Stalked by my Professor Novel

Chapter 64 I flick my finger against the bright yellow police tape barring Haven's room. The dean sent an update to all faculty members early this morning, informing them of last night's break-in at the Gamma Alpha Zeta house. Whilst I was glad my curiosity was finally sated, the explanation didn't sit well with me. I kept wondering why Haven was booking it from the scene of a crime last night. Not exactly the actions of an innocent person. That she disappeared inside Kai's frat house made me even more suspicious.

I spent most of the evening trying to convince myself not to come down here again. Curiosity clawed at me the whole night, forcing me to toss and turn when all I wanted was a decent night's sleep. Instead, I snorted coke at thirty-minute intervals and wrote a scathing letter to my mother I know I'll never send. I've written her stacks over the years. Follow current novᴇls on FindNovel.net It's supposed to be cathartic, but it only ever feels like digging up a corpse and taking a good hard whiff. Fuck knows why I still do it.

When the sun rose, and I was still awake, still wired, still desperate to know what the hell the cops were doing outside this sorority house last night...I forced myself not to drive over here. Instead, I took a shower, got dressed in chinos and a black cashmere shirt, and prepared next week's lecture. I already have notes from the previous year's classes, but there's always room for improvement. Things were going so well for me. Then I got that message from the dean about the break-in.

Next thing I know, I'm in my Tesla, flying down Earl Avenue at sixty miles an hour, nauseated by the gasoline backdrip of a fresh line of coke. I thought I'd be walking into a sorority house filled with anxious girls and annoyed security, but when I let myself in the back door after no one answered my knock, I found the place empty. No sign of visible forced entry. Everything in its place. Downstairs, that is. So I headed upstairs, receiving an extra-strength dose of déjà-vu from Tuesday. But there was no chance of finding Haven in her room today. I could tell the house was empty.

The rooms, unoccupied. I assume everyone is still at whatever frat or sorority house they slept over at, recovering from hangovers. Which means there's little chance of being interrupted soon. The Greek system is nothing but a bunch of entitled kids forming rebellious syndicates so they can party and fuck and bully as much as they want to without consequences. AHC tolerates them like any other college, because it's easier to clean up their messes than deal with the backlash of putting an end to an age-old tradition.

Especially since cleaning up those messes involves money, and parents are generous when their children have misbehaved. I knew what I'd find before I even saw the neon-yellow tape on Haven's door. It's unlocked, and all it takes is a light tug on the tape to open a gap large enough for me to step through. This wasn't a break-in. Ransacking someone's room to find valuables is one thing. Whoever did this wasn't looking for money or jewelry. They-he-sought catharsis. Haven's mattress is slashed. The duffel bags on the floor have been split open.

Tattered, ripped clothes spill out like polyester intestines. Revenge masked as vandalism. There's only one person I know who's remotely capable of this level of malicious destruction. Question is, what pissed off Kai this much? But it's not a matter of what, is it? It's a matter of who. I'd love to let this play out a little longer, see how badly my pets maim each other before I step in, but it might be time that I intervene in this clusterfuck of a relationship. Wouldn't want them ripping themselves apart before I can.

I take my phone out of my pocket and access my hidden apps folder as I turn to leave. If Kai took something, it wasn't of import to me. I'm almost at the foot of the stairs when I hear the kitchen door open. Guess someone else knows where the spare key is. I hesitate, listening intently, then slowly retreat up the stairs, avoiding the creaky one. I'd rather not have to explain my presence to a vapid sorority girl right now. Especially if there's a chance she might burst into tears or something equally hysterical.

I plan to slip into a room until I can leave undetected, but then I hear a familiar sigh. Haven appears on the stairs a moment later, limping and wearing some jock's football jersey. Fuck, she's a mess. Traces of makeup smudged into her lower lashes, hair chaotic. But she's my mess, and I'm not going anywhere until I know who the fuck thought they had the right to dress her in their clothes.