Vengeful Heart: Fighting Heart Erotic Bad Boy Romance Series Book 3 (12 page)

Brandon Lynes sat at home on Friday afternoon. He’d skipped classes again, so when the phone call came, he guessed it was the Elizabethan Studies bitch, Professor Nurding, wanting to spook him about his grades. As soon as Brandon wanted to produce an A grade essay, he would. He could do it at any time. But he wasn’t going to do it just because some frigid-arse woman who liked frilly collars and codpieces too much was giving him a hard time. He’d get there. It was just that Brandon had been busy visiting some of his fans lately. His adoring fans. Luke liked making some of these trips too, because the lucky guy got to eat the crumbs that fell from the table. Brandon always had the lion’s share and the first choice of the girls because he was the star and Luke, like it or not, was his lackey. He wouldn’t use such a word in front of his flat mate’s face, no. That wasn’t polite, was it? But Brandon liked to be a realist and saw the world as it was. He was the one the female readers wanted to see. Luke was there to keep the unlucky ones amused.

Last weekend had been fantastic, for instance. Brandon had hooked up with one of his fans from the Facebook page, a great stomping ground for potential dalliances. This one was called Rita, for fuck’s sake. He thought she was going to look like his grandmother, but when he clicked on her profile picture he saw she was a stunning brunette with wavy brown hair and she lived in Kent. Not far, not far at all. He told her he was thinking of doing some book promotions nearby that weekend, and did she want to meet up to discuss his writing? Maybe he could sign one of her books. Rita loved that idea. Could Rita bring a friend? Why, certainly. The more the merrier.  Rita suggested a coffee shop, and Brandon suggested a bar. Then with the power of his burgeoning wallet, and the magic word, champagne, he was able to get three women merrily excited and in awe of his good looks. The rest, they say, was history.  Brandon had fun with Rita that night and then dragged her best friend into the mix. Luke got the other girl. At least he got one, thought Brandon. It turned out that Rita was married, but married girls were still girls after all, and what did a couple of hours in bed with a star mean for her marriage? Nothing. It meant she had a sexy memory to treasure. Who needed to commit any further adultery after that? Brandon decided he’d probably done the husband a favour, long term.

When he picked the phone up, still remembering Rita, and wondering who he might meet in the next few weeks, he answered ready to dismiss Professor Nurding with a few cursory words. But it wasn’t Professor Nurding. It was Dean Jonathan Mayhew, and all of a sudden memories of Rita faded to grey.

“Yes, Jonathan?”

“Dean Jonathan. I’m the Dean, Mr Lynes, and you had better understand that in terms of what happens next.”

Brandon sat upright in his chair and listened carefully, his heart thudding the whole way through the call. He made affirmative noises when he had to. He made negative noises when appropriate. At the end of the call, the Dean asked. “Is that clear? You understand what that means for you and this college?”

Brandon was in shock. His eyes wide open.

“I understand… I understand that you wish to ruin your friendship with my father, and get some literary controversy going so your college gets in the news again. Is that right?”

“No, Mr Lynes. I am suspending you from study this year because of two very serious problems. One, you have been proven to have an abusive relationship with a fellow student at Smiths…”

“Bullshit!”

“And two, you have seriously neglected your studies. I have your reports in my hand, Mr Lynes. As for your father, he is my friend, not you. It’s difficult, but I will explain my job to him if I must. As for any supposed controversy, Mr Lynes, one must never fall victim to hubris. Pride comes before a fall. And I am afraid this is your fall. Take your medicine and deal with your problems like a man and you’ll still come out of this well. A student welfare officer will be in touch.”

“I wish to appeal your decision.”

“You may… But in all likelihood, things could get worse for you if you do.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, Mr Lynes. Threats are not my business, though apparently they are yours. Which is how we have arrived at this point in the first place, I think you’ll agree.”

Brandon put the receiver down. The front door slammed and two chatting voices filled the hallway beyond his room. He heard them coming. Luke peered in and his smile vanished when he saw Brandon’s face. Amanda was smiling guardedly. Her pretty smile fell in an instant.

“Where is she?” said Brandon. He looked at both of them.

“She was in meetings today,” said Amanda. “I couldn’t hang around all day waiting for her.”

“It’s true, Brandon. Ashley seems to be in demand today. If we let her slip for one day, we can catch up with her tonight and give her a talking to.”

“Yeah. A talking to. I’d like to do that. Amanda, go and make me a drink, please. Luke, come in and shut the door.”

Amanda’s face grew serious and she walked away. Luke did as he was asked.

“What is it Brandon?”

“That bitch. She must have told them I attacked her or something. They’ve given her story some kind of credence.”

“What do you mean?”

“The college are kicking me out. They listen to that cheap slut after she’s done me for nine grand and thrown herself at every guy going… then they kick me out.”

The girl hadn’t thrown herself at everyone. She’d never been near Luke or any others in their crew. But he nodded anyway.

“Bitch,” said Luke. “What about her?”

“They didn’t mention her. It was all about me.”

“They can’t kick you out man, you’re their star.”

“It’s a fact, Luke. The letter’s in the post. They said I can come back next year. In their dreams, dude. I will never set foot in that college again – not until Dean Mayhew is gone and I get a full letter of apology, maybe even a pay-out. Who knows?”

“What about the girl?”

“I told Ashley what would happen if she messed with me, Luke. Clearly, she didn’t believe me. For some reason she must think I’m the kind of guy who makes idle threats.” Brandon shook his head. “Right now I’ve got all the motivation I need and then some. And without the college on my back, I have time to do this revenge thing some justice.”

The door opened, and Amanda walked in carrying a tall glass of lemonade and a sandwich.

“We were talking. Make sure you knock next time!” snapped Brandon.

“I made you a sandwich.”

“Yeah, I see. Luke. You eat it, I’ve lost my appetite.”

Amanda’s face was serious.

When Amanda was in the kitchen her phone had buzzed with a text. When she read it, she had put a hand over her mouth in shock.
I’m not coming back tonight. Don’t worry, the master plan is in action. When the college offer to help you, take it. In touch soon. X

Then she deleted the text in case Brandon found it.

“Ashley just called me, Brandon. She’s not coming back tonight.”

Amanda waited for the explosion, but it never came.

“Figures. Go and wait outside until Luke and I are done here. I don’t want you listening in, either.”

“What do you take me for?” said Amanda.

“These days, I’m not so sure. Go and wait outside.”

When she was gone Brandon sipped his drink and started talking again.

“The college are going to keep her safe from me. She’ll think she’s won.
In her dreams
.”

“What are you going to do?”

“We’re going on a little road trip. We’re going to pay a visit to her little brother.”

Luke didn’t like the sound of that at all. But he smiled all the same, to show Brandon he thought it was the best idea he’d ever heard…

The story continues in Fighting Heart 4: Burning Heart

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As soon as the student support people came through for me I moved out of Tom Ridgley’s apartment. They fixed up a one bedroom place for me in New Cross, not far from where I’d been living with Bess and the other girls when I first arrived at college - just before Brandon whisked me off my feet then dumped me on my ass.  Living with Ridgley had offered its finer moments, like a great big comfortable bed shared with a man who was fit and mature, clever and experienced, but there were plenty of downsides too. The Prof proved to be totally paranoid about his neighbours seeing him with me - a student. Plenty of students lived in his neighbourhood, so I understood his anxiety but it still sucked. Ridgley’s career was hanging by a thread, and if a student had seen me living at his place they could have told the college and the Dean would have hung him out to dry. We both knew that. The result was that I wasn’t allowed out of his place much at all, and we travelled to college separately. And even if the sex was good, and believe me, it was good, those satisfying moments were permitted during the times after Tom had got back late from chats with Professor Cantor, and after he’d done all his marking and preparation for the week.  As much as Tom liked me – and I knew he liked me a
lot
– Tom was far more dedicated to his job than to me. The man swotted. He read journals. He sweated over articles to scholarly publications. In my two days with him I only got glimpses of this, but I already saw what life with him would have been like. Almost zero downtime. Tom was totally committed to the academic life, and one day maybe I would be like that, but right now I wanted to live well! And living well was one thing I couldn’t do well at The Prof’s place. I was hiding behind net curtains, being careful as I left his apartment and leading an altogether separate life from him. Aside from one mind blowing half hour a night in each other’s arms, there was no joy for me there and having just escaped a far more terrible place, I wanted and I needed - to enjoy my freedom to the max.  Knowing I would miss Tom’s body and the pleasure it brought me wasn’t enough to keep me from beaming when the student support worker Bonnie Davis gave me the keys to my new pad. Even better, because of the college’s ‘lapses’ (Bonnie’s words not mine) I was getting a bonus three months free rent from the college’s student support fund. I knew this more like was conscience money from the Dean’s office, but whatever – who cared? If someone else was paying, I didn’t mind. I was free of Brandon – and I didn’t have to hide any longer, I could finally be me.

Life had been varied, stressful and strange ever since I set foot in Smiths College. I guess you could say stressed and strange was the new norm. So I should have been prepared for what happened next, but I wasn’t. Not in the least. I thought I was safe. I forgot all about Brandon’s madness and his violent streak because I wanted it to be over. I needed to bury my head in the sand, and so that’s what I did. Unfortunately, this choice left me totally blindsided and vulnerable to someone who was intent on controlling me or destroying me, as I was soon going to find out…

After I spent my whole first weekend enjoying my new flat in the heart of New Cross, I went to college first thing on Monday morning and checked in at Student services. Until then I spent my whole weekend drinking coffee, lounging in a big old arm chair, watching TV and drinking wine in the evenings, in a place which I could finally call my own. Not having a prison guard like Brandon on my case was totally amazing, and not having to hide behind The Prof’s net curtains gave me another high. It was like liberation, and I was enjoying it all.  So on Monday I checked in with Student Services special agent Bonnie Davis, the woman assigned to make sure I was happy and well until the college stopped worrying that I was going to sue them for all the stress I had suffered. She was in a buoyant mood and said I looked better. I thanked her for her help and I meant it. Next I went to my lecture. And lo and behold, there was chatterbox Penny, she of the poison mouth. Penny pretended she didn’t see me, so I walked past her and waved a big circular hello hand at her to rub her own stupid behaviour into her face. That girl had taken plenty of digs at me recently, I wanted to level the scores just a little. She quickly scuttled away to her own part of the lecture theatre, and settled in for one of Nurding’s lectures on Tudor theatre. It was not my favourite topic, but I was still buzzing with my new life. I was free. Not even the strange new looks I got from the gossips could affect me. The gossips had moved on from ‘
isn’t she a slut
’ to ‘
did you hear what happened to that poor girl
?’ I heard Brandon’s name dropped a few times like he was a horror movie villain. I tried my best to ignore them. The other thing I noticed was the absence of Luke and Amanda in the lecture theatre. Sometimes one or the other of them would be absent, but rarely both at the same time. I knew I would never see Brandon in these classes again, not after the Dean was forced to suspend him from study and that felt so good, but I was upset to see Brandon’s dark influence over Amanda and Luke still persisted. They shouldn’t have lost out on their studies because of him.

Just as I was thinking about them, my phone buzzed in my back pocket. Right then, I knew it was Amanda. Don’t ask me why. Intuition. Bad vibes, whatever, but I knew. I picked the phone out of my pocket and got prepared for a long text, but the text only had one word and a polite kiss. “Sorry x.” I didn’t understand it at all… and because I didn’t understand it I didn’t like that one little word. Not one bit.

When Nurding was telling us all about life in Tudor age London twenty minutes later – there were chained bears and exotic animals in chained up public and turds in the street - my phone started ringing. This time it wasn’t a text, it was a call.  The number jarred me. It was my old home number – my mother’s house. My heart started thudding like a jackhammer. I looked at Nurding, and tried to keep my cool. I didn’t want any obvious freakery on my part to alert anyone to my inner panic. I needed to freak out in private. I slid out of my seat and skipped down the steps towards the door as gracefully and unobtrusively as I could. I felt a few people looking, including Professor Nurding, but after the text from Amanda, I wondered what the hell was going on. Why was I getting so agitated? My mum called me once a week, sometimes more often than that, but she never called me during the week’s working hours because she knew I was always busy. Something was up at home, that much was obvious. Add to that the unnerving feeling from the text I’d just received from Amanda, and I was not in a good place.

My mother answered but I spoke only when I was sure the lecture theatre door was shut. I whispered so loudly it hurt my throat.

“What is it, Mum?”

“I’m sorry Ashley, I just didn’t know what else to do…”

I’d heard the same line so many times before that a familiar irritation rose up inside.

“I was in a lecture! You can’t do that.”

“But I had to.”

I stopped being irritated right there and waited.

“
Why
did you have to?”

“I’m sorry to both you honey, I know how important your studies are, Ashley.”

“Mum. Spit it out. You’re worrying me.”

“Yeah, I’m worried too. It’s Regan.”

My dear, dear brother Regan. I wished he had been abducted by an alien at birth.

“What is it this time?”

“He’s gone missing.”

I listened and I processed quickly, and flipped into straight into rational mode just like my dad would have done.

“So… maybe he smoked too much pot and floated away. Maybe he’s back with that girl with the dreadlocks, what’s her name…?”

“Suzy,”

“Yeah, that one. She almost had brains.”

“He’s not with Suzy, Ashley. And he’s not floating anywhere. He’s gone missing and I’m genuinely worried.”

“You always worry about him too much.”

“So you always tell me, Ashley.”

“What if he’s staying around a friend’s or a new girlfriend’s place? He never did like telling anyone much, mum. He likes keeping us all hanging onto the edge of our seats.”

“I thought about all that, Ashley, but his phone is off, and even his friends have been calling around here to find him. No one knows where he is… no one at all.”

“How long has he been missing?”

“A day and a half.”

“Come on, mum! A day and a half? He’s 21 years old! After a day and a half, he’s probably still high as a kite and locked in the nightclub from Saturday night.”

“Ashley, please don’t trivialise this. Something is wrong and I don’t know what to do.”

My mother’s voice was shaky and broken. I could tell she’d been crying and I was over forty miles away settling into to another new start at my dream life. My mother used to cry a lot. She was fragile. But she was still my mum. If I left her in the lurch, telling her Regan would be home soon I could never feel good about it, even if it turned out that I was right. I had to do something. Besides, Nurding’s class could wait.

“Just wait for me. I’ll call you back soon. Don’t worry, mum, I’m with you. I’m going to help.”

I hung up and sat in the corridor, thinking about a lot of things and nothing at the same time. I wanted to help, but at the same time I didn’t really want to help at all. I loved my mother but Regan had almost ruined my life and acted like he hadn’t given a shit about it. I had left behind a lot of problems at home, and here they were trying to drag me back to them all over again. I wasn’t sure I could handle that, not after everything that had just happened to me.

Then as if to remind me, my phone buzzed again and I saw a text had arrived from my least favourite person in the entire world. Even less popular than my brother Regan Pearson was Brandon Lynes.

How are you? I miss you See you soon…

“Not on your life,” I said out loud, as I deleted his text. I hoped he’d sent it to the wrong girl. If so he would be red faced and embarrassed very soon now. But I was left feeling ill at ease, a bit like the feeling you get after waking from a nightmare.
The text from Amanda. The call from my mum. The strange Freudian psycho stuff from Brandon
. It was all stacking up like a bad game of Jenga, and I felt on edge just trying to join the dots. I decided to get my satchel and clear my head. There was only one way through these feelings, and that was distract myself by helping my family out of their latest little drama. After my Brandon nightmare, I guessed helping Regan one more time would seem like a sideshow. How wrong can a gal be...?

Series list - in reading order

Fighting Heart 1: Fighting Heart

Fighting Heart 2: Questing Heart

Fighting Heart 3: Vengeful Heart

Fighting Heart 4: Burning Heart