Page 56 of Kings of the Campus

“To make her look bad?” Jace offers. “They steal classified info from her and put it out there so she looks incompetent at best and dangerous to talk to at worst.”

A shudder escapes me as I consider the ramifications to my reputation that this will cause. “I can’t have people thinking I’m going to get a target painted on their backs if they talk to me!” I cry out. “As a reporter, all I have is my integrity and my ethics.”

Tears fall again but Devin holds me tightly, whispering little words of comfort in my ear. “We’re going to figure this out,” hesays. “We’re here for you. We’re going to help you figure all this out.”

Something occurs to me as he strokes my hair out of my face. “What if it’s someone in Sigma Theta?” I ask. “Someone currently in the fraternity, I mean.”

Alec shakes his head. “No, it isn’t one of my guys. It can’t be. I’ve worked hard to make sure that only people of decency, who would uphold the highest ethics were allowed back into the fraternity this year.”

“We did several rounds of interviews, including psychological testing,” Jace explains to me. “Alec wanted to make sure that no one in Sigma Theta could pose a danger to the fraternity’s reputation as we worked to rebuild it.”

“It makes sense though,” I protest. “I haven’t been targeted in a year, not since the men responsible were put in jail after the trial. No one came after me. But then this year, when you’ve reopened your doors and I start coming around to check in on you does the stalking start back up.”

“I’m telling you, it’s not a Sigma,” Alec says, frustration lacing his voice. His brows draw together. “You honestly think that after everything we’ve been through we’d be trying to hurt you still?”

“I don’t think it’s one of you guys,” I say, quick to reassure him. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t someone else.”

“We’ve worked hard to change our image,” Devin says, a note of hurt in his voice. “If someone from Sigma was targeting you, it would put the entirety of the fraternity’s future in jeopardy. They wouldn’t do that. Not our brothers.”

I feel irritation creep up and I push away from Devin, needing a little space. “I’m not trying to accuse you, but I do think we need to consider every angle in this situation.”

“It sounds like you’re ready to blame us, once again,” Alec snaps. He pauses and sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face.“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m just as upset about all this as you are. Maybe we should put this aside for the night and revisit it in the morning when we’ve all had a good night’s sleep.”

I stand up, resentment stewing inside me. “You guys aren’t the ones facing the end of your entire future,” I tell them. “I can’t rest right now. Not until I’ve figured out who is targeting me, and why. If you need rest, go ahead but I’m going to go. I need to leave so I can clear my head.”

Jace makes a half-hearted attempt to stop me but I ignore him and walk down the stairs, heading out into the cold.

It’s not my fault the guys are too stubborn to admit that it might be someone in their ranks. I can’t help them come to terms with the fact that there might still be a snake in their midst. A few tears slip out as I leave and I brush them away.

The air is cold enough to sting my cheeks as I walk toward my car, my breath visible in front of me. Just as I approach though, I notice something that has my veins turning to ice.

All four of my tires have been slashed.

33

TESSA

As I stare at the sight before me, my entire body shakes. I can’t call the boys right now, I need to call my best friend.

My hands are unsteady as I dial Valencia’s number, my breath coming in shallow gasps. The sight of my slashed tires feels like a punch to the gut, but it’s the creeping fear that someone’s watching me, waiting to hurt me, that has my chest tightening with panic.

“Pick up, pick up,” I whisper, my voice shaking as the phone rings.

When Valencia’s warm, familiar voice answers, I nearly break down. “Val, I need you. Someone…slashed my tires. I think I’m in danger.”

“What?!” Her voice jumps in alarm. “Where are you? Stay there, I’m coming.”

Minutes stretch like hours until I see Valencia’s car pull up, Matteo in the passenger seat. Relief floods through me as they get out. Matteo crouches down, inspecting the damage. His expression grows grim as he reaches under the windshield wiper and pulls out a piece of paper.

“What’s that?” I ask, the words sticking in my throat.

He glances at me, his face pale. “Tessa, you don’t want to see this.”

My heart hammers against my ribs. “Just tell me.”

He hesitates but hands me the note. The words are scrawled in jagged, angry handwriting:

The next thing to be slashed will be your throat.

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