehow manages to nod his head. Releasing him with a shove that sends him staggering backward, I fist the paper in my other hand and turn and start walking away. Once I reach the mess hall, I lean against the cold brick and uncrumple the paper. As I read over the information, a smile forms on my lips.

This is the exact ammunition I needed to trap her and keep her right where I want. By living off-campus, she’s violating her scholarship. According to this paper, she gets money specifically for campus housing, but she has been misusing those funds, living in that shitty apartment instead… Oh, things aren’t looking good for my girl.

My girl. I scoff at the thought. She is mine, but she isn’t a girl, she is all woman now. I wonder how she’ll react when I tell her that I know her secret.

Grabbing my phone out of my pocket, I pull up her class schedule. She is about to get off for the rest of the day. I have another late class, but I can skip it and still manage to pass. I’m already getting A.