Page 3 of Kept By the Loan Shark

After Kyle left, I finished grading the last few exams. I had noticed a theme across more than half of the exams and made a note to the instructor about the physics concepts his students didn’t seem to grasp. I made sure the note was succinct, just ten words. Dr. Plotkin wouldn’t read a note any longer than that.

I sent a quick text to Hagen, letting him know I was done, and then I delivered the graded papers to Dr. Plotkin’s desk, placing them in the correct tray and orienting them so they could be read from his chair. Once that was done, I clocked out, logged off and grabbed my backpack. On my way out of the building, I pulled my phone from the pocket of my jeans and swiped my thumb across the screen.

Hagen:Headed your way

Certain traffic would be hell, I found a shady spot on a bench near our designated pickup area. My gaze drifted to the bulletin board littered with flyers for roommates, used things for sale and MLM opportunities. The tattered, faded flyers for two of the missing women caught my eye.

Like so many fans of crime shows and podcasts, I had done my own sleuthing about the cases, wondering if there was a pattern among the missing girls. Other than being students here, they shared no other similarities. They were different races, heights and builds. Three of them were science students. Two were in liberal arts. The other two were in business and engineering. It would have been less worrying if they had all shared similar looks or interests. At least then we would know why they had been chosen.

If they had been chosen.

The police seemed to believe that most of the missing women had left Houston of their own free will. Some of them were on the verge of failing out of school. A couple of them had just been through horrible breakups.

It was unsettling to think that someone was hunting vulnerable women. Was it another student? A professor? Some random weirdo who had a thing for college-aged girls? Glancing around at the women walking to and from class, I couldn’t help but wonder if the next victim was among them. I suddenly had the morbid thought that it might be me.

Shuddering and refusing to give that line of thought another second, I opened Instagram as a distraction. As I scrolled, I enviously eyed the curvy fitness influencers I followed. I had been trying a workout routine that promised a Brazilian butt lift without surgery, but my sad little booty hadn’t shown much improvement. My legs looked leaner, more defined, but I hadn’t developed the curves I craved. It was hard to embrace my thin, ballerina-like frame when the world seemed to favor lush bombshell figures.

Thankfully, Hagen didn’t seem to mind my lack of assets. The few times I had been self-conscious about my small breasts or bottom, he had gone out of his way to show me how much he enjoyed and appreciated those parts of me. He would use his hands and mouth in the wickedest, dirtiest ways until I couldn’t even look at him without blushing. When we were together, I felt gorgeous and sexy and completely worthy of his love and adoration.

When I had walked into the back room of his bar to try to save my brother, Ronnie, from a gambling debt, I had never expected to meet a man who would sweep me off my feet. Dark, brooding and big, Hagen was the complete opposite of the men I normally dated. He had taken one look at me and had decided I was meant to be his.

When the black Navigator rolled up to the curb, I tucked away my phone and grabbed my backpack. Looking devastatingly handsome in his crisp white shirt and mirrored aviators, Hagen rolled down the front passenger window and called out, “Hey, sweetheart, I’m lost. You wouldn’t happen to have the directions to your heart?”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. He enjoyed teasing me with silly pickup lines, each one worse than the last. “That was awful.”

He laughed and leaned across the console to kiss me. He tasted like sugar and spearmint, the cool after burn of his favorite mints heating my lips. “Buckle up.”

After I fastened my seatbelt, he grabbed my backpack and placed it on the floorboard behind us. He made a face, and I knew what was coming. “I’m not replacing it. It’s still perfectly good.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your face did.”

“Yeah? What’s this face saying?”

I lost it when I saw the ridiculous expression he was making. “Stop!”

Still laughing, he merged into traffic and reached across the console to interlace our fingers. Even after all the times he had held my hand, I still marveled at the size differences between us. I barely stood an inch over five feet, and he towered over me by a foot and five inches. We garnered second glances whenever we were out together, but I had stopped noticing most of them. Only Taylor had been bold enough to ask how our height disparity worked in the bedroom, but I was certain she wasn’t the only one who wondered.

“How was your day?”

“I had a moment in my math class when I wanted to cry, but other than that, it was fine.”

“What? Why? Was your professor an asshole again?” His protective instincts flared, and it made my insides melt.

“No, it was a topology concept that gave me a headache, but Kyle came through with a much easier to follow explanation that helped me nail it.”

“Kyle saved the day, huh?”

“Hagen,” I sighed, “you know he’s just a friend.”

“Does he know that? Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you—”

“He’s dating someone,” I cut in.

“Is she real?”

“Be nice!” I swatted his muscular thigh. “I don’t know why you dislike him so much.”

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