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Hunted Heir
SANTORIN UNIVERSITY BOOK ONE

K.J. THOMAS
Copyright © 2024 by K.J. Thomas
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a
book review.

Editor: Samantha Wiley

Proofreader: Rachel

Cover Art:
3424728/@kjolak/depositphotos
342444452/@feedough/depositphotos
60862489/@Shebeko/depositphotos
Cover Design: K.J. Thomas
Created with Vellum
 Contents
Also by K.J. Thomas
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26

Acknowledgments
Also by K.J. Thomas
Blackwood Academy
Hiding From Monsters
Running From Monsters
Taming the Monster
Moretti Siblings
Twisted Obsession
Cruel Obsession
The Hunted
Entangled by Him
Stoneridge Academy
Hate Me
Fear Me
Break Me
Release Me
Santorin University
Hunter Heir
Standalone
King’s Playground
 Chapter
One

T aylor
The old metal door looms decrepit and proud of its latest
conquest, reputedly trapping me inside. With practiced, irritated
steps, I use my foot to turn the rusted old door handle. As soon as I
hear the welcoming click, I ungraciously use my hip, constantly
bumping on the metal frame, trying to get it open. The back-and-
forth motion looks like I’m in a dance off, horribly losing.
My mind is everywhere else instead of where it should be,
concentrating on all the shit I’m carrying. I refuse to make multiple
trips, especially if I only suffer for less than a minute with heavy
arms and hands.
I laugh in cryptic glee as soon as the metal beast gives way,
causing me to stumble outside. If my hands where free, I’d flip that
bitch off. Instead, I chuckle, happy to be outside. Unfortunately, I
endure this dance several times a week.
I look up, my feet suddenly are laden with cement, unable to
move. The jerking motion causes a few of the gloves and pads to
easily fall out of my crowded ensemble.
In front of my parents’ boxing gym are three black Escalades,
proudly manned by their own suitor. The driver or guard keeping
watch, proudly next to their own personal vehicle. It’s very late,
darkness swallows the gym whole. We’re open till ten every night.
The moonlight makes them shine, encapsulating them in money and
prestige. Something that does not belong in this part of Queens,
New York. The only time we get this type of visitor is when the
bankers come, or the gangs are looking for someone.
I haven’t moved, standing still on the street holding too much
boxing shit. My attention is glued on the men in tailored suits,
entranced by what this can mean. Who are these people? If I stare
long enough, maybe the universe will answer my questions.
Something hard hits me right in the middle of my back, causing
my cemented feet to jerk forward. I barely catch myself before I fall,
unfortunately all the contents spill out of my hands.
“Stupid girl,” is the only thing I hear as Mr. Chang growls his
distaste, walking by me as he closes up his little corner store for the
night.
“Sorry, have a good night,” I mumble, trying to wave goodbye
with my right hand but it looks awkward. Mr. Chang only knows
three words in English and I’m pretty sure of this, because that’s all
I’ve heard since I was a kid living here, it’s either; stupid girl or idiot.
Mr. Chang’s wife died ten years ago. Occasionally my mom would
have me bring food to him, or make sure he was still alive by visiting
his store often.
With my trance broken, I gather up the gloves and pads and
throw them in the door leading into the boxing club. This shit is
money, and I refuse to leave it out on the street, even though I’m
desperate to see who’s here. The rest of the street is dark and Mr.
Chang has gone home. We’re the only place that’s open. Maybe
some rich people wanted to try out a lower end boxing ring, see if
they could hang. I smile walking in the club, stepping over the
forgotten gloves and pads. I’ll deal with the equipment later, eager
to see.
I work on fixing my tight tank top that is starting to drift to the
side, then straightening my very loose pair of boxing shorts. It’s the
middle of August here, not as hot as it normally is at night. The air
conditioning is humming as several of the fans circulate the overtly
hot air through the boxing club.
Right when I round the corner, that’s when I get an eerie
sensation. The place is dead silent, except the noise from the fans
and AC.
 We usually have between ten to twenty people in the club
always, with a lot more during the busier times. Not one person is
working out or sparring. Doing what they need to do to improve
themselves, all of them are focused on my dad’s office.
My father’s office is small and shoved into the corner of the gym.
The blinds are closed. The only way we see a glimpse, maybe even
a glimmer of who’s in there, will come from the uncovered window
on his door.
I walk my way through the eerie gym. The members nod at me
with reassuring shoulder grabs, or pats on the back. Ignoring specks
of blood and spit during an earlier fight that missed the bucket
completely.
I started putting the buckets out months ago. So much easier to
clean the buckets than the floor twenty times a day. Nobody can
properly spit anywhere. There’s a lot of blood and other bodily fluids
that make their way through this old-school gym.
I stop, standing next to a few of the old-timers that are staring
intently at one of the most beautiful and classy women I’ve ever
seen. My dad’s back is toward us. She’s facing my dad with rapt
attention, very inclined and focused on what he’s talking about.
My father is moving his arms left and right, dialogue is raptly
flowing from him. I can’t help it, my shoulders tense up, there is no
reason for that woman to be here. This is our family’s livelihood. My
parents have been through so much. I’m afraid that anything else
will break them.
My mom and dad have owned this club since I was little. We
barely got by sometimes, especially in the beginning but it’s enough.
They made their dream work. Both of them have never been
happier, at least that’s what they tell me.
I ignore some of the stifling heat from the delayed air as I sigh,
severely interested in what that fancy woman is telling him. The
scent of blood and sweat is permanent in the air, even air fresheners
conveniently placed throughout the gym can’t get rid of this.
We’ve never had anyone that looks like that here. The last time
someone came in with the crappy secondhand store suit, they were
from the bank threatening to put my dad on his ass right then and
there. Luckily all the boxers in the building weren’t having it.
I know that’s why all the guys are concerned. We have a few
women that are in this club, but none of them are here right now.
Several older, long-standing members are now at my side watching
and waiting with anticipation, worried about what will happen to
their club they’ve been going to forever. The ones that aren’t right
by me are standing alert and ready throughout the room. The bags
are occupied, the ring is occupied. An area we have dedicated for
sparring is occupied, but all unused.
My father looks up slightly smiling, replacing it quickly with his
permanent stoic face seeing all of his guys surrounding his daughter.
“Relax kid,” Mac says to me. Gripping my shoulder tightly and
giving it a little bit of a squeeze in comfort. I’m twenty-two years
old. My birthday was a couple weeks ago at the beginning of August,
but apparently in this club if you’re under sixty, you’re a kid.
Mac stands next to me, shoulder to shoulder as we continue to
watch my father. Those two have been friends as far back as I can
remember.
My father glances back toward us, and motions for me to come
into the office with him.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” one of the older guys assures me
as I walk by. It seems like the woman’s here for me, so at least the
boxing club is safe.
Several of the guys get back to practicing with the heavy bags or
ring training. They know that the club is safe, they can feel it in their
bones. Several others give me reassuring head nods.
Do I look that terrified?
I go into the jail sized office that my father has. The room is
horrendously small and there’s a window the size of a book at the
far end of the room. My father has painted all the windows inside
this building. We don’t live in the best neighborhood, so he wants
this area separate from outside. Concentration is key, members
should only focus on why they’re here.
I take the desk chair my dad is standing next to. Blocking the
already blacked-out window.
 The fancy woman moves a step closer to me and offers her
hand. “My name is Ms. X.” I take it. “Taylor, have you ever heard of
Santorin University?” She asks as she sits down, crossing one leg
over the other and looking more exquisite than she already does.
She’s a bit younger than my mom but she is one of the most
classically beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Flowing brown hair,
glistening blue eyes, all on a thin frame wearing a pinstripe suit that
doesn’t have a wrinkle or a piece of lint on it.
“Yeah?” I say with a smile but it comes out a little bit
sarcastically. Like who hasn’t heard of Santorin University?
Everybody has, it’s the freaking Ivy of all Ivy League schools.
I watch her with rapt attention. You could hear a pin drop as the
woman classically grabs her leather bag off the floor and takes out a
folder with paperwork, and several clothing items. I glance over to
my father, his eyes are slightly wide, looking at the shit in her hands.
He’s shocked but is also very wary. He’s having trouble masking his
expressions, which is unheard of with him.
Ms. X gives me a very sweet and comforting smile. “Ms. Quinn,
you have won a scholarship to Santorin University for your senior
year of college.” She starts talking, conversing to both my father and
me. Sadly, the only thing I hear is ‘what the hell,’ screaming in my
head. This has to be a joke? Right?
Santorin University is one of those colleges that only the elite of
the elite get into. There is no application process, nothing. If you’re
going to be a student at the school, you’re going to get an invitation,
that’s the only way.
Don’t get me wrong, my mouth is still slightly open in shock. I’m
not academically inclined. I went to community college for the first
two years, then switched over to the State College for my junior
year. I didn’t get straight As. I’m not some major sports god. Most
people can see, as this woman can probably tell now, that my
parents are not loaded.
This honestly makes no sense whatsoever. I don’t pay that much
attention, with my mind racing as I watch my dad shake Ms. X’s
hand. She gives me a smile and a nod as she leaves through the
door that I just entered through. All the guys are watching,
wondering why she was here. She’s a beautiful enigma.
My father moves closer to me rubbing my shoulders up and down
as I stand up. “Eyes open.”
I nod. “Always.”
He’s just as perturbed by this whole situation as I am. I know he
loves me and he wants everything for me, but come on, we’re not
stupid. There’s no reason I would get into this school, everything
sounds fishy. So yeah, I’m definitely going to keep my eyes open,
always.
We spend the next hour in complete silence cleaning up and
getting the gym ready for whoever wants to grace their presence
here tomorrow morning. Some people actually use this place just for
exercise, but since our clientele is older, it doesn’t last that long.
“Ready?” My father asks me getting all the paperwork and the
clothing items Ms. X had left, gathering them in his arms. I nod,
drying off my hands after washing them. I always disinfect, there’s
so much bodily fluids on everything in this gym, it’s downright gross.
But it’s home and I love this place.
Both my father and I head out of the doors, then turn a sharp
right to another door facing the street that leads up to our
apartment. No words are said as we trudge up heading straight for
the kitchen area where my mom has dinner ready and waiting.
Sometimes we’re able to sneak up for dinner earlier, but the
place was packed tonight.
My mother quickly glances between my father and me, her
expression seems as worried and vaguely confident as my dad’s
does. I love them so much because they try to make the situation
happy no matter how daunting it is.
We eat in silence. There’s no reason to talk, my dad was in his
office for a while. I know he called mom and explained everything to
her.
“I can’t wait anymore,” she says as both my dad and I, cover our
stuffed with spaghetti mouths, laugh. She rips open the paperwork
and starts going through it. Her mouth forming a big ‘O’ through the
entire reading process.
 My mom looks up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You
leave on Friday morning, that’s two days away.” I nod, my father had
mentioned it to me before. I could wait and go Sunday, but this way
I’ll get settled and can explore.
My father smiles as he grabs each one of our hands. In our small
apartment, there’s a tiny kitchen table that fits three people
perfectly.
“Taylor deserves this. This is her time to shine, and for some
reason the best school in the country wants our daughter, then so be
it.” He squeezes her hands for emphasis. “We can’t let our past
dictate our future anymore, not everything that happens is going to
be bad.” He lets go of my mom’s hand and covers mine with his.
“Enjoy this moment in life, we might not know the answer right now,
but as your parents we know that this is your moment to shine.”
I start to cry as the three of us head up to my room, seeing
what’s worthwhile to pack. I’m grateful for my mom. If I was on my
own at State, which I’m supposed to be going back to, my laundry
would be piling up. Because of her, everything is clean except for
these raggedy gym clothes I’ve been wearing all day.
My father comes back with an envelope in hand. They think they
keep stuff from me, but I know exactly where their stash is and how
much they have in it. Very rarely, but when I do have extra, I try to
add a twenty every now and then.
I shake my head no, as my mom puts her arm around me
squeezing me to her side. “It’s five hundred dollars, you’ll be a few
hours away from us, and who knows what could happen. This
money will help us to sleep better at night. Please just do this for us
so that we know you’re safe.”
I nod, blinking rapidly, trying to lose the tears that are
threatening to break free.
I will always be grateful for these two. For everything that
they’ve ever done for me. I just pray to God that one day I can
rightfully repay them.
 Chapter
Two

R eaper
Boston has always been my favorite place to play when I was in
my early twenties. The nightclubs were freaking insane.
“Drop me off in the back,” I say sharply to Remy, discouraging
him from giving me a reply. It does the trick as he slants his
eyebrows, but not arguing.
My moment was very short-lived when he hisses out, “it won’t
hurt you to relax for a minute. Spend an hour in there. Have a few
drinks, shake that ass. We both know you could use it.”
I growl, “twenty minutes, fucker.” I slip out of the vehicle,
slamming the door behind me. This SUV is Remy’s baby. If I could’ve
slammed it any harder I would’ve. I hear him slightly scream,
erasing the smirk off my face getting closer to the club.
I’ll admit it does draw me in. The ambiance surrounded by the
darkness outside. The lights are barely lit but enough for women to
feel safe.
I turn to go into the alley, where Remy couldn’t fit the car. The
club made it this way. There are two huge trash cans blocking half of
the exits on either side of the alleyway. This is far safer for the club
and the inhabitants inside.
I keep my mind and thoughts open as I continue to walk through
the alley. I hear rats and insects milling about but no other human
voices. It smells of rotten eggs and multiple drunks slowly pursuing
their deaths.
 I’m wearing all black. My tailored suit is a skin hugging silk that
set me back fifteen grand. With my loafers, I’m ready to blend in to
the darkness of this intriguing club. I can tell why it’s the most
popular one in Boston.
I knock twice on the back door just as I was told to do. It swings
outward in a rush. The bouncer manning the area looks like he’s
going to rip me a new one, before he sees the wad of cash in my
hand. One grand to get me into the back door unnoticed, was the
deal.
The guy gives me a nod, looking down the alley both ways as he
grabs the money and moves back to let me in. No words need to be
said or exchanged. This man keeps his distance and his eyes
adverted.
I’ve been told more than once that I’m compared to nightmares.
The things parents tell their rambunctious children to get them to be
obedient and go to bed at night. I’m faceless. Nameless. I am
deadly, dangerous, a nightmare, I am the Reaper.
This job was predominantly on the lower end of the pay scale,
but I still agreed to do it. “Hey baby,” is purred in my direction. I
walked by a group of very drunk women, not bad looking, either. I
angle myself back, out of the way. I don’t appreciate being grabbed
or touched. I give them a nod and keep moving.
The woman I’m looking for is a fucking cunt. I growl as I walk
through, letting everybody know I’m not interested, it works. She
earns her money by sleeping around and then when her victims are
coming down from a euphoric high and not watching, not caring
because you finally got yourself a piece of the pie, she fucking drains
everything, then she’s gone.
The music starts to bump, the lyrics are low as the bass takes
over. It’s very inviting to let loose, if only for a half an hour.
Several victims have put whatever resources they could find
together and hired me. The way this woman, a gorgeous blonde
bombshell, looks, I’m not shocked to see all the damage she’s done.
I’m in work mode, I no longer look inviting. The expression I
have plastered on my face is to stay the fuck away. Men know to do
this, unless they’re looking for a quick fight. I’ll win.
 I even researched the owner of this new club to make sure he
wasn’t a problem, he isn’t. I’ve seen him around, walking, he notices
me out of the corner of his eye but he leaves me alone and I ignore
him. I’ve never met one club owner that’s decent.
I usually get at least one dick-bag, a douche that wants to take
on the bigger guy. To prove some shit, even if he gets his ass kicked.
The next morning he can spit, ‘at least my drunk ass tried.’ Everyone
wants to see if they can outshine the fucking Reaper.
My dick stands to attention as a woman flows right in front of
me. Delicate, surreal and absolutely breathtaking, the way she
sashays her hips has my dick jumping for joy. I maneuver away,
barely stopping from knocking her over.
She smiles, moving closer to me, moving her hips and before I
know it, she’s wrapped around me, dancing. Remy would be howling
with delight if he saw me right now. This woman has got some
fucking moves. Maybe I do need this, to relax.
I yank her body to mine, her soft, silky curves that press into me
feel so god damn fucking good. It won’t hurt just for a few minutes.
Neither one of us saying anything.
My leg wedges in between hers, rubbing against her in tune with
the beat. I have no clue who’s even singing but it’s catchy.
“Fuck,” I growl to myself as I back off, giving her a wink and
shaking my head no. The woman knows I’m trying to leave. I am
here to work.
“Not yet,” she purrs. Her voice is intoxicating, sweet like honey.
This bitch grabs my arm and drags me down the hall to an area that
has more standalone bathrooms.
Work can wait for a few minutes, I agree with myself as I watch
her voluptuous ass move in front of me. I have blueprints of this
joint. I like to know where everything is, I know exactly where she’s
going. I see no problem with a small break.
I watch her ass, tight and ripe, glide in this silk dress that she’s
wearing. I’m not the only one that watches, several clubbers,
especially men, can’t take their eyes off of her. They’ll be doing what
I’m about to do, whacking off to her image, but at least I get the
real thing.
 She bypasses the standalone bathrooms and opens a door into a
small storage closet. Most likely for the janitor or the cleaning crew.
A light is flicked on in the corner. But I don’t give her much of a
chance as I grab her and slam her against the wall. With little effort,
lifting her body up at the same time, I’m able to get my dick out of
my slacks, and slap on a condom within fucking seconds. I’ve
mastered this fucking issue over the years.
I check to see how ready she is as I jab my hand between her
legs, finding the very thin material of her panties. The girl is fucking
soaked.
I line my engorged dick up perfectly and slam all the way in. She
cries out and then moans, maneuvering her hips back and forth. Her
arms are placed above her head as she grabs onto her hair, keeping
her arms up. I rip off the flimsy silk that’s covering her breasts.
She screeches with wide open eyes, getting ready to say
something but I don’t give her a chance as I start bucking into her,
fucking whatever she has to say right out of her mouth.
I slow my movements down and pull down the cups of her bra
that’s holding her delectable tits in place. These beauties aren’t
natural but who cares, they’re still fucking bitable. Which is what I
do as I pump hard and slow down, rotating my hips taking turns in
between each breast tasting, biting, and licking.
It doesn’t take long until she plateaus. She sings a melody and
whimpers, classical as her pussy grips the ever loving fucking shit
out of my dick.
I tremble as a chill runs through me. Smacking me upside the
head as I pull out. Making sure she’s steady on her feet before I flip
her around. Giving her no choice as I bend her over. Putting her
hands flat against the wall her back was previously against. It looks
like I’m frisking her, but with her ass in the air.
I fuck her harder and faster, she screams in delight as I grunt,
finding my happy ending. Doesn’t take long until I release, coming
hard into her. I wasted too much time to properly get laid like this.
Several seconds pass. I don’t move, savoring every damn feeling
traveling through me.
 I quickly fix my pants and the rest of my suit as I stand back up,
using a handkerchief left in my coat pocket to place the used
condom in, before putting it back into my pocket.
She turns around, her skin is flushed. Her smile is wide and her
legs and arms are fluid.
She looks up at me smiling, until she spots the expression on my
face, one of hatred.
Before she can dislodge the scream that’s been building up in the
past second, I wrap both my hands around her throat, squeezing
and cutting off her air supply, also cutting off her pleas for help.
Choking her will take too damn fucking long. I ignore the scared
and terrified look pooling in her eyes as I effortlessly flip her back
around. This gives me a better advantage as I sharply twist her
neck, snapping the life right out of her.
The fear that intwines with every moment in your life comes out
at the last-second and hers was huge. She realized how much she
fucked up.
If I’m ever asked, I will admit that this bitch could fuck.
At least now she can’t fucking steal from anyone else. No other
person in this world will be a victim. I casually clean up and leave
out the back door. Still shaking my fucking head. I did not expect to
go that far. But Remy was right. I desperately needed to let loose.
I sent a text to the asshole to pick me up at the mouth of the
alley. No one can see me, even the guard wasn’t manning the door
anymore. I was never fucking here, and no one will say otherwise.
My job is fucking done.
 Chapter
Three

T aylor
My father comes to a screeching stop in front of the most
beautiful college I’ve ever seen. I ignore several of the looks from
students as they glare at our loud, older silver truck.
Santorin University looks like several Victorian-style older
buildings have been merged together to create this forbidden
college. It’s ominous and dark but it’s also breathtaking. At least
there’s no gargoyles on the top that might suddenly fall on me.
I step out of the back seat of my dad’s old truck. It’s only ten
years old and he bought it brand new. Looking toward where my
father’s standing and looking at all the other cars that are driving up,
he doesn’t match the limousines, Bentleys, and he knows this. A lot
of the students are driving themselves in Maserati’s, and I’ve spotted
six Lambos, it’s fucking insane. Why the hell does a student going to
college need this type of showcase car? Because they can.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” my mom says as she
moves next to me, wrapping her arm around me, pulling me to her
side in comfort. I love when she does that. She realizes at the same
time I do, I’m way out of my league here.
“I’m good, I’ll be fine,” I say as I move into her and give her a
big hug, not caring about all the people distastefully watching us.
Most of the new students are waving their parents off, not wanting
any of their emotional hugs before they leave their homes for good.
I see the pain that radiates through all of them but mostly on my
mom’s face. “I’ve got this. It’s gonna be awesome and I’m really
excited.” I plaster on my best fake smile, which has worked before. I
hope it works now.
All of us grab a piece of my luggage. I don’t have that much, two
smaller suitcases and a backpack, as we head into the administration
office. It’s cold out right now, even though it’s the freaking middle of
August in New York. It’s the chilly kind of rain that sprinkles, misty
with fog stationed everywhere. I’m thankful that I did check the
weather and I decided to wear jeans, a white T-shirt, a brown
cardigan and my comfy running shoes.
In the back of my mind, I wish I would’ve had more time to
research this school. In hindsight, why would I? It’s elusive, and way
out of my reach.
My parents stop outside of the admin office and put down my
suitcases. I’d rather do this out here instead of going inside with
other people. I freaking hate goodbyes.
I wrap myself around my mom, who buries her head in my
shoulder and weeps silently. She’s the type that doesn’t want to grab
attention to us but I know this is heartbreaking for her. “I love you,
I’ll be fine,” I whisper in her ear as she pulls away and goes and sits
in the car. She’s always hated goodbyes, who doesn’t?
My dad pulls me in for one of his huge bear hugs. My eyes start
to fill up with unshed tears as I wrap myself around him. My father
and I have always really been close, he’s my safety net. I love my
parents to death but I don’t know what I would do without my
father.
He angles back so he can get a good look at my streaked-lined
face. “Eyes open,” he states as he uses his thumbs to wipe away the
wetness from my face.
“Always,” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster but it
comes out as a whimper and barely recognizable. It feels
heartbreaking, like I’m losing my parents.
“You got this kid,” my father says to me as he turns his back and
walks back to the car to comfort my mother.
I pat my eyes dry then turn and walk into the admin building,
letting the excitement of the situation overwhelm my tears and heart
wrenching sorrow.
The admin building looks like any other admin building at a
college campuses, even high schools, the ones I’ve seen anyway.
Several people are manning the front. The bigwigs are in the offices
in the back. At least this one is loaded with the façade of centuries
past. Victorian style looking bricks for the interior and wood
throughout.
“Taylor,” my name is called from a girl that looks my age who is
walking toward me in a stunning pinstripe business suit and four-
inch heels. Holy shit this girl can pull it off, she’s stunning. “Hi, I’m
Eden.” She holds out a very well-manicured hand, that I promptly
accept. “How fun, your first day here.” She’s a lot more energetic
than I am but it’s rubbing off.
We step outside of the administration building and I reach for my
luggage.
Eden shakes her head and lightly chuckles as she prints my name
on three little tags and then quickly adheres them to my luggage.
“Girl, believe it or not, they actually have what you would call bell
boys in the school, at least for the first week.” She nudges me with
her arm. “You can’t have all these rich people carrying their own shit
around. Your luggage will be taken to your room. You have an
awesome room and roommate.” She smiles big as she points to
herself.
I laugh realizing how well we’re going to get along. At least I
don’t have to worry about rooming with someone I can’t stand.
Eden steps up next to me as both of us look out to where my
parents dropped me off. They’re still there, my dad is comforting my
mother. I have an urge, a huge one, to walk over and give them
both another hug. Eden must know this as she shakes her head no.
“It’ll get easier,” she says as we both stare at them.
I’m ready and waiting for her to start showing me shit but I have
no clue which direction to walk in. I turn back and look at Eden who
is currently nibbling on her worried lip.
“Who are you?” Her question is sincere, but out of place. “I know
your name, but I’m curious why you’re at the school.”
 I shrug. “I won a scholarship, so beats the hell out of me.” Eden
starts walking away from the direction that my parents were, and I
rapidly follow.
“There hasn’t been a transfer student here for well over a
hundred years, it’s unheard of. Even if they’re a week late, they
don’t get in. You’re a senior.” She looks at me waiting for a response,
and I don’t fucking have one.
Again I shrug, not knowing what to tell her. I’ve always been
Taylor Quinn from Queens, New York, and I’m pretty sure she’s able
to read that in the paperwork she has for me.
She looks at me and nods as we walk, her heels clicking. “Just be
careful. Someone wanted you here and it would terrify me if I didn’t
know why.”
I nod gallantly. “My parents are wary, but this is an opportunity
that we can’t let pass by.”
Eden stops walking, and turns toward me. “Damn straight. You
can get any job guaranteed if you have a degree from this fucking
school.” Now she nibbles on her well-manicured fingers. If we were
closer friends, I could see myself smacking her hand away. “You
have to be careful, at least until you graduate or we figure out why
the hell you’re here.” I’m still in shock at how much this unknown
girl has entered my life, but for some reason I trust her.
“Your school schedule.” Eden walks right next to me as we both
start looking at the schedule. She flows perfectly in four-inch heels
as I keep trying to not trip with someone walking this close to me.
I move my attention away from all the students running around
like me, but far better dressed, and concentrate on the schedule that
Eden is holding in her hands.
I’m strolling and not paying attention when I accidentally
shoulder check somebody.
“Oh God, I am so sorry,” I say before I turn and look at my
victim.
“Oh shit,” I hear mumbled from Eden.
Three gorgeous girls that fit right in to the school are now staring
deadly at me. The sun has made a rare entrance in this weather, and
is shining brightly like a halo behind all three girls.
 The one in the middle was the queen of the group. She’s slightly
in front of the other two who are flanking her. She gracefully moves
over to me. Using her hip, she bumps me off the little ledge that I
was standing next to.
I awkwardly drop three feet down, landing painfully on my ankle,
shifting it slightly to the side. I growl instead of saying anything as
my head snaps back up, looking at the three smiling bitches, and a
very pissed off Eden.
“Freaking charity trash,” the queen mumbles as her and her two
leeches walk by laughing.
Oh hell no, I grew up in a boxing club, well in the apartment
right above it, my whole life. I would earn my money sparring,
cleaning bodily fluid and letting professional boxers beat the shit out
of me, but it paid decent.
I jump up ready to throw down. I can safely say that I can hold
my own against one dude who can fight, and even a few non-
fighters like this stupid fucking bitch.
Eden recognizes what’s going on as she walks right in front of me
blocking my view. The girls turn around and blow me a kiss.
“Definitely not worth it, not these girls on your first day at this
school,” Eden says still blocking my advance toward them. I imagine
things aren’t that much different than high school. I know if I submit
to their bullshit, for the next year I’m going to be a walking target.
Eden still continues to calm my ass down. For some reason I
trust her as I reign in my anger, saving it for another fucking rainy
day.
“Let’s go to lunch,” Eden proudly exclaims as she grabs my arm
and starts to drag me to the cafeteria, leaving the bitches in the
opposite direction.
She moves where she has her arm threaded through mine. “We’ll
eat and then I’ll explain everything about the school and the
monsters that control it.” I nod. I need to know what I’m getting into
or at least how to play this game for the next year.
My feet suddenly stop as I follow Eden into the cafeteria. I’m in
shock and I freaking admit it. This place looks like one of the nicest
restaurants I have ever seen. We start to walk but Eden starts to
turn to the right and I move to the left to what looks like a buffet
window stop.
“What are you doing?” Eden asked as she moves up to me,
slightly tugging me in the direction that she’s going. She smiles as
she says, “we order from our table.”
“What?” My eyes are way too big for my sockets now as I follow
her direction still looking around. Over by the buffet window line,
whatever it’s called, there’s at least ten men and women dressed in
butler suits. They keep running food and drinks back and forth to
different tables.
I check the individual tables we walk past and notice there’s a lot
of booths. The upholstery covering these chairs doesn’t even have
one fucking mark on them. The tables have thick, beautiful clean
cloths covering them. We’ve been out to eat a few times when I was
younger but this place blows everything else away. Even the freaking
floor is not dirty, stained or has trash all over it. The wood is
beautiful and immaculate. It looks like it was just shined before we
came in here.
“Taylor, I would like you to meet your new best friends. The most
awesome people that go to the school. Pierce and Chance.” She
motions to a couple of guys that are snuggled very close together.
“And this is Joss.” A fiery redhead waves back to me, polite but
nervous.
“Girl, how the hell did you transfer into this school?” Chance is
the one who asked this question. He’s a darker skinned student, but
looks like he should be a model, absolutely stunning. His boyfriend,
I’m guessing, gives me a wink as I give them both a shrug. The
question I imagine I’ll get asked a lot and I still won’t have the
freaking answer for.
“It’s a mystery,” Eden tells the guys as we sit down.
“This is how you order,” Eden states, sitting right next to me,
across from the other three and working on an iPad. I watch and
pay attention as she goes through the different options. “Just let me
know if you want something, all we have to do is click and add it.”
I mumble out, “I don’t think I can afford this.” Apparently loud
enough for everybody else to hear, as they all start to chuckle.
Several tables give us an annoyed glance. It’s not like we’re in a
library.
“This is part of your scholarship,” Eden states as she waves
between her and the other three, “it’s part of our tuition. You can
come here anytime you want as long as they’re open and order
food. You won’t have to pay for it.”
Eden freaking laughs as she whispers to the others, “twenty
bucks she doesn’t know about the stipend.” All of them slightly laugh
now. I glance over to them, but my attention is yanked back. Hello
food.
Eden watches me for a second, when she’s finally had enough,
she moves her hand to the bottom of my chin, slightly pushing up
and getting me to close my damn fucking mouth. I try to swat her
arm away as we all laugh.
Every food I’ve ever heard of and some that I haven’t are on this.
I will not miss breakfast, lunch or dinner the whole time I’m here.
I’m pretty fucking sure of that. I order two lobster rolls and a large
Coke. Not the best healthy choice, but that’s something we don’t get
very much of either, soda. I’m probably gonna gain at least fifty
pounds and I’ll need to see the dentist by next month.
“Fuck you, Brett,” a girl screams out across the room as she tries
to push a guy away but he doesn’t budget at all.
“Oh my God,” I spit out not realizing it, with my eyes bulging.
Eden follows the line of my sight, and so do the gays, and Joss.
“Is that…” I keep pointing toward the Brett guy.
Eden chuckles. “Yeah. His dad is in the number one movie out
right now.” At least this time I close my mouth before somebody else
does it for me. The guy is laughing with the group of other hot
looking guys and girls. They’re all looking comfortable in jeans and
shirts, the girls are wearing tight dresses, too tight to fit any food in
them.
“If you look over there, that’s the president’s son.” Damn, she’s
right, as I look toward the other side of the room where a lanky guy
with glasses is eating with a few other people. All of them are
intently looking through books. “You’ll be shocked by what you see
here. Everyone in this room comes from some kind of power or
prestige. It’s not even busy yet. The students don’t have to be here
until Monday.”
I look at all of them, not trying to sound like an ass, and say,
“who are you guys?” Pierce, I find out is French. So him and Chance
like to call themselves French dark chocolate, it’s freaking adorable.
They all laugh. “Pierce and Chance, both of their parents are
movie producers. Joss, her mom is a supermodel and her dad some
big Wall Street exec. You probably might recognize her mom, Renée
Willow.”
“Holy shit, yes I do. Your mom is absolutely stunning, so are
you.” Joss gives me a kind smile. This girl is really shy, she also nods
her head at me.
I look toward Eden. “You?”
She smiles. “I am one of only five, now six, scholarship students.
I was able to come for freshman to senior year. My high school years
I had the best GPA in New York.”
I was not expecting that. “Does this mean you’ll help me with my
homework?” The only thing I could think of to say. I know I could
use the help, I’m average at best. She laughs, nodding.
“The people you need to stay away from is that group of guys.”
She points toward a huge group of football players, half of them are
in their uniform. They must’ve had training today. Sadness leaks only
for a second through Eden’s eyes, I wonder if she had history with
one of them. That’s a conversation for another day. “You also need
to avoid those girls.” She smiles as she points to the table sitting
directly next to the football guys. Of course the three bitches I had a
run in with earlier are front and center at the head of that table.
Great. The pain in my ankle throbs, reminding me of how much I
dislike them.
Our food comes out, while Eden keeps talking, “there’s royalty
here, a prince just graduated last year. Don’t be shocked by what
you see when you walk around. I was when I first got here. People
that you never thought you’d even be in the same room with.” I start
stuffing my face as Eden leans closer to me, talking softer. “Last time
someone tried to transfer in, was a royalty, I think it was the
Queen’s son or grandson and they refused them entrance. Just
something to think about,” she stated, just as worried about this as I
am, but I’m too fascinated with everything to care.
Pierce leans across the table and aims his head in the direction
over by the cafeteria doors. “Look at those guys. Guards.”
I glance toward where he nodded. Men dressed up in suits and
jeans are lining pretty much the whole interior of the cafeteria walls.
It’s heavier guarded by the doors and gets more spaced out as you
get farther into the room, but holy fucking shit. A few of them, I
even noticed a bulge where a gun would be.
“They have to protect the most powerful, somehow. The majority
of the students wouldn’t be allowed to attend without their guards,”
Pierce states as I nod, trying to count what I think are the guards.
“Dammit, they could blow us away at any fucking time.” The
table around me blows up in laughter as I realize that I mumbled
that out loud and not to myself.
So far it’s not a bad first day, I think as I join them in their
laughter.
 Chapter
Four

T aylor
“Hello,” I groan out as I answer my phone. What time is it?
“Taylor,” my dad’s deep gravel voice filters through.
“What’s wrong?” I sit straight up, wondering and freaked out if
my parents are okay.
“You didn’t call us last night, like we planned. Your mom and I
were worried.” I can hear the disappointment coming through the
line.
“Crap, I’m sorry. With all the excitement I fell asleep.” A look at
the time on my phone, only moving it away from my mouth for a
second, noticing that it’s 6:15 in the morning. God I hate mornings.
My phone is snatched out of my hands and at the same time I
feel a few of my hairs tugged loose. “Ouch,” I mumble out.
“Sorry,” a giggling Eden spits out. “Hi Mr. Quinn, my name is
Eden Curran. I just wanted you to know that I’m Taylor’s roommate
and I promise to watch after this girl for you.”
I hear laughter coming through the other end of the line. Eden
moves the cell phone away from her ear and covers it so they can’t
hear us. “Your dad is gruff.” She straightens her shoulders,
mimicking a muscleman, doing so horribly.
“Yes Mr. Quinn, I will make sure that Taylor gets everything she
needs. I’m down for the job.” She gives me a thumbs up as she nods
her head and I start to laugh. “Yes, I’ll tell her that you will talk to
her later.” She continues to listen, nodding her head up and down.
“Right after this call I’m gonna text you my number.” Now she just
listens with wide eyes, staring at absolutely nothing on the far wall.
“I would love that. It’s no problem at all. Okay, bye guys.”
With a big smile, Eden tosses my phone back to me. She’s such a
sweet girl.
“Did your parents call you a lot when you first started?” She
looks at me and laughs.
“God no. I think I talked to only my brother once, my parents are
assholes.” I feel sad for her. I love my family to death, I can’t
imagine not being close to them.
I get up and slowly start to get ready as Eden occupies herself
with books and then switching over to the cell phone. I know she’s
just waiting for me, there’s no way I’m passing up breakfast.
Of course the girl is up and ready to go for the day. She’s
wearing the school T-shirt, a black pair of leather pants and ballet
shoes. She totally pulls it off.
My parents have never called me or freaked out like this. Before,
when I was at the community college and even when I went to the
state college. Everything feels off with me being here and I suppose
it should. But I’m not stupid enough to go digging for reasons that I
should leave this college. Why the fuck would I let an opportunity
like this go?
“I need coffee,” Eden laughs. “I thought I said that to myself.” I
throw on a pair of jeans with a cute pair of fluffy socks and then
stuff my feet into my Birkenstocks. Slip on a regular white T-shirt,
one I’ve had forever. One of those comfortable ones you wear when
you really don’t feel like figuring out what you’re going to wear. And
since it’s still chilly this early, heading into fall, I put on my royal blue
Santorin University hoodie.
“We need to walk fast,” Eden states as she passes me slightly in
a jog, her stomach rumbling, demanding food. I laugh as she spits
out, “I’m starving.” We’re college girls in our prime.
Thankfully, halfway there Eden decides to slow her steps,
allowing me the delight of catching up. I’m just as hungry as she is
but it’s a nicer day today, since the sun is starting to peek out now. I
really want to get a look around when it’s not raining.
 I’m doing exactly that as I run right into the back of Eden. I
didn’t realize she stopped in front of me. “Oomph,” I say, quickly
balancing myself before I end up toppling both of us.
I hear the soft sobs of a very curvy gorgeous girl with tears
streaming down her face. Eden moves over to the bench where the
girl is sitting and throws her arm around her. Squeezing the girl to
her side in comfort.
She points between us. “Frankie this is Taylor, and Taylor this is
Frankie.”
Frankie, when she sees me she smiles bright and welcoming,
even though something is silently killing her inside, she lets go of it
for somebody else. I love her already, even though I don’t know why
she’s crying.
I smile at both of them but the girl was sobbing a few seconds
ago, she needs somebody to talk her off a ledge or maybe she just
needed a good cry. Either way, I start walking backwards distancing
myself from them, giving those two some space and privacy to work
out whatever’s going on.
My calf bumps into something behind me, not hard, maybe a
stump or even a chair. I lean back, still watching Frankie and Eden.
Unfortunately, at the same time a screaming nuisance of an alarm
shoots off.
Frankie and Eden are now watching me. I swear I shot up at
least ten feet into the sky but it was probably less than an inch. Both
the girls are giving me an, ‘Oh shit’ face. The alarm scared the shit
out of me, jolting my arms and causing my phone to smash against
the precious metal. It happened when I came back down from that
one inch height.
“Oh fuck,” I say as I get a good look at the fancy fucking car. I
have no idea what it is, but it’s one of those where you could buy a
very nice house instead.
Frankie and Eden jump to their feet and race over to me. This is
happening at the same time a very hot young guy my age, wearing
a very pissed off red face, storms out from the cafeteria doors. At
least we’re close to food now.
 The guy is followed by a horde of hot football players. I
recognize most of them as the people I was told to avoid and stay
away from.
Gee, I wonder if this is his car? I want to really say that out loud,
but that’s the moment that Frankie and Eden get next to me. I take
a deep breath, realizing I don’t have to go through this onslaught
alone.
“Cal Santorin,” one of the girls mumble but honestly I can’t figure
out if it was Eden or Frankie. Both of their faces go pale. Fucking
white as a ghost.
I feel bad but it’s not my fault that I’m really fucking clumsy. Only
in bad situations, rarely ever by myself.
I swear this guy Cal looks like one of those short men in the
cartoons where he has smoke coming out of his ears and his face
keeps getting redder and redder. I chuckle, trying to mask it but it
fails, alerting everyone to my mistake, shit.
I recognize the last name when one of the girls said it and I
recognize the same name plastered all over the sweater that I’m
currently wearing.
“Fucking bitch.” Cal finally makes it up to me and I swear he has
a fucking temper tantrum. He starts walking back-and-forth looking
at his car, pulling at his hair. It looks a little spiky now, highlighting
his red face. I know I made a big mistake but I can’t help it as I
chuckle again.
These people are so fucking rich, can’t they just take care of it?
It’s only a damn car. I’m always a hostile smartass when I feel like
I’m going to be attacked. I do feel a slight bit of remorse because
the guys at the boxing club would flip is something happened to
their bikes.
I pull the five hundred that my father gave me out of my
backpack and try to hand it to him.
Cal starts to howl in laughter, that is obviously not funny. The
howl is deeply disturbing, as his football friends flank him. My gaze
pauses on one guy, noticing that it’s the governor’s son. He shares
the same hateful glare that’s glued to Cal’s tomato covered face.
 “Is this a joke?” Cal spits out as he smacks the five hundred out
of my hand. “You’re going to fucking pay for this.”
“With death and pain bitch,” one of the bigger football players
spits out. I have no idea who the fuck he is but Eden snarls at him,
actually fucking snarls.
“Suck a thumb, Logan,” Eden hisses at the guy, which causes
both Frankie and the other football players to laugh. There’s a story
behind that.
I was nice. I tried to give him the money. All that privileged
asshole did was threaten me. I put my shoulders back, I refuse to be
the shiny new toy for them to have a good time with for the next
year.
Dread pools in my stomach, this Cal leaves a sour disgusting
taste in my mouth.
This is my fucking second time in as many days that I’ve had to
defend myself. Unfortunately for me, or maybe it was a blessing in
disguise, Eden and Frankie fanatically grabbed for me, pulling me
away from everybody else. Eden scooped up the money, stuffing it
back in my backpack.
“What the fuck is wrong with those two?” I snarl as they drag me
away. I still want to go back, I’m lit.
Screw these rich assholes.
“They can make your life hell, be careful,” Frankie says as she
gently squeezes my arm and gives Eden a hug, then walks away.
This year is going to fucking suck, maybe I can get back into
State if I beg and plead.
 Chapter
Five

T aylor
I continue to throw Eden’s stress ball straight up at the ceiling.
I’m lying on my bed in our dorm room. We’re almost at the end of
August and I have officially been here for one week of school. I’ve
made it.
The school isn’t that bad. For the most part the girls and the
guys have left me alone, and hopefully it stays that way for the rest
of the year. As long as my clumsy ass settles down and I don’t say
anything I shouldn’t, it will. I don’t mind being invisible, I could’ve
got my ass kicked, I’m grateful for Eden and Frankie.
Eden is sitting beautifully on her bunk bed, biting her lip as she
taps rigorously on her cell phone. She’s in a plaid mini skirt with a
very tight white blouse. I love her style but I could never pull it off.
I look over at Joss who is sitting at the end of my bed leaning
back a little bit watching the stress ball go up and down. We smoked
a bowl after our last class, so everything is chill. At least we’re not
scarfing everything down at the school cafeteria. Joss is adorable in
comfy jeans and a very ugly flowery shirt. One that her parents
probably made her take or bought her. But she still looks freaking
cute, it would look horrible on the rest of us.
It is eleven o’clock on the dot, that should be a good lunch time.
“Let’s go eat, I’m starving.” They both get up, as Joss puts on a pair
of tennis shoes and Eden adorns four-inch heels. I slip into my
Birkenstocks, it’s warmer today, so no socks.
 Eden gets to our usual table first and snags the iPad punching
and hitting the thing vigilantly. Joss and I both take turns ordering
what we want.
It’s pretty empty and boring in the cafeteria at this moment. The
only thing to do is watch the servers fly by to wait on the few tables
that are actually here. I tried to tip last week because I ordered two
meals and felt really bad, but the gracious server refused it and
pointed to a sign, ‘No tipping allowed.’ I seriously doubt a bunch of
these rich assholes were tipping. It seems like all they do is want to
save their money to make more money.
Our food is being delivered as the gays eventually come and sit
down with us. Pierce squeals in delight when he notices that Eden
has ordered for them. Pizza and fire breathing hot wings, is what
these two eat almost every single freaking day.
“Oh my God, thank you so much, beautiful,” Pierce speaks to her
through a mouth full of food. Eden smiles and nods at him.
We spend the next several minutes in silence as we continue to
shovel food in our mouths. I opted for the salad with everything on
it and a side of French fries, plus three extra sides of ranch dressing.
In the last week I gained five pounds. Even if I gained fifty, I’m not
gonna stop eating.
“Party this weekend. Our first senior party,” Chance states.
“I’ve never been to a college party. Went to my high school ones,
but you don’t really find parties at community and State colleges,” I
say around taking bites of food and then finishing it off with a few
sips of water.
“What?” Pierce looks accosted as he leans back in his chair,
putting his hand over his heart.
“Shut up,” Eden says to me waiting for me to start laughing, that
I was in on the joke, but I’m not.
“You are definitely going,” Chance states, pointing at me with a
French fry he stole from my plate, as Joss and the others nod their
heads.
“Okay.” I shrug, not too thrilled about it. Honestly, with the
determination in their eyes, I don’t see how I can get out of it. “It’s
probably not that different from the high school parties in Queens
that I used to go to. You guys are richer, so maybe the food and
alcohol is better.” I glance over to the football section. “The people
are gonna suck though.” They all burst out in laughter, causing the
tables filling up by us to stare.
As soon as the busboys clean off our table, Eden and Joss start
explaining who everyone is.
“Stay away from him,” Joss says on a shiver. “He’s the governor’s
kid, he’s a freaking slimeball.”
Eden lightly giggles. “I don’t think we need to warn you to stay
away from the others around the slimeball.” I laugh, she’s got a
point. Shit tends to flock to and stay with other shit.
I leaned back in my chair. I still can’t believe the guy’s car I
damaged earlier won’t take the five hundred, I guess he’d rather be
fucking mad, instead. There is no way in hell a tiny little scratch on
it, what I learned now was an Aston Martin, could be more than five
hundred, right? I haven’t seen the same car all week, maybe it’s in
the shop for a freaking scratch.
Eden elbows me in the side. “Look over there.” I look at a crowd
full of people. A lot of them have gathered around a smaller girl who
looks a little timid. “That girl is Katie, she’s a freshman but guess
who her mom is?” I shrug because I have no freaking clue, she
doesn’t even look like anybody familiar.
“Shayna.” My mouth drops. I’ve been listening to her mother’s
music for years. Her words and lyrics have helped me keep my
sanity.
“Wow!” I just stare in shock. I really just want to go over there
and pummel her with at least a thousand questions, maybe get
some pictures, or a blood sample. I am fan-girling big time.
“Of course, you know who Cal is and the people that hang
around him.” I nod, I do. I’ve been trying to avoid them like the
plague. “The name Santorin is huge in the Mafia circuit.” Eden starts
to chuckle, followed by Pierce, Joss and Chance. “The president’s
son was educated in the Mafia school and now we are.” It’s
impossible not to laugh.
“My father used to always say that the government and the
bureaucrats were always in the Mafia’s pocket. The bosses are
running this fucking country.” I nod my head as a few other people
agree with me.
I know not to mess with them. I don’t want one of their
associates to come and kill me in my sleep because I said the wrong
thing or looked the wrong way at them. Shit, maybe they’ll off me
because I accidentally scratched ‘baby boss’s’ car.
At that time, Cal Santorin is followed by a shit ton of the football
crew coming in with the bitch crew right behind them. Sparrow, the
queen leading the way.
I duck my head down, because their eyes are bright and looking
everywhere. I’ve been safe for a week, but Cal promised revenge,
even though I tried to make it right. They stand in line to get their
food, instead of ordering at the tables like their other over-privileged
peers.
I eat in normal, undisturbed silence for the next few minutes,
occasionally glancing up to see if they’ve made their way over to
their tables.
“Fuck,” Chance spits out as he notices all of them walking toward
us.
Great, I’ve come in late, or too early this past week. Through no
fault of my own. I’m trying to catch up with school and learn where
everything is. I’ve been lucky, though, because I narrowly avoided
them and other people that I don’t plan on meeting. It’s stressful
here, there’s so many big names. It makes you feel small. Like a
little goldfish in an ocean of sharks.
I keep my head down, concentrating solely on my food, that’s
what the rest of them do with me at the table. It doesn’t take long
until we are thoroughly interrupted.
There were only a few seats available at our table and Cal snags
one along with Sparrow and the guy that Eden hates, which I
learned his name was Logan. Eden and him have a very rocky past.
Logan decided to go where his dick wanted him to go, even though
he was with Eden for a couple years. They had planned on getting
married later. I hate him, too. I got her back.
A few in their group stand behind just watching, eating from the
trays in their hands, as others find seats close by and sit there. One
of the football players and one of Sparrow’s friends, I believe it was
Harper, squeezed in, loudly dragging chairs to our table.
I’m still ignoring them as much as I can. It all changes when the
five of them slam their trays onto the table, causing my food to
bounce everywhere and everyone else’s.
They sit down. All of their eyes, except for Logan’s, are focused
on me, as they start eating. The message in their glares is received,
promising shit that I’m not gonna like.
I sigh very audible and very annoyed. I’m starting to feel bad
that I’m making everybody’s lunch fucking uncomfortable, because I
have a big mouth and I’m clumsy as fuck.
“Everybody eat,” Cal says with a huge smile. He is the epitome of
darkness. His dark hair and eyes stand out against his tan skin. He’s
hot only on the outside, his insides are fucked. He would be
absolutely stunning, very pretty to look at it, if his hate and
entitlement he wears proudly didn’t make him so ugly.
“Help yourself.” Cal motions to my plate. Unfortunately for me,
my French fries and salad are being thoughtfully shared by a few
football guys now. I don’t remember their names. I know I’ve been
introduced to them in some class.
I just watch them help themselves, at least it’s free. If I was
paying for it, I’d be livid.
“You’re too fat for this anyway,” Harper, Sparrow’s second spits
out. I look down at my body, extremely happy with my weight. I’m
too thin, on account of lack of money and constantly being busy.
“You gonna eat that?” I ask the three girls including Mia, their
third in line out of the trio. All three of them are pushing salad
around their plates with their fork. It makes people think that they’re
eating because they are constantly messing with food in front of
them. Only ever now and then, do they actually put anything in their
mouth.
I look at one of the football players making a mess while eating.
“Do you want me to cut that for you?” I ask him with the sweetest
intentions. He has food all over his mouth.
My stomach growls, reminding me that I’m still fucking hungry.
Thankfully it’s only noticeable to me. I get annoyed and start to pull
my plate closer, causing a couple of the other guys to laugh.
Cal doesn’t like this, using his hand he grabs my plate and slides
it very dramatically to the floor, real fucking mature. They all laugh
of course, as most of the cafeteria joins in.
“Real mature,” I snap out. “This is college, right? Not high
school?” I look between Eden and Joss when I ask my question.
Looking back at the football players, I say, “There is a point in your
life when you’re supposed to grow up and not act like a complete
idiot. Be a structural influence in the world.” I give them a big smile,
realizing that I’m most likely going to get my ass kicked today. The
shit is gonna follow me everywhere.
Cal starts to get his familiar red face again. His eyes are dark,
informing me that he’s about ready to lay down. They don’t give a
fuck that I’m a girl anymore.
“Enough!” Chance booms out, getting everybody’s attention.
“Remember, I know a lot more about you guys than you actually
fucking think,” he growls, making sure to look each of them in their
eyes.
“It’s true,” Eden whispers in my ear. “They all used to be friends,
they grew up together, then Chance came out as gay, and shockingly
everybody went away.” Assholes.
Not quietly or calmly, all of them get up at once. “This isn’t over
by a longshot, Charity.” Cal makes sure to spit out to me as him and
the rest of the players and girls stomp away, letting their irritation be
known to the whole cafeteria. I have barely been here that long, and
already I have a nickname.
My brain targets my mouth before I have a chance to stop it.
“Any chance you can give us the deets?” I ask Chance. “I would love
to hear the whole story.” Everybody breaks out in laughter, as a few
growls and promises of death come from the adolescent group
leaving our table.
We all laugh and continue eating. I share with Eden what she
has left on her plate. She was pushing it around like the other girls
when they were all here, but between the both of us, we have it
gone within seconds.
 Chapter
Six

R eaper
I have always loved Boston. Strangely enough I get a lot of jobs
here. Since I haven’t had much to do for the last week, I leisurely
stroll through the town. It’s nice, it’s like a mini vacation.
Since I’ve been here so many times, it’s calming and relaxing, I
even rented a house on the coast for a couple weeks. Not a big
house, just a little tiny cottage where I go outside every morning
and sit on the beach, like I’ve been doing all day.
In my line of work you don’t find too many options for
destressing. For me this is it, pure relaxation, even if it’s on a beach,
or in a snowy cabin.
My cell phone keeps going off. I’ve been ignoring up for the past
half an hour, thinking that it’s Remy. The guy gets too nervous if he
sits around for too long.
I finally check the text message that I got. It’s from my handler,
the person who brings me jobs.
Handler: 24-year-old male, Christopher Cromwell, Senior at
Santorin University in New York.
The text message always deletes itself a few seconds later. That’s
why my handler was sending multiple messages.
Me: got it.
I’m still sitting on the beach in a wooden recliner chair that goes
with the house. My ass does not want to get up, thankfully I have
my laptop out here.
 In less than one minute, my laptop is open and I’m fully secured
on an encrypted site. You can only get into the site by an invitation
link. I could always use my phone to link to it, but it’s too small. I
like being able to see the whole picture at once.
Apparently the governor’s son, Chris, has raped several students
at Santorin University in New York. Because of his ranking, the
governor’s people tried to pay off all of his victims. Usually from
what I’ve heard and what I’ve seen done, this is a normal
occurrence for those at fault and with connections. One girl he
might’ve got away with, but several? This kid is so fucked, but he
deserves it.
Three sets of parents are the ones that hired me. They can’t
stand this process anymore, the money that keeps getting thrown at
them. I chuckle, don’t the Cromwell’s understand that these people
are rich, too? Their kids also go to the school that charges over a
million a year (yeah, I looked it up). It’s not like they need the
fucking money if they can afford this.
The parents easily raised enough for me to get rid of this fucking
guy once and for all. In the paperwork it states that they think Chris
probably did the shit when he was in high school, too.
He’s twenty-four years old. He should’ve graduated a couple
years ago. He is still working on his bachelor’s that he started when
he was eighteen, right out of high school.
He’s probably just biding his time, because he is getting away
with it, he enjoys it. A classical serial rapist.
I quickly agree to take the job. I click on accept, the payment is
three-hundred grand. I have a soft spot for women and children,
only innocent women (I’ll kill a bitch if she deserves it). Obviously,
the children never deserve it.
I stretch, relishing in the sand on the beach, my location is pretty
empty, but I paid extra for this. I don’t want to be by a public beach
or a family that’s at the beach twenty-four-seven.
Another message comes through. I still have my phone in my
hand so I check it.
Handler: recommend extending your stay longer. There’s a good
chance there will be another student that you need to take care of at
the same university.
What kind of fucking college is this place? Maybe it’s one of those
elite schools where fucking anything goes, most likely.
I head inside, saying a silent goodbye to the place I called home
for the last week. I’m always ready to leave on a moment’s notice
for any job. My bags are always packed. I’m terrified of flying, but
I’ll never admit it, and I don’t trust being in the company of so many
people for so long. I also don’t trust being in a metal tin can that
high up in the fucking air. I envision us all as biscuits waiting to
explode.
Leaving my life in somebody else’s hands? Hell no. I love my
control and I’ll take my chances driving.
First I need to track down exactly where the bitch is. I’ve heard
of Santorin University before, it’s big and very hard to get in to. Chris
is using the governor’s status to get whatever he wants and to get
away with it. The problem is that his father’s letting him do it. Most
likely concerned with his upcoming election. Aren’t all elections
upcoming?
The Cromwell’s preferred to shove it under the rug, avoiding any
type of scandal. The hit should be for the parents instead of the kid.
Scratch that, it should be for all of them.

I t took me less than four hours to drive myself to the college. I was
able to find a hotel to rent not very far away.
I bring out my phone and place a call to Remy.
“What’s up beotch?” He always answers like an idiot.
“I’m at the cafeteria. Are you still planning on helping me with
this case? If I had to make a wild guess, I would say you’re out
college hunting right now.” I found a perfect place in the cafeteria to
park my ass in the corner. I’m twenty-seven fucking years old and
I’m hanging out in a college cafeteria. Awesome.
Remy decided to meet up with me here.
 “I had to take a shit man, but I’m on my way now. Look to your
right.” He chuckles slightly. I look to my right, watching him stroll in.
The poor fool can’t take his eyes off the multiple young and viral
women in this room. Everything is bouncy and very firm. I know that
we can’t stay that long in this place. I need to get Remy out of here.
The idiot sits next to me as we both try to fit in and work on
finding our target. It doesn’t take long until I nudge Remy in the
shoulder, angling my head as my eyes lock on a desperate child
trying to latch onto any girl he can find. Maybe the boy has mommy
issues.
We watch and follow his movements for several minutes. Most of
the students already know what kind of creep he is and to stay away
from him.
I continue to glance around as my eyes land on one of the most
beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life, far more stunning than
the one I got rid of in Boston. She’s too good for this place. The
raving beauty is sitting in the cafeteria with friends, even though her
body movements scream she is very uncomfortable.
My fisted hand slams down hard on the table as my body starts
to lift up, as soon as I see a jerk sitting right across from her throw
her plate to the ground.
Remy’s eyes are like saucers as I silently curse myself. How weird
is it that I can take the lives, but I never protect them? There’s
something that has me enamored by this beautiful specimen.
The senator’s son has long since walked away. I am no longer
following him as my attention is radically forced to the girl, whether I
like it or not. I wonder what she tastes like? What does she smell
and feel like?
I growl out, very noticeably as her dark savior gets rid of the
other guy, with his deep embellished words.
Remy has tried to bring up a conversation, but I ignore him. I
have no clue how long I sit there staring, entranced by the girl
across the room that hasn’t even noticed me.
But Remy and I are definitely being noticed. Students are
surrounding us, as others navigate closer.
 Some can feel my energy and thankfully back away. Most of
them have their eyes on me. Remy and I have about twenty to thirty
college girls and maybe five college boys getting in our personal
space. Not to mention, the tools they refer to as guards plastered in
various spots around those they’re babysitting.
Fuck, I growl, bending my head down and making my way out of
here. I’m pretty sure at least one of them can ID me, and figure out
who I am. I’m done with my surveillance for now, I’m ready to go.
I nod to Remy as he shares a look of disappointment with me,
“we need to get out of here.” I know he’d much rather sit here all
day and take in the view.
I angrily leave the cafeteria, livid, trying to understand how a
woman caused me to lose my shit, unable to focus anymore. I
desperately need to stay away from her.
 Chapter
Seven

T aylor
“Bitches will never know unless they take a Chance,” Chance
states proudly, hitting off a joint before passing it over to the Eden.
“Oh my God,” I say laughing as I toss a pillow at him. Eden takes
a huge hit as she holds it out, snagging the bottle of whiskey from
me and then handing me the joint.
We’ve been trying to get ready for the first college party of the
year. Since we’re seniors, we all need to go but we have been having
way too much fun. Eden and the gays keep trying on clothes, trying
to get Joss and me to try something on but that doesn’t work.
Chance walks around with a constant swagger. He has a small
bottle of whiskey, so he keeps taking sips like if he were the queen
of fucking England. I can’t stop laughing.
“Shit you guys, it’s almost 9 PM,” Pierce states, standing straight
up pointing at his phone.
“Party time,” Eden shouts as her and the guys start dancing
around in a train line in our small dorm room. Only small when this
many people are in here.
Eden looks absolutely gorgeous and very fancy in her leather
skirt and bustier paired with her sky high boots. The guys are in
shirts and dark jeans. Even though it looks like they’re matching,
they’re not, they both pull off their own flair. Joss, who has been my
drinking buddy and my partner in crime, making fun of everyone
else, happens to be in a very old jeans and old band T-shirt with her
feet stuffed into UGGs.
I’m in a pair of leggings with three-inch sandals. I thought I’d
never be able to walk in these things that Eden forced me to wear,
but she took away my Birkenstocks. They are actually fairly
comfortable, easy to navigate. A thick brown sweater that goes right
down to my thighs but shows every curve, is on the top half of me.
It’s very comfortable and cute.
I am totally lit tonight. Sometimes I go weeks without doing
anything but then if the stress comes, usually dominating like a
wrecking ball, that’s when the nightmares come and that’s when the
weed and shots can be a lifesaver.
The nightmares I continuously get never make sense. I’m just
desperately searching, looking for my parents. Before the end of the
nightmare, I find them dead. It feels real, it happens over and over
again, and I can’t make it stop.
My parents had me try sleeping pills when I was younger but
they were horrible and they made me sick. Sometimes they would
cause me to sleepwalk.
My parents, Tony and Tilly Quinn are freaking awesome. They
know what I’m going through and if they ever catch me smoking or
drinking, they never say anything. I don’t do this all the time.
My phone starts to buzz as I notice another text from my dad. I
make a note to call him later, maybe I can find a private area but I
don’t want to leave my friends right now. I’m having a shit ton of fun
and I know that my father’s worried, he’s always worried.
He even stated he was worried in the text message.
Dad: please give me a call. It has been a while since we talked,
worried.
Eden glances down at the phone and chuckles, knowing exactly
what’s going on because she’s listened to him talk. She’s even tried
to calm them both down several times.
Me: I’m fine dad, we’re going to a study group and maybe a
party. I’m surrounded by a lot of people and friends. Love you.
I’ll call tomorrow, when I have more time to talk. I should’ve
done this before. I feel bad but at least he doesn’t text back, so I
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
joka mieluummin tahtoi kuolla kuin uhrata miehensä, saattoi olla niin
tyyni ja uljas…»

»Pyhä isä», sanoi kapusiinilainen, »kun pyysitte tuota nuorta

naista syyttämään Davido Rossia, ajattelitte tätä ainoastaan kirkon ja
sen päämiehen vihollisena, jonka tarkoitus on molempien
hävittäminen ja järjestetyn yhteiskunnan tuhoaminen — eikö niin?»

Paavi nyökkäsi.

»Pyhä isä, jos… jos olisitte tiennyt, että hän oli jotakin muuta…
jotakin lähempää… esimerkiksi… jonkun papin sukulainen, olisitteko
vaatinut hänen syyttämistään kumminkin?»

Vanha kapusiinilainen oli vaivoin lausunut sanansa, mutta paavi

vastasi lujalla äänellä: »Se ei olisi muuttanut asiaa, poikani. Pyhä
raamattu ei peitä Juudaksen syntiä. Pitäisikö siis meidän peittää
niiden synnit, jotka kuuluvat oman perheemme piiriin?»

»Pyhä isä», sanoi kapusiinilainen, »jos teille olisi sanottu, että hän
on sukua teidän omaan ympäristöönne kuuluvalle papille…»

Hän vaikeni ja paavi vastasi hiukan vapisevalla äänellä: »Se ei

sittenkään olisi muuttanut asiaa. Kaikkivaltiaan viholliset vartioivat
yöt ja päivät, ja tulisiko pyhää kirkkoa alentaa hänen palvelijainsa
heikkouden tähden?»

»Pyhä isä, jos… jos teille olisi kerrottu… että hän oli kardinaalin
sukulainen?»

Paavi koetti hillitä itseään. »Sittenkään ei asia olisi muuttunut.

Olen vanha ja heikko, mutta Jumala olisi vahvistanut minua, ja
vaikka minun olisi pitänyt uhrata oikea käteni tai antaa ruumiini
poltettavaksi, niin…»

Hänen äänensä vapisi ja sammui. Syntyi hetken äänettömyys.

»Pyhä isä», sanoi kapusiinilainen kääntäen katseensa pois, »jos

olisi sanottu, että hän on mitä läheisintä sukua itselleen paaville…»

Paavin risti putosi, hän vapisi ja nousi istuimeltaan. »Silloin…

silloinkin… ei olisi… mutta tapahtukoon Jumalan tahto», virkkoi hän,
mutta ei voinut sanoa sen enempää.

Samassa pääsiäiskellot alkoivat soida. Pietarin-kirkon syvä-

ääninen kello kajahti ensin iloisesti kajahtaen ja sitten muut kellot
kaupungin kirkoissa yhtyivät riemusoittoon. Katedraalissa oli esirippu
alttarin edessä reväisty kahtia, ja laulettiin Gloria in Excelsis.

Silloin valkopukuinen pappi astui paavin huoneeseen ja sanoi

polvistuen keskelle lattiaa: »Pyhä isä, ilmoitan teille suuren ilon.
Halleluja! Herra on noussut kuolleista.»

Paavi koetti nousta istuimeltaan, mutta ei voinut. »Auttakaa minua,

monsignor», sanoi hän heikosti, ja pappi nosti hänet seisomaan.
Sitten hän nojautuen papin olkapäähän astui yksityisen kappelinsa
ovelle. Tultuaan sinne kääntyi hän isä Pifferiin, joka aikoi hiljaa
poistua huoneesta.

»Hyvästi, carissimo», sanoi hän surkealla äänellä, mutta

kapusiinilainen ei voinut vastata.

Hetken kuluttua paavi oli yksin. Pienen kappelin kaari-ikkunoiden

edessä riippui punaiset uutimet, mutta kellojen kaiku, urkujen hyminä
ja laulavan kansan äänet, kun suurta Hallelujaa veisattiin, kuuluivat
tuohon pimeään huoneeseen asti. Mutta yli kaikkien äänien alttarin
portailla makaava paavi kuuli yhden ainoan äänen, joka sanoi:
»Sinä, Jeesuksen Kristuksen edustaja! Sinä, kallio, jolle Vapahtaja
rakensi kirkkonsa! Sinä, Jumalan ääni! Sinä erehtymätön! Sinä, joka
istut maailman ylimmällä istuimella — muista, että olet maan tomua
vain!»
XXIII.

»Acqua Acetosa!» »Roba Vecchia!» »Rannocchie!»

Huudot kaduilla kaikuivat Navonan läpi, piazza oli täynnä väkeä, ja

tuntemattomatkin tervehtivät toisiaan kulkiessaan kaduilla, kun
Roma astui kotiinsa. Vanha garibaldilainen toivotti hänelle hyvää
pääsiäistä, ja asunnon ovella seurakunnan pappi, joka oli
pääsiäiskäynnillään talossa ja ruiskutti vihkivettä huoneisiin, hymyili
hänelle ja antoi hänelle siunauksensa. Vanha Francesca asetti
kakkuja, makkaroita ja munia pöydälle ja piilotti sitten kätensä
selkänsä taakse huudahtaen:

»Arvatkaapa signora, mitä minä annan teille!»

Se oli kirje, ja vanha vaimo loisti pelkästä ilosta ja onnesta

antaessaan sen Romalle.

»Trinità dei Montin portinvartia toi sen», sanoi hän, »ja hän kertoi
minulle, että luostarissa nyt on Angelica-niminen maallikkosisar,
sekä pelkäsi, että seuraavat kirjeet ehkä joutuvat hukkaan… Ettekö
ole iloinen kirjeestänne, signora? Minä luulin signoran vallan
kuolevan ilosta ja annoin miehelle kuusi soldia.»
 Roma käänteli kirjettä käsissään ajatellen, kuinka hän ennen oli
iloinnut saadessaan kirjeen Rossilta ja miettien, voisiko hän
ollenkaan avata tätä.

»Niin minäkin tein siihen aikaan, kun Tommaso oli sodassa. Mutta
nyt on pääsiäinen, signora, eikä Pyhä Neitsyt anna teille pahoja
uutisia tänään. Kuulkaa! Tuolla kaikuu Gloria. Minä kuulen aina
kirkonkellot pääsiäislauantaina. Kun tulin kuuroksi, oli Giuseppe pieni
lapsi, ja minä otin kääreet pois hänen jaloistaan, ja hän käveli ensi
kerran. Voi minun pientä raukkaani… Mutta minä saatan signoran
itkemään.»

Kirje oli Zürichistä ja sisälsi seuraavaa:

»Rakas Romani! — Sinun kirjeesi näyttävät juoksevan kilpaa

minun kanssani, jossa kilpajuoksussa minä nähtävästi voitan.
Minun täytyi lähteä Berliinistä, ennenkuin kauan viipynyt postini
ennätti saapua Lontoosta, ja nyt näyttää varmalta, että minun pitää
lähteä Zürichistä ennenkuin kirjeeni saapuvat Berliinistä. Siitä
syystä en ole kuullut sinusta viikkokausiin — en sitten kun kirjoitit
ystävästäsi, muistathan — ja minä olen levoton tietämään mitä
sinulle on tapahtunut sill'aikaa.

Tulin Sveitsiin toissapäivänä, koska asiat ovat käyneet hyvin

kiireellisiksi. Täällä meillä on viimeinen kansainvälisen
johtokuntamme kokous ennenkuin palaan Italiaan. Kokous on
huomenna,
perjantaina, ja lauantaiaamuna lähden Roomaan.

Kuinka toisenlainen palaamisen! on oleva kuin pakoni muutamia

viikkoja
sitten! Silloin olin epätoivon vallassa, nyt olen täynnä toivoa.
Silloin sieluni oli epäilysten raatelema, nyt se on täynnä varmuutta.
Silloin aatteeni oli unelma, nyt se on todellisuus!

Oi Roma, minun Romani, kuinka suloista on elää. Maailma ei ole

mikään Getsemane, ja kun miehen omaksi on annettu niin suloinen
olento kuin sinä, annettakoon hänelle anteeksi, jos hän unohtaa
kaikki pelkoa kuiskaavat äänet. Joskus olen kuunnellut niitä tämän
pitkän ja kiduttavan vaitiolon aikana ja silloin olen tehnyt itselleni
kamalia kysymyksiä. Mitä tapahtuu armaalleni siellä vihollisten
keskellä? Mitä hän saa kärsiä minun tähteni? Hän on uljas ja
kestää kaikki, mutta menettelinkö oikein, kun jätin hänet sinne?
Bruno kuoli ennemmin kuin petti minut, ja armaani on valmis
tekemään enemmän — tuhat kertaa enemmän hänen silmissään
— hän näkisi ennemmin minun kuolevan kuin panisi
vaaranalaiseksi asian, joka on minulle monta kertaa kalliimpi kuin
elämäni.

Älä säikähdä tällaista puhetta, armas. Sydämeni syvyydessä

tunnen, ettei mitään kauheata ole tapahtuva. En ole koskaan ollut
niin varma tulevaisuudesta. Mitä ajanmerkkejä näen kaikkialla!
Englannissa, huolimatta väliaikaisesta taantumisesta, Ranskassa,
huolimatta armeijan voimasta, Saksassa, huolimatta vanhoillisesta,
ahdasmielisestä hallinnosta, ja itse Venäjälläkin, tuossa
despotismin vanhassa linnoituksessa, huolimatta heikontuneen
tsaarikunnan suonenvetoisista kouristuksista ja meidän omassa,
armaassa Italiassamme, huolimatta Vatikaanin jyrinästä ja
Kvirinaalin salamoista!

Addio, carissima! Säilytä minut sydämessäsi, sillä lempi on

vahva kuin kuolema. Jos rakkautemme voisi kasvaa, kasvaisi se
tällaisten koettelemusten jälkeen. Voi hyvin, armas! Hoida hyvin
sitä kallista elämää, jota ilman minä en voi elää. Muistatko, että
helmikuun 2 p:nä erosimme pimeässä kirkon ovella, ja nyt on
pääsiäinen ja ylihuomenna saamme kuulla pääsiäiskellojen soittoa!
Kevät on tullut, ja luonnon muuttumattomassa muuttuvaisuudessa
näen ihmiskunnan ylösnousemuksen ja kuuntelen Jumalan
ylistystä.

Et voi vastata tähän kirjeeseen, rakas, sillä minä olen jo matkalla

Roomaan, kun se saapuu sinulle, mutta sinä voit sähköttää minulle
Chiassoon. Tee niin! Minä haen sähkösanomapojan heti, kun juna
seisahtuu asemalla. Kerro, että olet onnellinen ja voit hyvin sekä
odotat minua, niin luulen näkeväni suloisten huuliesi hymyn ja
silmiesi säihkyn isänmaani kynnyksellä.

Junani saapuu Roomaan sunnuntaiaamuna kello seitsemän.

Ehkä olisin voinut saapua jo lauantai-iltana, mutta eräästä syystä
en tahtonut. Saanko kuiskata sen? En olisi voinut mennä hotelliin,
kun sinä olet niin lähellä — se ei olisi ollut inhimillistä, vai mitä? —
enkä olisi tahtonut mennä Navonalle ennenkuin olemme lopullisesti
vihityt Capitolissa, koska meidän oli pakko siirtää tuo toimitus
tuonnemmaksi. Epäilen hiukan, onko kirkollisella vihkimisellämme
laillista voimaa, koska toinen meistä on kastamaton. Tule vastaani
siis asemalle sunnuntaiaamuna ja anna minun ensimmäiseksi
nähdä sinun kasvosi tullessani Roomaan. Sitten… anna minun
kuulla äänesi ja anna sydämesi riemuita.

D.R.»

Roma oli käynyt yhä kalpeammaksi lukiessaan tuota kirjettä.

Rossin rakkaus ja luottamus masensi hänet. Kyyneleitä kertyi hänen
silmiinsä ja ne alkoivat valua poskille. Mutta hänen sielunsa, joka oli
ollut masennuksissa ja herpautunut, elpyi ja kohosi.
KAHDEKSAS OSA.

KUNINGAS.
I.

Keskellä Eurooppaa, sen vapaimman maan rajalla, vuorien

ympäröimänä, mutta kumminkin kooten keskipisteeseensä kaikista
maista tulevia teitä pyörän puolapuita yhdistävän akselin tavoin, on
pienoinen kaupunki, joka jo kauan aikaa on ollut vapauden kehtona
ja yhä vielä on maanpakolaisten turvapaikkana. Tämä kaupunki on
Zürich, kaupanhistoriassa tunnettu silkistään, mutta valtiollisessa
historiassa aatteistaan, taistelusuunnitelmistaan, salaliitoistaan ja
salaisista rikoksista, jotka ovat järkähyttäneet maailman
valtaistuimia.

Pitkänperjantain iltana istui noin pari-, kolmekymmentä miestä

pienessä ravintolassa järven rannalla illallisella Davido Rossin
palaamisen kunniaksi.

Seurue oli herkkä ja iloinen. Siinä oli vallankumouksen sotilaita ja

unelmien uneksijoita, ja tuskin oli ainoatakaan heidän joukossaan,
joka ei olisi viettänyt osaa elämästään vankilassa. Siellä oli
runoilijoita ja profeettoja, kaikki olivat köyhiä, muutamilla ei ollut
penniäkään, mutta he näkivät loistavia linnoja siellä, missä muut
näkivät vain kurjia majoja. Siellä oli lasallelaisia, marxisteja,
guesdisteja, possibilisteja, boulangisteja ja taivas tiesi mitä kaikkia,
kaikki suurten aatteiden palvelijoita, aatteiden, joiden hyväksi he
elivät, kärsivät ja olivat valmiit kuolemaankin, tuntuivatpa ne sitten
vaikka kuinka toivottomilta ja mielettömiltä käytännöllisistä ihmisistä.
Ja hyvän mielen laupias hengetär oli noitten huomispäivän lapsien
parissa. He söivät saksalaista sianlihaa ja joivat Baselin olutta ja
nauroivat kuin koulusta päässeet pojat.

Sitten seurasi puheita, kiihkeätä yhteiskunnallisen järjestyksen

tuomitsemista ja innokkaita kansainvälisiä ennustuksia.
Ensimmäinen puhuja oli pitkä ja hoikka ranskalainen, jolla oli pitkä,
harmaa tukka ja riippuvat kiinalaiset viikset, päässä leveälierinen,
pehmeä hattu ja yllään väljä viitta, koko ulkomuoto muistuttaen
kuljeksivaa trubaduuria. Hän harrasti ylipäänsä vallankumousta ja
erittäin kuninkaitten hävittämistä.

»Euroopan kruunatut päät pitävät hirveätä melua, kun joku heidän

joukostaan surmataan», sanoi ranskalainen, »mutta mitä sanotaan
niistä tuhansista köyhistä ja sotilaista, joita he yhtämittaa
surmaavat?»

Seuraava puhuja oli Zürichissä asuva italialainen,

hehkuvasilmäinen mies, jolla oli ylöspäin kierretyt viikset ja silmille
vedetty hattu aivan kuin markkinateatterien rosvoilla. Hän tahtoi
hävittää paavin. Hallitsijat, Jumalan kiitos, hävittivät itse itsensä sekä
ruumiillisesti että siveellisesti sukulais-avioliittojensa avulla, joita
turmeltunut kirkko sallii sillä muka ylläpitääkseen Tridentin
kokouksen päätöstä. Mutta paavi, joka tahtoo ikuistuttaa
klerikalismin iankaikkisen tyrannian, koettaa saada valtaansa
ihmisten sielun ja ruumiin, omantunnon ja maalliset tavarat.

»Ilmoittakaamme hänelle, ettei hän voi sitä tehdä», sanoi

italialainen. »Hänen jyrisemisensä Ihmisten Tasavaltaa vastaan on
ainoastaan kuumalla raudalla tanssivan miehen kiljuntaa. Maailma ei
tarvitse paavia, joka ennen aikaan oli vanha mies, mutta josta nyt on
tullut vanha akka.»

Sitten astui esiin iso, pullea saksalainen, pörröpäinen ja parrakas,

isonenäinen ja leukava, mutta silmät ystävälliset ja iloiset. Hän
taisteli ylipäänsä kristinuskoa vastaan ja oli vapauden ja edistyksen
ystävä. Evankeliumi on vanhentunut ja tarpeeton. Se koettaa vetää
pois työtätekevän luokan taistelusta oikeuksiensa puolesta ja
kehoittaa sitä kärsimään ja alistumaan.

»Tässä maailmassa Kristuksen evankeliumi jättää köyhän miehen

oman onnensa nojaan», sanoi saksalainen. »Muutamat ovat
uskovinaan, että uskonto juuri synnyttää uuden yhteiskunnallisen ja
valtiollisen järjestyksen, joka perustuu ihmisten veljeysaatteelle.
Tyhjää puhetta. Ei paise raapimalla parane. Evankeliumi on orjien ja
hupsujen uskoa, jotka eivät ymmärrä sivistystä, ja kansan asia
huojuu laineilla, jotka vielä kerran sen nielevät.»

Sitten seurasi sveitsiläinen puhuja — mies, jolla oli kaunis otsa ja

tuuhea, kiiltävän musta tukka. Hän tuomitsi militarismin ja kiitti oman
maansa onnea, kun sen ei tarvinnut maksaa miljoonia voidakseen
yhtyä Euroopan valtioiden kilpajuoksuun.

Sitten esiintyi jättiläiskokoinen venäläinen, silmät väsyneet ja ilme

kulunut. Hän puolusti myöskin vallankumousta, »48 vuoden
sangviininen yritys uudistettaisiin», »kesäkuun päivät» palaisivat,
köyhälistö saisi taas näytellä osaansa Euroopan valtiollisella
näyttämöllä.

»Sota on sotaa», sanoi venäläinen, »ja minun kansani, joka ensi

kerran tuntee olevansa jäsen suuressa ihmiskunnan perheessä, ei
tule enää kauan tyytymään taisteluun maanalaisien käytävien
pimeydessä.»

Sitten juotiin Davido Rossin malja, ja häntä sanottiin vapauden

uudeksi luojaksi, taivaallisen aatteen jaloksi pyhimykseksi, Mazzinin
pojaksi ja perilliseksi. Kesken innokkaiden huutojen, joita nuo
vallankumouksen vanhat soturit kohottivat, ja käsien tapausten
kaikuessa näkymättömästä kuulijajoukosta (köyhiä miehiä Zürichin
italialaisesta osasta, joka seisoi avonaisen ikkunan alla ulkona),
Davido Rossi nousi vastaamaan.

Hän oli muuttunut paljon Roomasta paettuaan. Hänen tummat

silmänsä näyttivät suuremmilta, hänen pitkä vartalonsa oli
kumarammassa, ja hän oli semmoisen miehen näköinen, joka
koettaa peittää hermostumisen lisääntymistä. Hänen puheensa, joka
lausuttiin liiasta käyttämisestä kuluneella äänellä, oli taitava
ponnistus eri ryhmien yhdistämiseksi.

Hän alkoi lyhyellä kiittävällä lausunnolla kaikista maista, jotka

olivat edustettuina tässä seurueessa. Englanti oli koko maailman
maanpakolaisten koti. Ranska absolutismin hauta ja yksilön
oikeuksien syntymäpaikka, Saksa yhtymisaatteen kehto, Amerikka
valon kantaja pimeyden mailla, Venäjä heräävän kansan kotipaikka,
Sveitsi vapauden tyyssija, ja lopuksi hänen oma rakastettu Italiansa,
oli kaikkien kansakuntien äiti, joka oli määrätty uuden ajan johtajaksi.

Kun hän näin oli valloittanut kuulijansa heti alussa, jatkoi hän
repimällä alas melkein kaiken, mitä he olivat sanoneet.

»Älkäämme tuhlatko voimia hyökkäyksiin kuninkaita vastaan»,

sanoi hän. »Euroopan hallitsijat ovat ylipäänsä hyviä miehiä, jotka
koettavat rehellisesti toimia kansojensa hyväksi käyttäen joskus
sosialismin ja tasavaltaisuudenkin aseita järkähyttääkseen maata
juuri sosialistien ja tasavaltalaisten jalkojen alla. Se on ainoa tapa,
jonka avulla he voivat olla olemassa hiukan kauemmin, ja maailma
voi huoleti jättää heidät rauhaan.»

»Hyvä!» huusi ranskalainen.

»Älkäämme hyökätkö paavia vastaan myöskään», sanoi Rossi.

»Pius X on pyhimys maan päällä, ja jos hän on menetellyt
itsevaltaisesti uskonnon nimessä, kysyn teiltä, kuka meistä olisi
kestänyt kymmenvuotisen vankinaolon samassa talossa, uskoen
itseään erehtymättömäksi ja Pyhän Hengen suoranaisen
vaikutuksen alaiseksi, tulematta huonommaksi, muuttumatta
sokeaksi tyranniksi, ehkäpä mielipuoleksi?»

»Hyvä, hyvä!» huusi loistavasilmäinen italialainen.

»Ja ennen kaikkea, älkäämme hyökätkö evankeliumia vastaan»,

sanoi Rossi. »Ei mikään uskonto ole alkanut työtään niin voimakkain
yhteiskunnallisin tarkoituksin. Jeesuksen sanoma ihmiskunnalle
tarkoitti sekä ihmisen maallista että hänen taivaallista elämäänsä,
eikä kristinusko ole ollenkaan maailmaa kieltävä oppi, jolla ei olisi
päämäärää tässä elämässä. Evankeliumin tarkoitus on perustaa
maan päälle valtakunta, joka on syvä kuin ihmisen kaiho ja puhdas
kuin taivaan valtakunta, ja siinä rukouksessa, jonka muutamat
meistä ovat valinneet yhdistyksemme ohjelmaksi, uskomme
perustaja on antanut meille valon, joka loistaa maailman kurjuuden,
köyhyyden, tuskan ja kärsimyksen yli.»

»Bravo!» huusi jykevä saksalainen.

 »Kunnioittakaamme kirkkoa myöskin», sanoi Rossi.
»Muistakaamme noita pieniä, suloisia kirkkoja, joita on ympäri
kaikkia maita risteineen ja torneineen iäisyyden vertauskuvina.
Muistakaamme niiden alttareita, jotka ovat vaikuttaneet niin syvästi
avioliittoja solmittaessa, kasteessa ja kuolemassa. Muistakaamme
hyviä pappeja ja uhrautuvaisia sisaria, heidän työtään vaimojemme
ja lastemme hyväksi. Pitäisikö meidän hävittää nuo iankaikkisuuden
sanoman tuojat? Jumala siitä varjelkoon!»

»Bravo! Bravo!» Muutamat vallankumouksen epäuskoisista

sotilaista pyyhkivät salaa silmiään.

»Veljet», sanoi Rossi, »me olemme kuningaskuntien, mutta emme

kuninkaitten vihollisia, paavikunnan, mutta ei paavin vastustajia; me
emme tahdo kumpaakaan hävittää väkivallalla. Kuninkaanmurhat ja
vallankumoukset ovat edistyksen estäjiä, ja murha on aina murha,
vaikkapa se tehtäisiin murhan estämiseksi. Sellaiset aseet ovat
kelvottomat sivistyksen sodassa, emmekä me tunnusta niitä
omiksemme.»

Jättiläiskokoiseen venäläiseen tarttui hetken innostus, ja hän huusi

eläköötä täydestä sydämestä.

»Siitä huolimatta me olemme kapinallisia», sanoi Rossi. »Minä

olen kapinallinen. Olen ollut kapinallinen koko elämäni ajan. Olen
kapinallinen oman maani kuningasta vastaan ja paavia vastaan.
Minä läksin Roomasta saadakseni aikaan kapinan, joka
mahdollisesti kukistaisi molemmat. Mutta minun aseenani ei ole
ruuti, vaan tieto, ja teidän avullanne on minun onnistunut luoda
sellainen yhdistysten verkko, että tästälähin koko sivistynyt maailma
tulee tietämään, mitä Italiassa tapahtuu. Jos se onnistuu, on siinä
kyllin. Se tulee tekemään lopun kuninkaista, jotka viettävät juhlia
kansan nähdessä nälkää, paljon varmemmin kuin mikään
kuninkaanmurha. Yleinen mielipide on maailman mahtavin voima,
eikä mikään paha voi elää kauan sen silmien edessä. Miekat ja
revolverit, hurjat metelit piazzalla ja väkirynnäköt eivät ole mitään
verrattuina tiedon voimaan. Kasvattakaa! Kasvattakaa! Yhdistäkää!
Yhdistäkää! Ne ovat meidän sodankäyntimme tunnussanoja ja
aseita.»

Huoneessa olevien miesten hyvä-huudot häipyivät

kättentaputukseen, joka kuului ulkoa. Rossin ääni heikkoni ja hänen
silmänsä säkenöivät, kun hän lopetti:

»Lähden takaisin Roomaan huomenna ja kiitän teitä tästä

hyvästijätöstä. Sen jälkeen kun läksin kotoa kaksi kuukautta sitten,
on kohtalo iskenyt minuun monta kovaa iskua. On ystäviä, joita en
enää ole näkevä — he ovat verellään maksaneet uskollisuutensa.
Toiset ovat kärsineet minun tähteni, heitä on kiusattu, heitä on
kidutettu. Veljet, pyydän teitä muistamaan naisiamme. Emme ajattele
heitä aina. Kun me nuorina poltamme laivamme takanamme ja kun
me siitä syystä, että rakastamme totuutta enemmän kuin itseämme,
valitsemme uran, jossa tuivertaa myrsky ja rajuilma, silloin
unohdamme usein vaimomme, joiden täytyy jakaa kohtalomme. He
eivät ajattele meidän ihanteitamme, ja heidän valtiollinen
mielipiteensä on useimmiten vain toinen nimitys heidän
rakkaudelleen. Sitä suloisempi ja jalompi on heidän uhrautumisensa.
Emmekö kaikki tunne sitä? Jalosukuinen tyttö, hellästi kasvatettu,
ehkäpä loiston ympäröimä, luopuu perheestään ja seurapiiristään
jakaakseen uljaasti maanpakolaisen köyhyyden,
vallankumouksellisen elämän, joka alusta alkaen kantaa maanpaon,
vankilan ja mestauslavan merkkiä. Jumala siunatkoon kaikkia naisia!
Onko sitä miestä syntynyt, joka voisi kestää mitä he kestävät? Ei
ole.»

Rossin puheen loputtua muutamat vallankumouksen vanhoista

sotureista tulivat häntä kyynelsilmin syleilemään. Sitten he oluensa
innostamina tahtoivat saattaa häntä hotelliin, mutta hän hiipi pois
huomaamatta.

Rossi nukkui tuon yön kuullen aaltojen loiskeen rantaa vastaan ja

seuraavana aamuna kello 10 hän oli asemalla lähteäkseen Italiaan.
Pieni joukko odotti häntä asemasillalla, pääasiallisesti italialaisia
kantomiesten ja kadunlakaisijain puvussa. Rossi astui heidän
luokseen tervehtien.

»Menettekö suoraa tietä Roomaan?»

»En. Aion jäädä yöksi Milanoon ja lähteä aamulla Roomaan.»

»Addio, Onorevole!»

»Addio!»
II.

Heti kun juna läksi, Rossi antautui yksinomaan ajattelemaan Romaa.

Missä hän oli nyt? Rossi sulki silmänsä ja koetti kuvitella häntä.
Roma istui lukemassa hänen kirjeitään. Rossi muisti muutamia
niissä olleita lauseita ja näki, kuinka Roma hymyili lukiessaan niitä.
Jumala suojelkoon häntä! Hän tunsi jo Roman pehmeiden sormien
hellän puristuksen ja huolimatta junan jyrinästä hän saattoi kuulla
tuon suloisen äänen.

Kaikki sinä päivänä toi hänen mieleensä Roman. Kun hän avasi
silmänsä, kiiti juna juuri järven ohi, ja nuori, kymmen- tai
kaksitoistavuotinen tyttö katseli ikkunasta järvellä näkyviä valkoisia
purjeita. Hänen suora vartalonsa, hänen varmamuotoinen jalkansa,
hänen kirkas, peloton katseensa ja vielä kehittymätön naisellisuus
hänen olennossaan toi Rossin mieleen Roman Lontoon ajoilta. Tytön
äiti istui vastapäätä Rossia ja katsoi häneen hymyillen.

Kun juna saapui Brunnenin asemalle, Rossi itse seisoi käytävässä

ikkunan luona ja näki asemasillalla nuoren tytön, joka nähtävästi
odotti jotakin henkilöä. Hänessä oli tuota omituista naisellisuutta, jota
ei ainoankaan miehen sydän voi vastustaa, ja hänen hymyilevät
kasvonsa synkistyivät äkkiä aivan kuin pettymyksestä, mutta
kirkastuivat samassa uudestaan, kun nuori upseeri, joka oli tullut
pääsiäislomalle kotiinsa, astui ulos junasta. Tyttö hymyili sinne päin,
missä Rossi istui, ja silloin tuntu aika ja etäisyys häviävän, ja Rossi
oli jälleen Roomassa ikävöivän rakkautensa siivillä.

Juna läksi taas, ja Rossi sulki jälleen silmänsä koetellen muistaa

muutamia Roman kirjeiden leikillisiä lauseita kauniista
englantilaisista tytöistä. Niin, kauniita ne olivatkin ja omalla tavallaan
kauniita olivat myöskin ranskattaret ja saksattaret ja Sveitsin
suloääniset tyttäret. Omituista kyllä, kaikki naiset olivat Rossin
mielestä suloisia nyt. Hän oli kuin nuori äiti, jolle Jumala on antanut
kauniin lapsen. Hänestä tuntuu heti, kuin maailma olisi aivan täynnä
lapsia. Mutta siitä huolimatta hänen omansa on kaikista kaunein.

Luonto ja ihmiskunta näyttivät hymyilevän Rossille sinä päivänä.

Järvet eivät koskaan olleet näyttäneet noin kirkkailta. He kulkivat
aikaisin aamulla Luzernin ohi, jossa valkoiset sumupilvet kiitivät kuin
haamut vuoria kohti. Suuret huiput siinsivät toistensa yli havupuiden
peittäminä, jotka näyttivät Alppien yli samoavilta lukemattomilta
armeijoilta. Alhaalla metsä oli tiheätä ja harveni sitten
harvenemistaan ylempänä. Auringon säteet hyppelivät järven
pinnalla aivan kuin keijukaiset peililattialla, ja kun juna seisahtui
Fluelenissa, sekoittui kosken kohina lintujen lauluun ja kirkonkellojen
sointuun. Nyt soitettiin Gloriaa. Koko maailma lauloi Gloriaa. »Kunnia
olkoon Jumalalle korkeudessa!»

Rossin ilo kävi melkein lapselliseksi junan lähestyessä Italiaa. Kun

oli kuljettu suuren tunnelin läpi, alkoivat uuden rodun merkit näkyä.
Tuolla oli Madonnan kuvia Kristus-kuvien asemesta, kentillä oli pitkät
rivit väkeä kuokka kädessä eikä pieniä ryhmiä auroineen, kuten
äsken, siellä oli isosarvisia jykeviä härkiä eikä vikkeliä, kellokaulaisia
hevosia.

Nuo olivat epäilemättä huolestuttavia merkkejä, mutta Rossi ei

ollut nyt sillä mielellä, että hän olisi sitä ajatellut. Hän avasi vaunun
ikkunan voidakseen hengittää oman maansa ilmaa. Huolimatta
mielipiteistään hän ei voinut olla sitä tekemättä. Tuo omituinen
tunne, joka hiipii sydämeen syntymämaassa, valtasi Rossinkin. Hän
kuuli laulua viinitarhoista, lemmen laulua — yhä vain lemmen. Hän
näki oranssipuut ja valkoiset sekä punaiset ruusupensaat. Silmissä
vilahteli vuoren rinteillä olevia pieniä kaupunkeja valleineen ja
torneineen, ulkopuolella Campo Santo. Hänen huulensa avautuivat,
hänen rintansa paisui. Se oli koti! Koti!

Päivä alkoi sammua, taivas pimeni ja matkustajat rupesivat

torkkumaan. Rossi palasi paikalleen ja ajatteli vakavammin Romaa.
Koko hänen sielunsa liiteli nuoren vaimon luo, joka oli jakanut hänen
kärsimyksensä. Hän luuli lukeneensa rivien välistä Roman kirjeissä
kärsimyksistä, ja hän rupesi täydellä todella moittimaan itseään.
Miksi hän oli kertonut elämänsä salaisuuden Romalle työntäen
hänelle sellaisen vastuunalaisuuden?

Hänen sielunsa taistelu oli lyhyt. Ellei hän olisi luottanut Romaan,
ei hän ikinä olisi rakastanut häntä. Ellei hän olisi paljastanut koko
sydäntään Romalle, ei hän koskaan olisi saanut tietää Roman
rakkaudesta. Ja vaikka Roma olikin kärsinyt, maksaisi Rossi nyt
kaiken hänelle. Hän muisti tuon Campagnalla vietetyn ihanan päivän
ja ajatteli sitten tulevia suloisia hetkiä. Mitä Roma nyt teki? Hän kai
lähettää sähkösanoman Chiassoon. Jumala häntä siunatkoon!
Jumala siunatkoon kaikkia!