Page 6 of Chasing Kit

“Leave.”

I swallowed, realizing I had no choice. Offering Dr. Mifflin an apologetic smile, I rose, grabbed my gear, and powerwalked to the door. I glanced over my shoulder to find all four of his boyfriends huddled around Dr. Mifflin, their conversation a tense whisper.

I frowned, a hot knot of embarrassment and confusion tightening my gut. What did my name mean to them?

Shaking my head, I left the hall. I pulled out my phone and texted Leland to tell him I was finished with class.

Leland

Meet you in front of the Bouchard Building.

I sighed and shoved my phone into the back pocket of my jeans. Sure enough, when I got to the front door of the criminology building—named for a donor—Leland was waiting, leaning against the brick wall and playing on his phone.

He grinned when he saw me. “Dude, I finally hit a high score.” He flashed his iPhone screen at me. “Do you think the princess will finally sleep with me?”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t know what game he was playing, but he was obsessed with it. In the classes we shared, he messed with the game rather than listening to the professors. I didn’t know how he passed any of the courses.

“What’s wrong with you?” Leland nudged my shoulder with his. “Was that prof boring?”

I halted. Letting my head fall forward, I groaned. “He’s a doctor, not a professor, and I don’t know what happened. He was going to answer questions about mob activity in this city. He mentioned some guy named Derek.”

Leland went very still. “Derek?”

“Anyway, his boyfriend stopped him from talking about it, and Doctor Mifflin asked for my phone number. I gave it to him on a piece of paper. When he saw my name, he just kind of . . . freaked out. I can’t explain it. It’s weird.”

He shrugged. “Dude, you know those kinds of teachers who are always buried in old, dusty books and newspapers. They’re eccentric. He probably has a screw or twenty loose.”

“You think?” I didn’t know what to believe. Today was one of those weird ones. I couldn’t quite understand what had happened, so there was no way I’d be able to explain it to Leland. “He was a strange guy, but I liked him.”

“Whatever.” Leland grabbed my elbow and tugged me. “Come on, dude. Let’s go get food. I’m hungry.”

I laughed. “You’re always hungry.”

“Well, duh. I’m a growing man.”

I gave him a once-over. He was huge—tall and built like a truck—and it matched him perfectly because he was an offensive tackle on our college football team. He needed to be big and heavy. I was less than half his size and felt like an ant compared to him. It was another reason why Dad never liked him in the Bentley. The car was small to begin with, but when Leland got in, even with the seat pushed all the way back, his knees were still mashed up against the dashboard.

We walked across the lush green courtyard of the college campus. This afternoon was warm and a little more humid than usual, which meant more students were lounging on the grass. Some people had thin blankets spread out with thick textbooks open as they studied, while others had taken the stone tables and benches, talking in groups. It was a perfect day.

“Fuck, I’m starving.” Leland patted his stomach as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to see who’d messaged me. I frowned at the unknown number but opened the thread anyway. It was a series of texts.

Unknown Number

Hello, Kit. You don’t know me, but I know you. I’ve been watching you for a while now. You see, I had big plans that involved kidnapping you and extorting your father.

I tensed, glancing around quickly. There was nothing out of the ordinary, only students talking. No one stood out as suspicious. My skin prickled and the hair on my arms stood up. I forced myself to keep reading.

Unknown Number

But then I realized something. You don’t know the truth about him. You’ve been living a lie. Let me tell you what your father hasn’t. Derek Uhlig is a criminal. Not just any criminal. The money that pays for your tuition comes from blood. From men he forces to fight to the death in a fucked-up building he owns, in games where the only prize is a bullet to the head. From underground casinos.

My gut churned. I gagged, the urge to vomit rising in my throat.

“Are you all right?” Leland leaned toward me, but I stepped away from him. I didn’t want him to know what was in the messages until I figured it out myself.

“Just wait. I got a text.” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep going. Was someone playing a joke on me? I gagged again and shook my head, trying to focus.

Unknown Number