The Darkness at Fall's Creek: A College Bully Romance

By K.V. Rose

Sometimes it's not the dead who haunt us. Terrify us. Torment us. It's the living.

Dante

I've been watching her for two years.

Two years I've dominated this college, on and off the court, and she hasn't looked my way once. But, tonight, it's Halloween. And, tonight, she's the one who's getting haunted.

Tonight, she's going to find out that she's mine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
• Release date: Jun 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781839434006

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Author

Totally Bound Publishing books by K.V. Rose

Anthologies

Bully for You: The Darkness at Fall’s Creek

THE DARKNESS AT FALL’S CREEK

K.V. ROSE

The Darkness at Fall’s Creek

ISBN # 978-1-83943-400-6

©Copyright K.V. Rose 2020

Cover Art by Claire Siemaszkiewicz ©Copyright June 2020

Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Totally Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

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Published in 2020 by Totally Bound Publishing, United Kingdom.

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Sometimes it’s not the dead who haunt us. Terrify us. Torment us. It’s the living.

Dante

I’ve been watching her for two years.

Two years I’ve dominated this college, on and off the court, and she hasn’t looked my way once. But, tonight, it’s Halloween. And, tonight, she’s the one who’s getting haunted.

Tonight, she’s going to find out that she’s mine.

Dedication

To anyone who ever fought past fear to find something stronger to hold on to.

Trademark Acknowledgements

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Adidas: Adidas AG Joint Stock Company

Ozzy Osbourne: Monowise Limited

Styrofoam: Dow Chemical Company

Mercedes: Daimler AG Corporation

NBA: NBA Properties, Inc.

Chapter One

I was the only one in the entire jock-filled classroom dressed in black. There was a sea of orange and blue—Caven University’s school colors—and a few boys in blue-gray sweats and white, fitted V-necks.

But I was the only one in black.

And, probably, the only one here who wasn’t planning to go on to play a professional sport or fall back on Daddy’s dream of law school.

I didn’t have a daddy.

I had no intention of going to grad school.

And my hand-eye coordination meant the only sport I was okay with was running, and that was just to stay in shape.

Thankfully, the lecturer dismissed sports psychology early, and I threw my notebook into my bag and stood, ready to get the hell out of there. It was Halloween night. How no one here in this bubble of testosterone and sweat could respect that with appropriate colors was beyond me.

You dropped something. Fuck.

I looked up, startled, and stopped trying to edge my way out of the stadium-style seats. A boy in a gray hoodie and dark blue shorts blocked my path.

What? I asked, confused, hefting my backpack higher on one shoulder.

The room was emptying and I wanted to get back to my dorm to prepare for horror movie night with my best friend, Holland.

The boy smirked.

A pencil, he said, jerking his chin to indicate the floor. I glanced down, and saw that I had, in fact, dropped my mechanical pencil on the floor. Black, like my ripped jeans and hoodie.

I bent down to pick it up, but, right before I did, the boy’s dark blue Adidas landed on it with a crack.

I jerked back, my face heating as I met his gaze.

He had hazel eyes, brown hair shaved on the sides and longer on top, and he was nearly a foot taller than me.

What the fuck? I spat, angry.

I heard laughter behind me and turned to glance over my shoulder. A small group of Caven’s cheerleaders and—I assumed, based on their shorts and jerseys—basketball players were watching us in amusement.

I turned back to the boy.

He was smiling, but it was anything but friendly.

Why’re you in this class, Freckles?

I was positive my face—and freckles—were a shade of tomato red. I didn’t