Campus Royalty

POV: Marlo

My stomach was tied in tight, painful knots. The initials J.V. were still burned into the back of my eyelids.

Jarrah Vance. The man walking three steps behind me through the crowded campus courtyard was the exact same man whose name was inked on the wire transfer that paid for my parents' deaths ten years ago.

I wanted to turn around and scream at him. I wanted to pull the locket off my neck and throw it into his face but we were out in the open, surrounded by hundreds of students trudging through the slushy snow between lecture halls. Jarrah walked with his hands stuffed deep into the back pockets of his jacket, his eyes scanning the rooftops, the crowd, and every shadowed corner like a predator hunting in broad daylight.

He didn't look at me. He didn't have to. I could feel his heavy, suffocating presence pressing against my back like a loaded gun.

"Marlo! Hey, scholarship girl!"

A loud, mocking voice cut through the cold air.

I stopped near the frozen fountain, standing in the middle of the brick walkway was Tamsin Sterling.

She looked like she had just stepped off a magazine cover. Tamsin was Monash University’s undisputed royalty a national figure skater with ice blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and a white designer coat that cost more than my entire year’s rent. She was surrounded by three of her usual followers, all holding expensive takeaway coffees and smirking.

I lowered my head, tightening my grip on the straps of my backpack. I tried to walk past them. I didn't have the energy for campus drama today. My life was literally on the line.

"Don't ignore me when I'm speaking to you," Tamsin said sharply.

She stepped directly into my path, her sharp boots crunching on the pavement. She crossed her arms, looking me up and down with absolute disgust.

"Look at you," Tamsin sneered, her voice carrying across the quiet yard. A few nearby students paused, turning their heads to watch. "You look like you slept in a ditch. Did the heat get turned off in your trashy little off campus apartment again? Or did your sweet aunt finally run out of charity money?"

A low laugh rippled through her.

The mention of Siobhan made my breath hitch in my throat. My hands began to tremble inside my hoodie pockets. Tamsin didn't know the truth about Siobhan. Nobody did. To the rest of the school, I was just the poor charity case who barely belonged here.

"Move out of my way, Tamsin," I said, keeping my voice low and flat.

"Or what?" Tamsin took a step closer, leaning in so only I could hear her next words. Her icy demeanor melted away, replaced by something far more sinister. "You think because you're invisible, nobody notices where you go? I saw you leaving the east wing of the athletic complex last night after hours. You were looking for something you shouldn't have been looking for."

My heart gave a sickening thud, as I looked up at her.

She wasn't just bullying me to be cruel. She was fishing. She was testing me.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, forcing my eyes to stay locked onto hers.

"Liar," Tamsin whispered with a cold smile. "You don't belong on this campus, Marlo. You're a leech. You're living on borrowed time, and everybody knows it. People like you always get thrown away in the end."

She raised her hand and deliberately shoved my shoulder. It wasn't hard enough to knock me down, but in front of fifty staring students, the disrespect felt like a physical slap across my face. My cheeks burned with deep, raw shame.

I bit the inside of my lip until I tasted blood, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

Standing a few feet behind Tamsin was a man who clearly wasn't a student. He was broad shouldered, wearing a dark gray overcoat with a high collar pulled up to his jaw. His hands rested flat inside his coat pockets, and his dark, lifeless eyes never left my face.

Tamsin wasn't acting alone. That man was her handler. A professional sent to keep eyes on her or to keep eyes on me.

I instinctively looked past Tamsin's shoulder, my gaze darting toward the heavy stone archway at the edge of the courtyard.

Jarrah was leaning against the stone pillar under the shadows of the arch.

He hadn't stepped forward to interrupt. He was letting the scene play out. But his body was completely locked in place, rigid as iron. The lazy, arrogant posture he usually held was entirely gone.

His striking eyes had narrowed to sharp, lethal slits. He wasn't even looking at Tamsin.

His eyes were fixed entirely on the broad shouldered man standing behind her.

I saw Jarrah’s right hand slowly slide beneath the lapel of his jacket. The air in the courtyard felt instantly colder, heavy with a silent threat that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Jarrah was preparing to kill a man in broad daylight, right in the middle of campus.

"What's the matter, Marlo?" Tamsin sneered louder, enjoying the audience. "Lost your tongue? Or are you just realizing how pathetic you really are?"

She stepped closer again, reaching out her gloved hand to flick the silver locket resting against my collarbone.

"Where did you get this ugly cheap piece of trash anyway?" Tamsin mocked. "Did you steal it?"

Before her finger could even brush the silver metal, the man in the gray overcoat suddenly shifted.

His hand moved inside his jacket pocket. I caught the faint, metallic gleam of dark steel hidden beneath the heavy wool. He wasn't just watching me. He was drawing a suppressed weapon.

"Tamsin, stop," I whispered, panic surging through my veins.

"Don't tell me to"

A shadow fell over all of us so fast it felt like the sun had been instantly cut off.

Jarrah appeared out of nowhere. He didn't run; he moved with the terrifying, silent speed of a phantom.

Before Tamsin’s handler could pull his hand out of his coat, Jarrah grabbed the man’s throat with one massive hand, slamming him backward into the frozen brick wall of the fountain. The heavy thud echoed across the courtyard, instantly silencing the surrounding crowd.

Tamsin screamed, stumbling backward onto the snow.

Jarrah leaned in close to the handler’s pale, choking face. His eyes burned with pure, unhinged madness. He pressed his thumb hard into the man’s  neck, bending his head close to the man's ear.

"Touch her again," Jarrah growled, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that vibrated right through my boots, "and I will tear your heart out through your chest in front of everyone."

The handler gasped for air as Jarrah slowly turned his head, his dark, dangerous gaze snapping directly to me.

"Get in the car, Marlo," he commanded softly. "Now."