Getting Tangled With The Bad Boy

Nora’s POV

To most people, college is a chaotic hurdle to survive. To me, it’s a sanctuary. Call me a nerd, but I’d take it as a badge of honor. Where else can you lose yourself completely in the quiet hum of a library, surrounded by the scent of old paper and endless possibility?

My phone buzzed against the wooden shelf, breaking my trance. A small smile touched my lips as I saw my mom’s caller ID flashing on the screen.

“Mom,” I answered, swiping the green icon.

“Nora, how are you? Have you ate dinner?”

My eyes widened slightly at her word then checked the digital clock on my desk: 11:14 PM. How had I lost track of the time for that long?

“I’m in the library, Mom. I’ll call you the second I’m back at the hostel,” I promised.

“You’re still in the library at this time?” I can picture her brow raised right now.

“I had lost track of time, I’m heading home now.” After a quick chat, I tapped the red button and ended the call.

I glanced up, suddenly realizing the cavernous room was entirely empty. Groaning, I packed my textbooks into my bag, stretched my stiff limbs, and walked over to the front desk.

“I’m heading out now, Sophie,” I said, feeling a familiar twinge of awkwardness calling the woman by her first name when she was old enough to be my mother. I’d protested it for months, but she always insisted.

Sophie looked up from her tablet, her eyebrows drawing together. “It’s late, Nora. I thought you left hours ago.”

“I lost track of time. I really should get going.” I checked my watch again.

“Do you want a lift?” she asked, already starting to stand up.

“Oh, no! You don’t have to stress yourself over me. It’s not that far, I’ll be fine,” I rushed out, shaking my head. The last thing I wanted was to inconvenience her this late.

“Nora, you—”

“I’m really fine, Sophie. It’s just a ten-minute walk at most.” I cut her off smoothly. A complete lie. It was easily a twenty-minute trek, even if you power-walked.

“Fine, fine. Just go straight back and be careful. Call me if anything happens,” she conceded, settling back down.

“Will do. Thanks!”

With a bright smile, I hefted my bag over my shoulder and pushed open the heavy glass doors into the chilly night air. The campus was dead silent, shadowed by a moonless sky. It was going to be a long walk.

I hummed softly under my breath as I started down the familiar sidewalk, trying to ignore the creeping chill in the air. But as I reached the edge of campus, I hit a familiar dilemma: the fast route or the long route?

The fast route cut through a notoriously sketchy alleyway. The neighborhood whispers about it were enough to curdle blood, which was why I’d never dared to walk it alone. But taking the long way meant winding past the rowdy campus bars where drunk students spilled out onto the pavements.

A sudden burst of loud, rowdy laughter echoed down the long route. Panic flaring, I made a snap decision and veered sharply toward the darker, faster shortcut, breaking into a brisk jog before I could talk myself out of it.

After a few minutes of fast walking, I slowed down to catch my breath in the shadows of a brick wall, pressing a hand to my chest. God, what was I thinking?

Gripping the strap of my bag, I took a step forward and froze. A sharp, raw scream pierced the heavy night air. My heart hammered against my ribs, a cold wave of dread washing over me.

Every instinct screamed at me to turn back, to run as fast as my legs could carry me back to the safety of the library. Instead, my traitorous feet pulled me forward, drawing me toward the source of the noise.

I crept silently to the end of a stone wall, squeezed my eyes shut for a brief prayer, and risked a single, terrified peek. Just a few yards away, a man was kneeling on the pavement, blood streaming down his face. Towering over him was a figure dressed entirely in black, the sleeves of his heavy hoodie rolled up to reveal a sleeve of dark, intricate tattoos.

My breath hitched. In one fluid, indifferent motion, the man in black raised a heavy firearm. Bang. The deafening crack of the gunshot echoed off the brick walls. My hand flew to my mouth to bite back a scream, my entire body locking up in horror.

Slowly, agonizingly, I peeked out again. The man on the ground crumpled forward, lifeless. My fingers brushed against my phone in my hands. I need to call 911. But a cold wave of panic hit me. What if I’m caught? What if he sees me?

“And what do you think you’re doing?” A deep, unnervingly calm voice cut through the silence right in front of me.

My breath caught. I blinked rapidly, looking up and instantly forgot how to breathe. How is someone this impossibly gorgeous capable of cold-blooded murder?

He stood towering over me, a breathtaking work of art with sharp jawlines and striking eyes, entirely unbothered by the corpse cooling a few feet away. Before I could process the sheer danger radiating from him, my phone was smoothly plucked from my trembling fingers.

“Calling 911, huh?” he murmured, glancing down at the glowing screen. A sudden chorus of heavy footsteps and voices echoed from the mouth of the alley.

“Boss, who’s this one?” a gruff voice called out from behind him. Boss? The word echoed in my mind like a death sentence. Oh, Jesus. Is this a mafia syndicate? Am I about to be dealt with as an inconvenient witness?

Terror surged through my veins, obliterating my shock. I lunged forward, snatched my phone straight out of his hand, and bolted. I ran harder and faster than I ever had in my life, my lungs burning, the heavy thud of my boots the only sound in the dead of night.

Finally, the familiar brick structure of the hostel loomed ahead. I sprinted through the front doors, threw myself down the corridor, and fumbled frantically with my room keys, my hands shaking so violently I could barely hit the keyhole.

Glancing wildly over my shoulder into the empty hallway, I gave the key one desperate twist. The lock clicked. I tumbled inside, slammed the door shut, and threw the deadbolt.

Sliding down the panels, I hit the floor, pulling my knees to my chest as I tried to muffle the deafening sound of my own heartbeat.

I’m safe right?