Page 133 of Drown Like Heaven
Chapter 35
Dakota
I couldn’t quit fidgeting in my seat, constantly checking the time on my phone, anxiety winding a knot in my gut.
“Do you need to leave?” Dr. Killshaw asked, making me jump with the suddenness of his question in the quiet room.
My wide eyes flew to his, finding his brow arched. “Um. Yes. The bus is going to stop running soon, and—”
“I’m happy to take you home.”
“No.” I shook my head, face warming, palms sweating.Not this bullshit again.“You don’t need to do that.”
“I want to make sure you’re safe, and—” he looked at his watch “—you’re probably going to need to leave right now and run if you want to make the bus.”
My heart clenched in my chest, nerves making my stomach twist. I shook my head again—pointlessly, because he was right; it was already too late—trying not to freak out. It was so similar to the time Mason locked me in his car, let me sleep for hours, that my panic was only multiplying. Now I was thinking about Mason, about his car, about him fucking me and holding me underwater andhurtingme and how I still wanted him anyway—
“Dakota,” Dr. Killshaw said, cutting through my racing thoughts. “It’s not a big deal.”
Right. Because Dr. Killshaw wasn’t Mason. He was different. Safer, in some twisted way.
“Are you sure?” I asked, my tone bordering on fearful.
“Yes?” He said it like a question, like he wasn’t sure why my reaction was this way.Is this normal? Or not?I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything.
“Okay,” I said rapidly, the word a quick blip in the tense atmosphere.
“Okay,” he repeated. “I’ll start shutting things down, then.”
It wasn’t long before we were walking out of the building together under cover of darkness, making our way across an empty campus towards the faculty parking lot. The wind cutting across the lawn was cold, stirring dry, brown leaves on the grass and making my hair tangle around me.
There were only a handful of cars in the dark lot, and I had no guesses as to which one belonged to my professor. None of them seemed to fit the image I had in my mind. He led me to an old tan Chevy truck, well-kept for its age. He opened the passenger door and I hopped in, the bench seat smooth under my palms. I dropped my bag at my feet and waited for him to reach the driver’s side.
The door opened with a creak and Dr. Killshaw climbed in, then slammed it shut. He started the engine. I couldn’t help noticing how much space he took up in the cab.
“I didn’t expect that you would have a car like this,” I commented, idly running my fingertips over the leather seat.
“I have two cars. One is at my house.”
“What’s the other.”
“Audi A7.”
“Why do you drive this if you have that?” I couldn’t imagine having such a nice car and choosing not to use it. Sometimes I thought about trying to buy a really cheap used car, but I was afraid of using up all my savings to buy something that wouldeventually need expensive repairs, and gas every week. There was an unavoidable level of uncertainty with owning a car, and I couldn’t afford uncertainty.
“I do drive the other car, just not today. I like this one. I’ve had it for a while.”
“Oh, okay.” I looked out the window, the bench seat inspiring a myriad of sweaty fantasies in my brain.
“Could I have your address?”
Fuck. I forgot why I was actually in here.
For some reason, I didn’t want to give him my actual address. After a too-long pause that likely made him suspicious of me, I gave him the address to Mila’s apartment. He didn’t question me, though.
“I know you heard what Nick said,” he said as we pulled out of the lot.
“What?” My voice came out thick, so I cleared my throat.
