Chapter Three

Storm

 

 

 

 

I haven't been able to get Rebecca out of my head since we left the school earlier. I even had Brick look her up, but he really couldn't find much before a few years ago. He did find out that she was living on campus with a friend of hers for the past three years. She is smart as hell and will be graduating soon.

Other than that Rebecca Maxwell is a complete mystery, which only makes me more intrigued.

Driving through her neighborhood, it looks like a typical college campus. Its eleven at night on Saturday so anyone who is out right now is making their way home from a party or heading off to another one. I would say I'm driving around here to check out the neighborhood, but I'm looking for her. Hoping to run into her again and see if the teacher is reserved outside of school.

I hear a scream, and I look down to see a girl on her knees next to a house. The guy next to her bends down his arm encircling her waist as he lifts her to his feet. He slings her arm around his neck, and he is carrying her to a waiting car, her feet barely skimming the pavement. I turn my bike off as I try to make sure this situation is what I'm assuming.

Her foot catches on a crack in the pavement, and he almost drops her. When he brushes the hair away from her face, I freeze. It's Rebecca. He leans her against the car as he digs into his pocket for the keys. Over my dead fucking body.

I move off the bike, and within seconds I'm next to them. Bending down I look into her eyes which are already half closed. "Rebecca?" she tries to lift her head at the sound of my voice, but it falls. Fucker must have slipped her something.

"Can I help you? My girl had too much to drink, and I'm taking her home." The cocky shit looks at me as if I'm something stuck on the bottom of his shoe.

“The fuck you are. You value your life and your pretty fucking face you walk away now.” I stand tall next to him daring him to test me at this point. He seems to consider trying me but wisely decided against it.

"Fuck this shit; you can have her." He waves his hand at the girl whose legs are barely holding her up against the car right now.

I bend down and scoop her up into my arms. Richie rich walks around the car and pulls away from the house. I look at his license plate and commit it to memory because this shit is far from done.

Rebecca rests her head against my chest as a small sigh escapes her lips. The shirt dress she has on rides up a bit so I make sure to hold her so that nothing can be seen. Looking at where I am I realize her place is only a couple blocks from here. There's no way I can put her on my bike like this, so I start to walk back to her apartment. I get a few looks from people, but no one says anything. I know I stand out like a sore thumb here.

Once I get to her building, I realize I didn't check to see if she had keys. I notice a small purse wrapped around the wrist that's pressed against my chest. Please have your keys on you. I shift her weight so its mostly on my left arm while I use my right hand to unzip her bag the silver shine of a key has me breathing a sigh of relief. 

I get her into the building and then find her apartment, thank God I had Brick look her up, or I would have had no idea where to take her. Opening the door, I walk down a hallway hoping to find her room. The first one I walk into has pictures everywhere, but most of them aren't her. I decide to try the other one. It's plain except for on picture on the bedside table. She is standing in front of a waterfall flexing, and there is a guy standing with her. Something boils inside of me at the fact that she's with another guy in this picture. She may not belong to me, but right now I want to have her. I lay her down on the bed and pull the covers up knowing she'll be cold in the tiny scrap of fabric she's wearing. A buzz sounds on the table, and I see that it's her phone.

Didn't she have it with her? I need to talk to her about shit like this; it isn't safe. The message is from someone named Sara. There are five in a row asking where she is and if she's okay. I press the screen, but it prompts me for a passcode or fingerprint. Glancing over at the sleeping angel I take her hand and touch her thumb to the sensor making the phone light up. Clicking the message from her friend I reply that she's okay and at home.

Before I can put down something else catches my eye. She has fifteen messages from someone named Pat. I don't open them, but the last one says, ‘just want to know you're okay sister.' I release a breath that I didn't know I was holding. Glancing over at the picture I smile.

I take a seat at the chair in the corner of her room. She turns in the bed a yawn escaping her mouth.

See you in the morning Angel.