Page 153 of Coveted

I’ve had this feeling before. It happened when Russell drank too much, and I knew that horror came next.

It’s intuition, premonition, or maybe plain, old primal fear.

And yet I doubt the feeling, because nothing has changed. Professor Worthington smiles while standing a perfectly appropriate distance from me.

“In here, if you please,” he says, disappearing into the darkened office.

“No,” I say.

The word rings in the hallway.

The professor’s head pops out a second later. He seems mildly confused, his thick brows lifting.

“No?” he asks.

“I need to leave. I forgot I’m meeting a friend.”

My lie is hollow and obvious. He shrugs easily though, which makes me doubt myself.

Why am I being jumpy for no reason? Professor Worthington is as harmless as they get.

Just look at him. Literal egg on his face, poor guy. He’s nothing like Russell.

But I’ve made the excuse to leave now, so I can’t backtrack without seeming deranged.

“Of course.” He gives a gracious nod. “You mustn’t keep your friend waiting. Thank you kindly for helping me.”

“You’re welcome.” I transfer the papers I’m carrying to his arms. “See you in class next week.”

“Very well. Goodnight.”

With a wave, I start up the hallway, wishing more than ever to be in my dorm room. The professor’s door closes with a click.

But instead of silence, I hear his voice, and it’s right behind me.

“One last thing,” he says.

CHAPTER 40

Sadie

Iturn.

Before my mouth can form a question, Professor Worthington drives his fist hard into my stomach. The impact is crushing, bending me in half and stealing my breath.

Pain spills from my stomach through my body. Stars explode against blackness in my vision and my chest burns.

While I struggle to breathe, panic rocketing through me, Worthington picks me up off the ground. He hooks his hands under my armpits and he drags me, my boots scrabbling uselessly against the grimy tiles.

Once inside the room, he throws me in a heap on the floor. My body collides with a cold, solid pile of something. Worthington locks the door, pulling a blind over the glass panel.

As I choke on a desperate breath, I push myself up using the thing beside me. He clicks on a lamp, spreading pale green light through the dank room.

Nausea fills me as I realize I’m leaning on a man.

No, not a man. A body.

He’s cold and gray-skinned and his eyes are glassy.