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No matter what the result is tonight, I am going to dress for me. I put on my favorite red dress. It is form-fitting but stretchy, so it is comfortable. It dips down in the front and comes almost to my knees. I pull the clip out of my hair, so my chocolate brown hair falls in waves down my back before I touch up my makeup. I decide to wear matching red heels and look in the mirror, I look amazing. I love getting dressed up, even if I just stay at home. It gives me confidence to exist and makes me happy. I know this dipshit will think I got dressed up for him, but I did not. If a man does not like me in my casual clothing, why in the fuck would I dress up for him or get naked? That is a moot point, because I am still dressed up. Although, I am not getting naked for him. If he already gives ick vibes off after three texts, like hell if I am letting myself be alone with him.

Once it is time to go, I step out of my dorm and walk down to meet my Uber. Getting a ride back will be a nightmare, but I can always walk home or carpool with someone else. Once I get in, I ride in silence to the restaurant bar combination. I am nervous as hell, and I just have a weird feeling in my belly. I know I do not want to be here but there is no rule that says I have to stay. I always remind myself that I do not owe anyone an explanation of my life.

“Hi,” I say to the host. “I am supposed to be meeting someone here. Last name is Jensen?”

“Yeah,” she smiles. “I’ll take you to the table.”

I smile politely and walk with her to one of the back booths. “Charlie?” I ask. He looks me up and down with a smile before standing.

“Mila. It is good to meet you,” he says, hugging me. I am not normally opposed to touch, but from him it is just plain awkward. “Sit with me?”

He motions for me to sit on his side of the booth, but I take a seat across from him so that I am not trapped. I can tell right away he does not like this choice. “It’s a wonderful night,” I say sweetly. “Do you attend St. Valentines?”

“I do,” he says, sitting back with a smug smile. “I’m surprised you don’t recognize me.”

“Oh, I keep to myself, so I don’t recognize many people,” I say simply.

“We had two classes together last year,” he says flatly. “I sat behind you in both.”

“Oh,” I say. Oops. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I am always super focused on my work. I don’t do much else.”

“Hmm,” he says. “What is your major?”

“Psychology. You?” I ask.

“Business administration. I am getting an MBA,” he says with a smug tone. He takes the last sip of his drink and then snaps at the server, putting an order into a computer nearby.

Did he just fucking snap at her? Who the fuck does that? “Yes, Sir?” she says warmly when she walks over.

“We are ready to order,” he says.

“Oh, are we?” I ask sarcastically. I haven’t even looked at the menu.

“She will have the grilled chicken salad, and I will have the six-ounce filet,” he says. “Oh, and two glasses of your best red wine.”

“Just water, please,” I say sweetly. He gives me a disappointed look before handing her the menus. When she walks away, he smirks.

“What?” Charlie asks.

“Why did you order for me?” I ask.

“You looked that the type who would order a salad on a first date,” he says coolly.

The fucking audacity of this man. I know he just called me fat in a not-so-subtle way. I know I have a big ass, and my breasts are spilling out of my bra a lot of the time. Shit, I even have some belly fat, but I am beautiful. I am worthy of respect no matter my size and clearly not many people have an issue with it because I can still pull men and get fucked with just a few texts if I really wanted to.

“Mhmm,” I say simply. “I was actually going to order a burger, but thanks for assuming.”

“A burger?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Yeah. Do I not look like the type to eat a burger?” I ask innocently.

“Here is your wine,” the server says as she sits it down. “And your water… How are we splitting the check tonight, guys?”

“Toge—” he starts to say.

“Separate please,” I say kindly.

“Not a problem, sweetie,” she says, clearly picking up on the vibe that I do not want to be here.

“What are your plans after dinner?” he asks, sipping his wine.

“Go back to my dorm and meet a friend,” I say.

“I was thinking you could join me at my place. My housemate is throwing a party,” he says. “Could be fun.”

“I don’t do parties,” I say. “Thank you, though.”

“We could just hang out in my room.”

“I also don’t go home with people on the first date,” I add with more hostility.

“Oh? Riley said you have sex casually. How is this any different?” he asks. When he sets his glass down, his hand bumps the saltshaker, and it crashes to the floor. He does not move to pick it up, so I do. This fucking man child is on my nerves and I've been here three minutes. When I lean back up and set the salt down, he is pulling his hand away from my side of the table.

This sick motherfucker. I can see a small bit of powder on the rim of the glass, and I look up at him in shock that he would be so obvious about trying to drug me. I look over at the server and I can tell that she saw because her eyes are wide, and she shakes her head at me as she stands with what looks like a manager.

“I think I should go,” I say. “I would say it was lovely to meet you, but it wasn't. I really should not have even come out at all, so I am sorry for wasting your time.”

“Wait,” he says as I stand. “What’s wrong?”

I turn and glare at him before I pick up the glass and blow the powder off the rim. When he chuckles, I toss the water in his face and slam it down on the table.

“You bitch!” he gasps and shoots up from his seat. I quickly grab my bag and turn on my heels to get the hell out of here before he can react. The manager promptly steps between us so he cannot follow me, and I leave the restaurant.

“Fuck,” I sigh as I walk along the sidewalk. It is dark outside, so I do not want to hang out for too long. I pull up my app to Uber back to campus and see that the prices have quadrupled since I have been here. Fuck that. I will walk home with the grim reaper before I pay fifty dollars for a two-mile ride. It’s a straight shot down this road and it is lit the entire way, so I know I am okay. Campus security won’t like it very much, but they will be okay.

I get about a half mile down the sidewalk before I stop and rest my feet. This is going to be a long walk home, but I am going to keep looking at the app and see if the prices get cheaper. Before I go to move again, I text Veronica.

Date was trash. He was a dick and basically called me fat. Oh… Then the dumbass tried to drug me after I said I didn’t fuck random people. Left powder on the rim of the glass, so I knew not to drink it. Walking back now and checking prices for Uber. Love you.

As I go to find her contact to send it, I hear footsteps close by. Alarm bells start going off in my head, so I quickly tap her contact and send before slipping my phone into my bra. When I glance behind me, I see Charlie.

“Aw, shit,” I say as I walk faster.

“Aww. Why are you running from me, Mila?” he says as he gains on me. These heels have straps, so I can’t get them off fast, but if I run in them I’m going to have a broken ankle, and I’ll still get attacked.

“Leave me alone, Charlie,” I say firmly.

“Leave you alone? Baby, don’t be like that,” he says as he grabs my wrist. I try to pull away, but he yanks me toward him, and I lose my balance. Like fucking clockwork, he wraps his arm around my waist and his hand covers my mouth before I can scream. I throw my elbow back and hit him as I try to slip away from him, but it’s like he’s immune to the pain.

“You think you are going to throw a drink in my face and just walk the fuck away?” he growls as he drags me into an alleyway between a closed nail salon and a print shop. “Someone needs to teach you a goddamn lesson on respect.”

I scream and fight against his hold, but he doesn’t budge as he pulls me behind a dumpster and out of the view of people. He slings me down to the asphalt. I scream as loudly as I can, “Help!”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, as he straddles my legs. I start hitting him as tears flood my vision.

“Stop! Get off me. Someone help me! Please!” I scream through broken tears. He leans into me and covers my mouth again, pinning my head to the cold ground as he rips my panties off. I scream and sob against his hand as I hit him over and over. It’s like the more I beat on his chest and try to push him off, the more fueled he becomes.

Charlie uses his knees to force my legs apart and a sickening feeling settles in the pit of my stomach when I fully realize that he is about to rape me. All because I rejected him. He spits into his hand a few times to coat his dick before forcing it into me with a grunt. “Not so fucking mouthy now, are you, bitch? You think you can reject me?” he grumbles as he slams his hips into me over and over. I am still hitting him and trying to pull his hand off of my mouth so I can scream for help, but he lays his body weight on me and quickens his pace.

“This is my fucking cunt now. You are mine,” he growls. “Stupid fucking bitch… I would have been so good to you… All you had to do was drink the goddamn water.”

I give up on trying to scream and feel around for anything I can hit him with. I don’t want this. I want him to stop, but he just keeps going harder. He is grunting like a pig, and his sweat is dripping off of him and onto me. My hand lands on something long and skinny, so I use every bit of force I have and slam it into his side.

Charlie’s eyes go wide, and he stops moving. “Bitch,” he mutters as he wraps his hands around my throat and squeezes. When I can’t breathe, I panic and pull the object out before slamming it into him again. I do this over and over again until his body goes limp, and I can breathe again. I am still sobbing as I kick his body off of mine and crawl over to sit beside the dumpster. I pull my knees to my chest and hug my legs as I rock myself.

I feel hands on me, and I scream, but I am quickly pulled up from the ground and a hand covers my mouth. I keep screaming, but I finally hear his voice. “It’s me. It’s Gunner. Professor Vega, Shh. I’ve got you, Mila. Breathe.”

I instantly relax and he uncovers my mouth. “I didn’t mean to,” I say tearfully. “I just wanted him to stop… I didn’t mean to. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“What happened, Mila?” he asks, taking my face between his hands. “You texted me and said he tried to drug you?”

“Yeah,” I sniff. “I was trying to send the text to Veronica. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, love. What happened?” he asks again. He is holding my face so I can’t look at Charlie’s body. His hands are warm and it’s soothing.

“I heard someone close, so I sent the text… I tried to get away from him. I tried, but my heels aren’t easy to get off and I can’t run in these… he wouldn’t let go of me… I screamed and… he raped me… I just wanted him to stop, but he wouldn’t. I... was trying to get him off me and I grabbed something. I hit him with it once and he started choking me. I panicked when I couldn’t breathe and just kept hitting him until I could breathe again…”

“Shit. Okay… I want you to do me a favor, okay?” he asks. “I want you to stay right here. Do not move. I am going to get my truck, and I will be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” I whimper.

“I mean it, Mila. You stay right here,” he repeats, and I nod.

He disappears into the darkness, and I do what he says. I don’t move an inch, and I just stare at Charlie’s body. I am afraid he will get up and hurt me again, so I stay as quiet as possible, too. A few minutes later, a red truck backs down the alleyway and stops in front of me. The professor jumps out and comes over to me. “Are you hurt at all?” he asks as he fixes my dress. “You are covered in blood, my love. Is any of it yours?”

“N-No,” I stammer. I feel out of my goddamn mind right now.

“Okay. Can you help me lift his body?” he asks.

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” I ask.

“Mila, his father is an extremely wealthy man…”

“They’ll blame me,” I say, and he nods. “I’ll go to jail.”

“You’d be charged at a minimum,” he says. “Charlie Jensen raped a girl last year. When she spoke up, his dad got her expelled from school. We are past the point of the cops, okay?”

“I don’t want to go to jail,” I say, dropping my head. “I just wanted him to stop hurting me…”

“Mila, honey,” he says as he lifts my chin. “You have done nothing wrong, and you will not go to jail. I promise, okay?”

“Okay,” I say when I allow myself to actually see him. He is calm and collected. He’s not bullshitting me. “Let’s pick him up then.”

“Good girl,” he smiles. “You get his feet.”

Together, we pick up Charlie and toss him onto a tarp that is laid out. When the tailgate is closed, He lays out a blanket in the front seat of his truck. He picks me up and sits me in his truck before laying another blanket over me so he can buckle the seatbelt without getting blood on it.

“Professor…”

“Gunner,” he corrects me. “I am not your professor right now, Mila.”

“You’ve done this before,” I say confidently. He stares out the front window and we drive in silence for a while.

“Yes,” he says after a beat.

“Why are you okay telling me that?” I ask.

“Because you are an accomplice and we both know that bastard had it coming,” he says bluntly. “Want me to be straight up with you?”

“Please,” I say.

“I kill and dispose of people like him. Rapists, pedophiles, wife beaters, and people who hurt or kill innocent people,” he says. “I shave their heads, pull their teeth, cut them up, and feed them to my pigs.”

“I… don’t know if I should laugh, cry, or throw myself out of the truck,” I admit. “You’re… You teach human sexuality, Gunner. We talked about clits today.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Everyone has secrets, Mila.”

“Do the cops know?” I ask.

“Mmmm. Yeah,” he says. “The media calls me the…”

“St. Valentine Butcher,” I say.

“Mhmm,” he says. “I used to just cut them up and spread them out. Now, I have the pigs. A neighbor got sick, and I took them on… so now they clean up my messes.”

“Are you going to…? Do I have a better chance if I throw myself out now or…?”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, flashing me a smile.

“I just killed someone,” I say.

“You did. Do you feel bad?”

“No. I just don’t want to go to jail,” I say. “Thank you for coming to help me.”

“You’re welcome, Mila,” he says gently.

“Why did you come so fast?” I ask.

“Because I knew you needed help.”

“No, I mean… Why do you care?”

“Honestly?” he asks, and I nod. “I… care about you. When you said you were going on a blind date, I was worried. You seemed nervous in a bad way, so I wanted to make sure if you took me up on my offer that I was there to help.”

“But why…”

“Because I like you, Mila,” he says bluntly. “Do you know how hard it is to sit in that class and talk about the female anatomy when all I can picture is you on my cock?”

“I… did not expect that to come out of your mouth,” I laugh.

“I can be a bit too blunt and abrasive, so please forgive me for not being… sensitive to the situation,” he says. “I do care, and it breaks my heart that he hurt you, but… I have to filter, I guess.”

“Oh… because you mentioned wanting to touch my female anatomy twenty minutes after a tiny dick predator raped me?” I ask.

“I don’t know how I feel about that wording,” he laughs.

“Wanna know a secret?” I ask.

“Sure.”

“I think you were literally made from angel tears. You are so damn attractive. I would let you touch my female anatomy, Professor Vega.”

“You, little missy, are a brat,” he says with a smile. “Anyone ever tell you that before?”

“Mmmm. No,” I say. “Well… you have.”

“I’m going to get myself in trouble with you, Ms. Hart,” he says with a tone I recognize, only now I know it’s flirty.

“Really?” I deadpan. “My rapist is in a tarp in the back of your truck on the way to become pig feed and you wanting to touch my lady parts is what you think will get you in trouble?”

“Alright. You’ve got to call it something different,” he laughs.

“Okay,” I smile. “You think that you wanting to try and fuck the brat out of me is bad, even though there is a dead guy in your truck?”

“Love, the dead guy isn’t the one in my classroom three times a week or the one I want to bend over my desk and fuck every time she makes an excuse to be alone with me… and for the record… There is no try about it. I will fuck the brat out of you,” he says seriously.

“Good luck,” I say with a grin.