Page 37 of Shadowed Whispers

For a moment, we stay entwined, our harsh breathing the only sound in the room. Slowly, he pulls out and stands me up. Heat floods my cheeks as I try to fix myself while avoiding eye contact with him.

The smug smirk on his face makes it hard to deny what just transpired. “That was... unfinished business,” he states casually, adjusting his pants.

“Yeah, well, consider it done.” I tug on my skirt angrily. “We’re even now.”

He flashes me a knowing grin. “Francesca,” he drawls, “we both know that was just the beginning.”

Shit. Cum spills out of me. He’s lucky I’m on the pill.

I turn around to leave him, but he grips my arm, tugging me back. “I want my cum in you when you go back to your dorm room. I want it dripping down your legs when you see Tori.” His smile is cruel. “Then, when I visit her later, I want to smell my cum on you.”

I jerk out of his hold. “Fuck you, Bishop.”

Anger seizes me as I grab my backpack and leave his class. My cheeks burn with embarrassment. Like hell.

The first thing I’m doing is telling Tori.

Chapter 13

Frankie

Mondays are the universe’s way of punishing us for enjoying the weekend. When I finally escape the clutches of math class, the hallways are a symphony of groans and eye rolls over the injustice of it all. Honestly, I don’t get the drama. Monday is a shiny new start, a clean slate, until it inevitably descends into chaos, like today.

Keeping my head down, I slip out of the building, hopefully unseen, and dart between structures where the heavy coverage from overgrown blackberry bushes offers concealment. I need a shower, and I need to figure out exactly what I’m going to say to Tori. Guilt rolls through my stomach. She said they were dating, but I thought she only said that because she was interested in him. I hope he was just leading me on, and that they aren’t something more. I don’t like Tori, we’ve never gotten along, but I’m still a girl’s girl, and Bishop Mercer is going to get what’s coming to him.

Even now, as I move from building to building, hiding from Leo and Matteo with Bishop’s dried seed in my panties, I know the right thing to do is to say something, even if she scoffs at me, which she probably will.

My only hope is to get to our room before Bishop, where I can have a conversation with Tori alone. I could probably fake an emergency if needed, but no, I just need to go to the room.

The tower looms ahead. It’s both my favorite place on campus and the one I’m currently hiding from. Since when have I ever shied away from confrontation? My subconscious whispers to me, taunting me. It’s also correct. Why am I so hung up on this? Because I actually feel guilty. Unlike the other two girls, Tori is tolerable. She’s annoying, sure, and she has that big fish in a small pond mentality, but she isn’t cruel like Chloe or Amanda.

She can be cruel though.

I slip through the back door, where the salty breeze from the ocean mingles with the wild chatter of students. The cacophony hits me like a wave, each voice a piercing reminder of the world I’m trying to avoid. It’s as if every single junior rushed back here after classes. Lucky me. Screw it. Rolling my shoulders back, I begin my ascent up the spiral walkway. When I pass multiple people and they don’t look at me, I feel a little better—not like everyone is going to look at me, point, and laugh while taunting, I know what you did.

I rush to our room, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I tap my feet impatiently, waiting for the door to unlock. Every second feels stretched, filled with dread and urgency. When it blinks green, I slip inside and slam the door shut behind me. I inhale too fast, making myself dizzy as I fall back against the door and look around our dorm room. I’m alone. I just need my shower caddy, and then I’m good to go. Dropping my book bag on my desk, I turn to my closet and begin to pull out clothing.

Laughter rolls through the room, underscored by an unmistakable titter. As the door clicks open, Tori storms in, mid-conversation on her phone, her tone sharp even from a distance. I can’t make out the words over the clamor in my head until she ends the call with a clipped, “We’ll see about that.” Then, she notices me.

“What do you want?” she snaps, her irritation clear as she tosses her phone onto the bed with a little more force than necessary. She stands rigid, her posture broadcasting her readiness for a confrontation, her previous joviality on the phone nowhere to be seen.

Just say it, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

“So you two are officially an item? You and Bishop?” I blurt out, kicking myself internally. All I did was make myself look more desperate to know about Bishop. Smooth move, Frankie.

Her stance changes in a heartbeat, her posture straightening as if she’s gearing up for a fight. “Yes,” Tori clips out, but there’s a tiny twitch in her eye that screams she isn’t as sure as she sounds.

Tilting my head to the side, I catch a micro-expression—a frown. I think she’s lying.

I hum under my breath. “Oh no,” I drawl and chew on my lip.

“What?” she snaps, dropping her arms to her sides. She looks away, tossing her phone on her bed. “What’s it to you?”

“Oh, nothing. I just thought I saw him with someone earlier.”

Tori launches herself at me, her hands snapping to my arms, and she digs her fingernails into my skin through my sweater. “Who?”

“I swear I saw him with someone with dark hair in the computer lab,” I say. I’m not lying, but I’m also fishing. I want to know how serious they are.

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