Page 8 of Merciless Angel

Zane sat on the floor leaning against my door. The flower bouquet from earlier lay on the floor next to him. He stared at his phone. Glancing up at my arrival, he shoved the phone into his pocket and scrambled to his feet.

This had to be a horrible joke. I was not in the mood for more of Zane. Did Blaze know he was in here? Or had he been following me while I was out with Raina? Neither possibility made me feel good.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me, and I understand that. Please, give me a chance to tell you how sorry I am.” Zane held up both hands, pleading with me. It made him even more pathetic than I already thought he was.

Wary of Blaze outside, I wanted nothing more than to lock myself in my room. Alone. I didn’t trust Blaze not to gain access to the building. Only residents had a key. That hadn’t stopped Zane from getting inside. He was on summer break and no longer living here.

“It doesn’t matter, Zane,” I said, glancing nervously back the way I’d come. “I don’t want to see you anymore. I think it’s best if you leave.”

Zane’s expression morphed from pleading to desperate panic. “Please, Clover. I love you. I want to be with you. It was one mistake. Please don’t hold that against me.”

A sick sensation filled me at his words. He thought that was love?

“I’m going into my room now,” I said, inching closer to the door. I didn’t want him in my personal space. “You need to leave.”

“Seriously? Just like that? One mistake and it’s over?” Zane’s voice began to rise. My panic rose along with it.

I said nothing, waiting for him to leave so I could enter my room. I didn’t trust him not to barge in with me. It was safer in the hallway.

Zane’s face reddened. In a burst of temper, he kicked the flowers that still lay on the floor. They flew several feet, petals falling off as they came apart.

“Fine. Fuck you too, Clover. I can’t believe I wasted so much time on you.” He stormed down the hall, muttering, “Fucking bitch.”

When he was gone, I released the breath I’d been holding and let myself into my room. Making sure the door was locked, I leaned against it and sighed. Tears stung my eyes. I blinked them back. He wasn’t worth it.

Shoving away from the door, I went to the window and peered out. My view was the front of the building and part of the parking lot. The silver Camaro was gone. I watched Zane leave the building and get into a black sedan.

I flopped down on my bed wondering who I should fear most. Zane or Blaze? Something told me that despite his actions at the party, it should be Blaze.

CHAPTER FOUR

CLOVER

Several hours after Zane left, I found myself craving something sweet. I’d finished my taco leftovers while watching Bridgerton on my iPad. It started to get late. The sun was beginning to set. I should have been getting ready for bed but my mind raced too fast for sleep. So snacks it was.

I rolled off my bed and tugged on a pair of bright yellow sweatpants and a white crop top. It was far too warm out for a hoodie so I left it behind. Slinging my fuzzy pink purse over my shoulder, I cracked open my door. Relief filled me when I found the hallway empty.

There was a small convenience store across the street and down a block. It was barely a five minute walk from the dorm residence. I’d stock up on snacks there and make it back in time to watch another episode before attempting sleep.

As I left the building, I surveyed my surroundings. No sign of Zane or Blaze. Good. I didn’t want to deal with either of them.

I crossed the street at the light near the building. Traffic was thinning at this time of night. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on something with nuts and chocolate. Maybe some cheese puffs too. I could always go for cheese puffs.

The convenience store was almost empty when I got there. Only two other people perused the aisles. One guy popped in for cigarettes and was gone before I reached the cashier. I placed my things on the counter and dug out my debit card. After paying for my goods, my snacks and I headed out into the parking lot.

Right away the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. A man standing near the lone pay phone at the end of the building stared at me. Hard. Did people still use pay phones?

My skin began to prickle with goosebumps. In my peripheral view, I saw the man start toward me. I quickened my pace.

“Hey, baby,” he called after me. “What’s the hurry?”

Ignoring him, I kept going. What was going on here lately? Had I become a magnet for screwed up men?

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” Refusing to take a hint, the man hurried after me.

I started to run. He ran too. His strides were faster, his legs longer. He grabbed my arm and jerked me backwards. Covering my mouth with his other hand, he dragged me across the parking lot.

His hand smelled of cigarettes and car oil. A bitter stench that choked me. I flailed and struggled to get away. It was no use. He easily pulled me behind the building. Only a small service alley backed the convenience store. My scream was muffled by his hand.