Page 2 of The Wallflower

I want very few things in life. Given my money and my father's legacy, there is nothing I can't have except this: the perfect chase.

It disturbs me how much I need it. How much I've thought about nothing else recently. Maybe tomorrow will be the night. When you have as little control over your life and the things that happen in it as I do, something as simple as a little chase in the woods can make or break you. It’s one singular thingIhave a choice about.

I clench my fists again and stand, shoving off my pants and tossing the rest of my kit into my locker. Shower first, then I have a nerd to hunt down. I check my phone again, and I’m not surprised when there's no response to my text. The little shit will regret keeping me waiting. I paid him five hundred up front for that paper, and if he thinks he can stiff me, he's sorely mistaken.

It doesn't take me long to shower and throw my wash into the designated bags. I make sure to shoulder-check the glowering teammate who thought he could take me on the way out. Ruckus or Tucker, maybe. I don't remember his name.

The guys watch me go and say nothing as I head out, hair still wet, in my hoodie and jeans. On the way through the training center to outside, I shoot the little asshole a text telling him to respond before I hunt him down and beat the shit out of him.

I stop to fill my water bottle from a fountain on the path while I wait for him to respond. The idiot reads the text but doesn't answer. If that's how he wants to play it, so be it.Unfortunately, some people aren’t nearly as intelligent as they think. I don’t pay nerds to do the work because I can’t do it myself. I pay them because it’s easier to have someone else do it. I don’t have time to waste on writing papers or doing research. But it only works if the person I hire actually does the work.

I stalk across the quad, heading toward the place I first found him: the library. It's not even a half mile, and the slight chill in the air cools the simmering rage in my veins into something sharper and more sinister as I walk.

A flitty little blonde rushes up to my side, matching my pace to talk to me. "Drew, I heard that tomorrow is the big night."

I give her little more than a grunt of agreement. "So?"

She bats her long, fake eyelashes, now practically running to match my long stride. "Well, I was hoping for an invitation. I have some friends I could bring along for some fun."

I stop, and the halt makes her lose her balance. I wait to see if she falls, but she doesn't. "What kind of friends?"

Out of breath now, her smile widens. "Oh, I have alotof friends. I guess it depends on the type you’re after?”

I narrow my eyes and scan down her low-cut top and skintight leggings. She’s dressed as if she’s ready to go frolicking through the woods at this very moment. "How about someone with a little innocence? Know anyone like that?"

She taps her chin, considering what I’ve asked, but her eyes have a knowing twinkle. "Well, I have a few who might fit. I'll ask them to come in exchange for an invitation of my own and some tips on how to bag one of your crew."

I tip her chin up gently, towering over her, and lean in. "Sure, come along, but you'll have to figure out how to catch their eye on your own."

Not so gently, I shove her back a few steps. "Meet at the Mill House at sunset, tomorrow."

I walk away without looking back. There's a small chance she might have what I'm looking for, but it sure as hell isn't her.

The rest of the walk to the library is uneventful, mostly because everyone else on the path takes one look at my scowl and doesn't even try to approach me. Good, that’s how I like it. I keep up the nice guy image for appearances only, but I’m about as nice as a crocodile that hasn’t eaten in months.

I take the stairs to the library entry two at a time and push through the glass doors. It's a big space, being the only library on campus, so it might take time to find the scrawny little fucker. Especially if he’s doing his damnedest to hide from me.

I stalk through the stacks first, slowly. My approach sends a few people scurrying out of my way, which is fine. No one catches my eye, and I slow my pace so I don't miss him between a row of shelves.

Once I reach the far side of the library, I move to the other side and begin searching the little study nooks dotting the area. A group of tittering girls spots me in the distance, and I can hear their chatter as they dare each other to come and speak to me. I ignore their existence.

A few other people are spread around, and a professor tucked up into a glass cage in the back. No scrawny little nerd in sight, though. My patience is growing thinner by the second. If he doesn’t want me to murder him, he’ll make an appearance soon.

Frustrated, I tug my cell phone out of my pocket and shoot off a quick text. It only takes a second to hear the ding in the mostly quiet space. A smile tugs at my lips.

Gotcha, you little fuck.

I scan the space where I heard the sound until I spot him. He's staring at his screen, looking appropriately scared. Good. He should be scared. I stalk around the backside of the stacks and come up behind him.

It takes seconds to grab him by the scruff of his sweater and drag him between the shelves. "Hello, Mark. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re avoiding me. Because you forgot to send me something today?"

He sputters, his phone slipping from his hand to clatter on the worn carpet. Whirling around, he appears baffled. "No, no. I was… I’m not avoiding you. I’m just proofreading your essay. I didn't forget to send it."

"I'm pretty sure it was supposed to be delivered this morning. When I give you a deadline, I expect it to be met. Now, I have to worry about getting my assignment in on time. Which isn't something I should have to worry about, especially when I've already fucking paid you."

I give him a hard shove into the stack of books. He whimpers and turns his head to the side, likely hoping to protect his face.

“I’d love to let you go without any consequences, but that would set aterribleprecedent for any future nerds I hire.” Minding the distance of the shelf behind me, I jerk back to deliver a punch in the gut when I hear a gasp to my right from deeper in the stacks.

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