Page 8 of At His Mercy

Can’t they all hear it? My heart is pounding so loudly in my chest that they have to hear it. I clutch my hands together between my thighs and squeeze tight to stop the violent shaking. I stare down at the smooth plastic surface of my desk and slip away into my panicked thoughts as the professor starts class.

“Any thoughts on the current assignment?” She answers a few random questions on deadlines. “Good, I’m going to walk around to each desk and see how far everyone has progressed.” She walks over to Elijah’s desk first. “If you want to, you can follow me and see what the other students are working on.”

Shit. This has to be a trick. Elijah Harlow can’t be attending my university. Harris has made a mistake, or maybe he forged his admission papers. He doesn’t belong here, not at my school. Slowly, my reason falls apart as I squirm in my seat. I can’t do this. I can’t sit here and wait for him to approach me like a mouse caught in a corner waiting for a cat to pounce.

I slip out of my chair and head for the door. No one seems to notice or care, as a small group of students hang out at another student’s table listening to a verbose explanation of their project. I glance over as I quietly open the door, and his eyes lock on mine. Damaged and unrelenting, his dark look turns my knees weak as I hang onto the door. I’m stuck in a trance as his eyes narrow on me as if I’d done something wrong.

I shut my eyes tight, and it’s the only way for his hateful glare to release me. Immediately, I dash out into the hallway. Leaning against a sink in the ladies’ room, I check my watch a million times. I tap my foot, wishing that I still smoked. I need something to calm my racing brain down. My finger taps my phone to check the time, and I better get back to the class.

This isn’t fair, but am I stupid enough to think that life would treat me better than anyone else.

When I walk back into the room, everyone is at a desk working quietly. Harris looks up from where she’s sitting with her laptop in front of the room.

“Olivia?” She smiles. “That is your name, right?”

I keep my gaze glued on hers as if my sanity depends on not turning my head. I can’t allow him to catch me in his gaze again, though every part of me senses him watching.

“Yes,” I reply breathlessly, “my name is Olivia.”

She gives me a questioning look. “Would you like me to look at what you have?” Harris gets up and walks over to my desk after I nod. Her eyebrows rise in unison when she sees my sketches for a prototype. “Impressive. You’ve done more than I was expecting to see tonight.”

“The building has a longer history than the school,” I reply, grinning. “I’m really into it.”

“I can tell. Good job! That’s a creative use of shadow.” She turns away from me and looks at the rest of the class, busy at work. “Class, you may want to take a look at what Olivia has done for her assignment. It’s a good example of fulfilling the needs of the end-user.”

I didn’t mean for that to happen, and my gaze latches onto Elijah as he slowly gets up from his chair. Time slows down, turning seconds into hours as he walks toward me. My heart jackhammers until I have to gulp down air to breathe. Elijah stands motionless beside me and looks down at my sketch on the table. His body is so close that any slight movement and we would touch. I exhale, and my fear changes into excitement to have him near again.

His expression softens as his hand reaches out and touches the edge of the page. His large hands look calloused, but his long fingers move gracefully as he turns a page in my sketchbook. In small ways, he is still the boy I spent all my afternoons with wandering around the fields behind our vacation homes. My shoulders relax to see the kindness I fell in love with when I was only nine.

“Very talented use of space,” he observes. “It flows on the page.”

I gawk at Elijah, shocked that he's acting sonormal. I bite my lip as he nods his approval, but I can’t speak. My throat closes out all words. I can’t even say thanks.

I spend the rest of class with my playlist blasting into my ears and shut out everything, including my feelings. What the fuck is wrong with me? He grabbed me in the woods like a maniac, and now, I’m acting a fool just because he likes something I drew. He can’t get away with scaring me senseless. I’m convinced he’s stalking me, but I can’t prove it yet.

My gaze stays attached to my tablet to keep it from drifting over to his. Occasionally, he catches me staring, and I can’t look away fast enough. His quiet intensity fastens me to my seat, but there’s also a need in his expression that my heart notices as butterflies flutter wildly around my belly.

Maybe what happened at the frat party was just my imagination. But as soon as I think that, a dangerous glint appears in his bold eyes. Swiftly, I place my focus back on my tablet and push my earbuds into my ears.

My body screams to be stretched out of the seated position I’ve held for hours. I look up and then around in a panic at the empty tables surrounding me. I yank my earbuds out and check my smartwatch. Class has been over for twenty minutes. I didn’t hear anyone leave. There’s no one left, and I’m alone. My heart starts to beat violently as I look toward the open door leading out into the dark hallway. Am I the last one in the building?

When I leave the classroom, there’s no one is in the hallway except me. My shoulders sag with relief as my heart leaves my throat and returns to my chest where it belongs. What was going through my head? I hurry out of the building when a door slams in the distance and echoes through the halls. I can never give Elijah a chance to be alone with me again.

Chapter Six

Olivia

After eight, the food court is packed with people who have missed dinner at the dining hall. There isn’t an empty seat anywhere, and I’m about to leave when I spot Lia and Sam from the team. I search for Nikki before making my presence known, and when I don’t see her, I hurry over to their table.

I hadn’t seen a sign of Elijah since class yesterday, and maybe my luck has changed to good. It seems to be improving when another table opens up, and I grab a free chair. An approaching girl wails in disappointment, but I’m not in the mood.

“If you don’t hurry, you’ll lose the table too,” replies Dahlia Patel, aka Lia. “I’d sit your ass down fast.”

I cringe a little at her bossy tone, but I’m too irritable to be kind. “The floor is clean.”

Lia snorts back a laugh, and the girl hurries to claim the table that she’s about to lose.

“It’s not like she doesn’t have a chair.” Samantha Collins, aka Sam, takes a bite of her pizza. “I mean, there are still two seats over there.”

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