Chapter 4 Price of the deadzone

BRISELLE’S POV. 

The air in the tiny, grimy restroom was thick with the scent of cheap disinfectant and sudden, shocking intimacy. I stared at the man whose bare chest was pressed against the cold tile wall.

He didn't move, yet his eyes, that paralyzing, neutral gray, held a faint glint—the unsettling spark of recognition. He seemed like he almost expected me to walk in.

“Get out,” he ordered a low, guttural command directed at the girl who was plastered to him.

The girl threw a poisonous stare over his shoulder, skewering me with her glare as if I were personally responsible for ruining her night. She didn't spare a word, simply brushed past me, her body slamming the door open, leaving us alone in the tense, suffocating silence.

He walked slowly toward the sink, using the motion to force me to back up until I bumped into the stall door behind me, trapped. He glanced at his reflection, then let a slow, predatory smirk curl the corner of his mouth.

“We meet again,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

I swallowed hard, desperately trying to regain my cynical composure. “I’m really sorry,” I blurted out, my voice high-pitched and weak. “I heard noises, and I thought someone needed help. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’m leaving now.”

I tried to slide past him toward the door.

“You’re brave, you know,” he said, the sudden change in topic stopping me cold. “Faking attendance? Risky move for a freshman.”

I froze, turning to face him fully. My sarcastic bravado flickered back to life.

“It’s not bravery. It’s desperation,” I shot back. “And you’re one to talk about risky moves. The seminar is one thing, but using a club bathroom for…your small business?”

He leaned back against the sink, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “My small business? I prefer privacy, but the demands of the customer are sometimes overwhelming.” He smirked again, that easy, arrogant expression that screamed self-absorption. “Oh, you want to continue with me? You seem interested, freshman.”

My cheeks flushed. “I am not interested. I am worried that you’re going to expose my sister and me to Professor Albright, which will get me suspended and her potentially expelled. That is my only interest here.”

“A matter of consequences, then,” he mused, pushing off the sink and taking a slow step toward me. “I appreciate the concern for my recreational activities. But if we’re talking about bad decisions, I think faking a mandatory seminar signature while wearing glasses two prescriptions too weak is slightly higher on the list than a bit of fun in a public bathroom.”

“I thought someone was getting hurt, you narcissist,” I muttered, finding a strange comfort in insulting him. “You’re making out in here like a pair of horny teenagers. This is disgusting.” I didn’t know why I said any of that. Maybe my mouth had a death wish. 

I think I went too far, because his smirk vanished completely, replaced by a stone-cold expression that sucked all the heat and light out of the room. The transition was so abrupt, it felt like a punch to the gut.

“Disgusting?” His voice dropped, losing all trace of amusement. It was flat, dangerous, and utterly devoid of mercy. “You should be more concerned about the mess you’ve made of your own life, freshman, instead of judging mine.”

He stepped closer, his shadow falling over me completely.

“Don’t mistake my silence in the seminar for safety,” he continued, his eyes drilling into mine. “I have direct, verifiable evidence that your sister is committing attendance fraud, and you are her accomplice. I could literally walk into Albright’s office right now, and you two would be out of the college before sunrise. Don’t think for a second that your little insults grant you immunity here.”

The sarcasm died in my throat, choked by the immediate return of pure fear.

“I don’t know you,” I whispered, the trembling returning. “But please, please don’t tell anyone. Especially Albright. I might get suspended, and Veronica…it would ruin her entire senior year.”

He tilted his head, the severity of his gaze unwavering. “Maybe I won’t. Depends on what you’ll do for me.”

“What? Is it money? I don’t have much, but I can get money from my parents. How much do you want?”

He threw his head back and laughed—a short, sharp, humorless sound that echoed off the tiled walls.

“Money?” He dropped his chin and looked at me with renewed intensity. “I don’t need your allowance, little girl. I have plenty of my own consequences to deal with. But I do need something. And you’re the perfect, pathetic pawn to provide it.”

His gaze ran over me, not lustful, not even cruel, just…assessing. Like he was fitting puzzle pieces together in his mind.

“You’re careful when you lie,” he said after a while, almost to himself. “But you don’t think far enough ahead. That’s why you’ll be useful.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a seductive, yet utterly chilling register.

“Here’s the deal; for the next few weeks, you are going to play the role of my girlfriend. Publicly. You will be seen with me on campus, at events, and anywhere else I require. Do that, and maybe I’ll consider not reporting you and your sister for falsifying college documents.”

I was dumbfounded. The sheer absurdity of the demand was dizzying. Play the girlfriend of this terrifying, self-absorbed senior?

“No,” I stammered, shaking my head immediately. “Absolutely not. That’s insane.”

He straightened up, the smirk returning, but this time, it was colder and more confident. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and smoothly withdrew a stark, black business card. The kind that looked expensive and highly unnecessary.

“You have twenty-four hours to think about it, freshman,” he said, ignoring my refusal. He dropped the card into the pocket of my oversized sweater. “You know what to do when you change your mind.”

He turned and, with a final, chilling glance, walked out of the restroom, leaving me to stare at the black card in my pocket. My knees were shaking. I splashed cold water on my face, took three deep breaths, and tried to process the bizarre blackmail.

When I finally returned to the booth, Jenna was looking worried.

“Elle, what happened? You were gone forever! Arden left. He said he had to go, but he promised to look out for us if we ever came back.”

I collapsed onto the bench, staring blindly at the glass of Rum and Coke.

“Nothing happened,” I lied. “It was just crowded. I’m exhausted, Jenna. I need to go home.”

Jenna immediately sensed the shift, the genuine fear that had replaced my earlier rage. “Okay. Let’s go. I’ll walk you back.”

We left The Blind Tiger, the roar of the music fading behind us. I walked through the darkness back to the campus, a prisoner of a secret I couldn't share and a terrifying ultimatum. Twenty-four hours. I had twenty-four hours to decide if I would sacrifice my dignity to save my sister’s attendance record. As we walked, I reached into my sweater and pulled out the card. It was thick, matte, and bore a single embossed name in elegant silver script:

“Kai Thornefield!”

I finally had a name for the monster…and a choice that felt like no choice at all.