My Stepbrother, My Damnation

Getting Handsy

Lina West's POV

I needed a breath of fresh air. Hell, I needed a whole new identity at this rate.

Leaving my personal hell wasn't going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, Mer's College could be my safe haven. I stood in front of the massive campus building, my eyes scanning the stone architecture until a sharp noise distracted me.

"It's so huge! Oh my god!"

Amid the chaotic chatter of moving students, Olivia's voice cut through the noise like a siren. She squealed, twirling around so fast that her curly blonde hair smacked me right across the face.

LA was a nightmare, but at least I’d be enduring the burn with my best friend. Then again, looking at her, I wondered if Olivia was even feeling the heat. We both transferred here to finish our degrees, though our first twenty-four hours in the city had ended in the most twisted way possible.

For someone who had almost been turned into shark bait last night, Olivia was remarkably bubbly.

"You've gotta lighten up, bae!" She nudged closer, clutching a heavy culinary textbook to her chest while hooking her free arm through mine. "Like, smile. Flirt. Just stop looking like you're attending a funeral."

I rolled my eyes and gently slid my arm out of her grip. My attention drifted to a massive notice board behind her. Dozens of brightly colored flyers were pinned to the cork, but my eyes locked onto exactly what I was looking for: The Internship Coordinator for the Criminology Department.

My own major. I almost laughed at the irony. I was studying the mechanics of crime while actively living under the same roof as a criminal. Granted, Riven was more like a demon, but the point still stood.

"Are you even listening to me?" Olivia pouted her glossy lips, crossing her arms.

"No."

"Rude. But listen!" She fell into step beside me as we started walking down the concrete path. "I heard there's a welcome party later tonight. We aren't exactly freshmen, but—"

"Olivia," I cut in, my sneakers coming to a sudden halt. "You seriously want to party after last night?" A heavy frown pulled at my mouth.

She blinked at me as if I were speaking a foreign language.

"I saved us. I literally saved your life from a tank of sharks," I hissed, not caring about the handful of students who glanced our way. They could stare all they wanted.

They could burn a hole right through me and see exactly how thoroughly exhausted I was.

My fingers dug hard into the leather strap of my purse, my chest tight.

"Lina..." Seeing the raw frustration bleeding into my expression, Olivia’s face softened with genuine concern. She stepped closer, resting a hand on my rigid shoulder.

"I'm..." I swallowed hard, the weight of the morning pressing down on my lungs. "That psycho biker is going to be my stepbrother. Soon."

The bomb dropped, and I watched it completely shatter Olivia's upbeat composure. Her eyes widened into saucers, her bright features draining of color as her mouth fell open.

"No f*****g way," she whispered, her voice cracking.

I instantly slapped my palm over her mouth before she could draw the attention of the entire courtyard.

"You're lying," Olivia hissed against my skin, her muffled voice vibrating against my hand. "That maniac?!"

Once she calmed her tone down, I dropped my hand. I looked up at the towering campus buildings again as she continued to reel.

"That's... that's completely messed up."

Messed up didn't even begin to cover it. I wondered how she’d react if I told her about breakfast. How he had indirectly, but unmistakably, tried to humiliate me under the table.

"I can't tell Ma about it," I said, drawing a ragged breath. "But I can do something else."

"And what is that?" We resumed walking, Olivia’s heels clicking rapidly against the pavement as she struggled to keep up with my pace.

"Find his damn watch. Once I hand it over, the slate is wiped clean. No strings attached. No connection to him whatsoever," I whispered.

"But—"

"There is no 'but', Olivia! He just wants his stupid watch and—"

My tongue knotted as I collided hard into a solid chest. Trust me, I wanted it to be a brick wall. But as a pair of hands gripped my waist to steady me, I looked up.

The smile on the guy's face was handsome, but given my mood? It was incredibly irritating.

"Looks like luck just stumbled right into my arms," he grinned, acting like he’d just won a prize.

The grin didn't last long. I tried to pull backward, but his grip tightened, his palms remaining firmly on my waist.

"Let me go," I demanded, my gaze turning lethal. He was a few inches taller than me, but swinging at him would be remarkably easy. And highly therapeutic.

"Make me."

That was all the invitation I needed. In the next fraction of a second, I whipped my purse forward, launching it straight at his face. The heavy bag landed with a loud smack against his cheek.

His hands flew off my waist as he stumbled backward, groaning.

"You really did stumble into luck. This purse is made of genuine crocodile leather," I muttered. Olivia let out a muffled giggle beside me as the guy nursed his bruised face.

I squared my shoulders, adjusting the strap properly over my jacket. "Let's go."

Leaving him behind, Olivia and I walked straight through the double doors of the building.

★

"Best college in California, my ass," I scoffed, staring blankly ahead.

The door to the internship office was supposed to be open. Instead, a heavy padlock stared back at me. I wanted so badly to bury myself in the grueling work of an LAPD intern. I wanted to work myself to the bone so my brain wouldn't have a single second to think about him.

But the universe clearly had other plans.

"I am not going back to that mansion yet," I said, spinning on my heel to head back out of the block.

Mr. Rykerthrone seemed like a decent man, but he had fathered a monster—one I was fairly certain he actively detested. I could sympathize with him, but I absolutely refused to be bound to Riven. A marriage certificate couldn't tie me to him. Our parents couldn't force a connection.

But that watch did. A watch I hadn't even seen. I just needed to find it, sever the tie, and—

The ground beneath my sneakers suddenly vibrated.

My brows knit together as a wave of sound—actual, panicked screaming—flooded the corridor. The noise grew louder, closer, until a frantic surge of students rounded the far corner. A human tidal wave was sprinting toward me, and I was caught right in the current.

"Hey! Watch out!" My yell was entirely drowned out as bodies shoved past me. I had no choice but to move or get trampled underfoot. I was pushed down the stairs, swept through the main hall, and forced right out into the open courtyard.

The scene outside was total chaos.

The sun was blinding, made worse by the frantic, rapid-fire flashes of dozens of phone cameras. My heart hammered against my ribs, the deafening noise ringing in my ears.

Then, a metallic, sickening scent hit the air. The smell of fresh blood.

Trapped in the dense circle of onlookers, I managed to push through to the front. I looked up, and the breath left my lungs.

"Fuck..." the word slipped out of my numb lips.

A cold sweat broke out across my skin as a memory from ten minutes ago flashed in my mind. The guy who had grabbed my waist. The guy I had smacked with my purse.

Why was I currently staring at him hanging from the campus flagpole?

His body swayed weakly in the breeze, his wrists bound together above his head. I paled, my stomach violently churning as my eyes tracked further up his arms.

His hands were gone. They had been cleanly severed, and blood was dripping endlessly onto the concrete below.

I instantly clamped both hands over my mouth, a sudden wave of nausea hitting me. I was terrified. Who could have done something so barbaric in broad daylight?

"This has the Black Reapers written all over it," a student nearby whispered, answering my silent question.

I glanced over at them, my heart stopping.

"No, this is the leader's specific work," another voice chimed in, pointing toward the body. "Look, he left his signature."

I forced my eyes back toward the gruesome sight. Slashed deep into the skin beside the dead boy's mouth was a crude, jagged symbol.

My throat went entirely dry. A gang did this?

"The Black Reapers are ruthless," someone else murmured. "It's insane. I heard their leader actually goes to school here. Riven Rykerthrone."

I closed my eyes, the world tilting beneath my feet.

I was so incredibly screwed.