Lunar Crest University (Forbidden Fruit)

Chapter Nine

LUCA

MONDAY, OCTOBER 9TH, 2023

F inley stays locked away in her bedroom for the rest of the night. I sit on the couch for hours , staring blankly at the large picture of a younger version of her standing with a man that hangs near the bookshelf beside the TV. She’s smiling widely, a smile I’ve only seen as she talks to Levi and one she has never shown me personally. Not that I deserve to see it.

I don’t want to immediately leave. It feels wrong. She has just been through something traumatic, and I want to make sure she is okay, to be here in case anyone decides to pay her a visit.

After a while, when I don’t hear a single sound from her room and get tired of staring at the version of Finley I wish to see, I decide it’s time to leave. There’s business to take care of before class in a couple of hours, and I need adequate time to execute and clean up afterward.

She’s probably waiting for me to leave, anyway.

I can’t blame her, though, can I? I’m the reason she’s in danger to begin with. Being around me makes her a target for the worst kinds of people—I’ve seen what Javier and his men are capable of. I was one of them for a long time. Not because I’m the worst kind of person, but because I wanted to take care of my family. Money brought my family to the States, freed them, kept them safe. I’ve only ever wanted my mother and sisters to be okay.

But I can’t tell her that. I have to leave her out of it.

She’s already more involved than I want her to be, but not for lack of trying. I hate it more than I like to admit that she’s affected by this bullshit because of me, hate that Rosco was trying to force himself on her. That fucker. I hate that this will be a day she’ll probably never forget. This hatred only reminds me of my plan to kill him and how much I’m going to enjoy it.

It clouds my mind; my vision turns crimson the longer I think about it. I grind my molars irritably as I slip from Finley’s apartment, locking the door with the spare key I’m pleased to find is still where I left it. It’s still dark outside, an hour before the sun is set to rise, giving me ample time to complete the task at hand before I need to be at the university.

It has finally stopped raining, although it’s still extremely damp and cold. I can see my breath leaving my lips in front of me as I walk, my boots sloshing through the puddles that sit on the concrete. The smell of wet pavement is thick in the air, making my nose scrunch in disgust. Fuck , I miss home.

I miss it so much because I can never go back. It was never safe there for my family, which mostly consisted of women—I was the only male, aside from my uncle, who was left. We were living off scraps, barely getting by.

And then, my mother discovered she had type two diabetes, so there was no other choice but to leave. She needed insulin, and the way we were living—no money, no food—needed to change. I had to take care of my family. So, Javier found me in one of the most vulnerable times of my life, promised me money, and promised me and my family safety as long as I worked for him. Which I did, for almost two years in Mexico City before coming to Lunar Crest. We’ve been here ever since.

I finally had everything I needed and wanted out, but Javier had one stipulation: I couldn’t pay him back with any of the money I made from working under him. So, I got a job at the university to start getting rid of him for good.

Mi familia lives in a beautiful brick home on the outskirts of town, out in the woods where no one can bother them, surrounded by flowers and trees and a river behind the house. The house is under a different name, so Javier had no way of finding them, just in case.

Safe.

And now, I need to make sure that Finley is safe too.

I’ll tie up these last few loose ends, wipe my hands clean of the situation, and distance myself from her completely. My focus will be spent on saving up the money I owe Javier so I can finally pay off that asshole and get on with a somewhat normal existence. I don’t have time for an all-consuming attraction to my student. I can’t jeopardize my chance at an ordinary life.

Which is how I end up at Crescent Pour House—a bar right on the edge of town, outdated and filled with the degenerates of Lunar Crest. Rosco is a regular there. That piece of shit is undoubtedly hammered out of his ass this early in the morning. Perfect timing to catch him as he stumbles his way out of the bar to soak in his alcohol-induced filth at his trashed apartment.

Like I said, I’ve been keeping tabs on him.

It’s pathetically easy to wrap my arm around Rosco’s neck from behind, since he’s shorter than me, and drag him into the dark alley I’ve been crouched in for the last fifteen minutes.

“Rosco.” I click my tongue, tugging him down the shadowy backstreet behind the dumpster with my hand clamped over his mouth. “You’re so predictable. It’s sad.”

He growls against the palm of my hand, wriggling in my grasp as I twist to shove him up against the brick siding. My eyes narrow at him, brows furrowing as he tugs at the chokehold I have on his neck.

All I can think about is the dirt on his hands, how he touched Finley in ways she didn’t want, staining her perfect, pallid skin, leaving her with the lingering feeling of violation from his befouled palms. The thought makes me want to chop his fingers off, one by one, and feed them to him.

Ripping from my grasp, Rosco gasps for air as he snarls, “Javier will have your fucking head for this, Serrano.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?”

I cock my head as I step backward, watching Rosco as he fidgets nervously under my stare. Amusement settles in my bones as I crack my neck. Seeing the effect I have on him, how frightened he really is of me, is oddly pleasing. Rosco has witnessed firsthand what I can do. I’d be shocked if he wasn’t riddled with fear.

“I knew you’d be stupid enough to come for me,” he spits. “So I made sure to tell him all about your little peach .”

The pet name makes my stomach curl with vexation, my blood bubbling hot underneath my skin. I keep my exterior as stoic as possible. Nodding my head, I step toward Rosco once more, and the corner of my lip twitches as the fucker flinches. Whisking the knife from my boot in less than a second, I press the blade against his neck as I lean down next to his ear.

“Aww,” I coo, patting his cheek twice. “Did you?”

“Javi knows everything. Where she works. Where she lives. Where she goes to school. So go ahead, mátame , but that won’t protect her from him.”

“I know,” I tell him. “You’re predictable, remember?”

And then, I grab his hand, gripping his fingers just before I take the knife and cut off his pointer finger. Blood spurts from the nub, coating my skin as I shove the severed digit into his mouth just before he yells in pain. His entire body convulses with a gag, but I don’t stop there.

I cut every single finger from the hand that forced itself inside Finley’s pants and cram them, one by one, into his mouth until he resembles a fucking chipmunk.

Good thing I laid out garbage bags before this. Less of a mess to clean up.

“You shouldn’t put your hands on women, Rosco,” I tsk. “You know that, don’t you? Well…you do now, huh?”

A faint chuckle escapes me before I swiftly slide the blade across Rosco’s neck, from ear to ear, grimacing as the blood spews from a nicked artery onto my face. He claws desperately at the wound, gasping and gurgling for air he won’t find. His dark eyes widen as his pupils dilate.

Lifting my shirt to wipe the blood from my skin, I sigh deeply as I point the knife lazily at him.

“Now, you’ll bleed out at the bottom of this dumpster. I’ll call my guy to come pick it up. You know the one, right? Yeah, you have to remember, because you worked with him too. It’s funny, isn’t it?”

Giving him one last flippant grin, I jab the knife into his chest, shoving against the butt of it once. Twice. Three times, making sure it’s nice and lodged into his sternum before grasping him by his clothes and throwing him into the dumpster. His body smacks against the bottom of the metal bin. Everyone would toss their trash into it in a few hours, just in time for my guy to pick it up.

Two hundred and one.

Wiping my hands on my jeans, I glance over my shoulder down the alleyway as the sun starts to rise, casting orange hues across the dark sky. The birds chirp with excitement for the new day.

So much for loose ends.