Chapter 4
Marguerite tucked her books into her borrowed backpack. She still hadn't found her Prada. She couldn't imagine what had happened to it. She'd checked the lost and found at the library a dozen times. It wasn't like her to lose something like that.
Sighing, she got up from her desk to head off to the library and meet with her group.
As she left the building and headed across the lawn, she wasn't paying attention until she heard a man calling out, "Maggie." His voice was so deep and rumbling that it sent a shiver down her spine.
There was only one person she knew who held a voice like that. Only one person who called her Maggie nowadays...
Pausing, she turned to see Wren coming toward her from the street. He moved with a graceful, masculine lope that sent a heated wave through her. He had on a pair of faded jeans that had holes in both knees, black biker boots, and a black T-shirt with a ragged red and black flannel shirt worn over it that he'd left unbuttoned.
She'd never known anyone to dress so haphazardly, and there was something about the clothes that made him seem like a young teenager.
But that aside, it was obvious that he was completely ripped. A fact she knew firsthand since she'd seen him without those shirts on. There was also a dangerous confidence about him that said he was a lot older than he appeared at first glance.
He kept one arm behind him as he moved to stand just before her. She shivered at his commanding presence. He was so much taller than her, and those eyes...
There were times when they didn't seem quite human.
"Should you be upright?" she asked.
He shrugged with a nonchalance that she couldn't fathom. "I told you it wasn't fatal." He brought her backpack around from behind him. "But I thought you might want this back. You left it in the bar the other night."
"Oh, thank goodness!" she said, delighted to have it returned to her.
"You stunned me so much when you came to my room yesterday that I forgot I had it."
She smiled up at him, grateful that he'd gone to such trouble to bring it here. "You didn't have to bring it to me. You could have just called and I would have come for it."
"I didn't have your number."
"Oh," she said as she realized that she hadn't given it to him. Which brought up another question. "How did you find me here?"
He didn't answer. In fact, he looked rather uncomfortable at her question. "I should be going."
"What the hell is this?"
Marguerite looked past Wren's shoulder to see Blaine with a group of his frat brothers. She drew a sharp intake of breath. This wasn't good. Knowing Blaine, he'd see this as a direct violation of his territory by Wren, and with his friends backing him, there was no telling what he might do. Blaine could be a total prick when he wanted to.
"It's none of your business, Blaine," she snapped in warning. "Go on and leave us alone."
He didn't take her obvious hint.
Blaine glared at them. "What are we having here, revenge of the busboy? In case you haven't noticed, pal, there aren't any tables out here in need of cleaning."
She could sense the rage that was swelling inside of Wren. Luckily, he was holding it back.
She glared at Blaine. "Leave him alone, Blaine. Now."
Blaine sneered at Wren as he raked a disgusted stare over Wren's clothes. "What? Can't you afford a real pair of pants? Or are you so hot natured, you need natural ventilation?"
"Blaine," she growled.
"What kind of hair is that?" another of the frat boys asked. "Don't you ever wash it?"
"It's dreads, mon," another answered in a fake Jamaican accent. "All the better for smoking the ganja, don't cha know?"
Blaine tsked, then passed a feigned sympathetic look at her. "Really, Margeaux, why are you hanging with such lowlifes? I know you can't help who your mother was, but damn, woman, I would think your father's genes would take some dominance."
"I'm sorry, Maggie," Wren said in a quiet voice. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"You're not embarrassing me," she said between clenched teeth. "They are."
Still Wren didn't look at her. He started away from her, heading back toward the street.
"Yeah, keep walking, busboy," Blaine said in an acidic tone, "and don't come sniffing around her anymore."
As Wren moved past them, Blaine shoved at him. Wren's reaction was swift and violent. He slammed his fist straight into Blaine's face. Blaine hit the ground hard as his frat cronies jumped Wren.
"Stop!" Marguerite shouted, afraid they would hurt Wren. But to be honest, he was cutting through them with little difficulty. He slung one over his back, onto the ground, then punched him hard while the other two were swinging at him.
All of a sudden, campus security was there, pulling Wren off. He turned on the officer with a growl and slugged him before he realized it wasn't another student.
The other officer pulled out a club and struck Wren's injured shoulder with it. He growled loudly and shoved the officer back. Marguerite realized that Wren was about to attack him as well.
"Wren, stop!" she shouted. "They'll hurt you."
He froze instantly.
"I want that bastard arrested for assault," Blaine snarled as he wiped at the blood on his face. His nose was a total mess.
"Don't worry," the officer said as he cuffed Wren's wrists together behind his back. "He's going straight downtown."
Wren's face was stone as he said nothing in defense of himself.
Marguerite was livid over this. "He wasn't doing anything wrong. They attacked him first."
"Bullshit," another frat boy said as he wiped the blood from his lips. "He hit Blaine for no reason. We were just protecting our brother from being mauled by this animal."
"He doesn't even belong here," Blaine added. "He's town trash who was trespassing."
The officer Wren had struck tightened the handcuffs to the point where she could see that they were biting into his wrists.
Still Wren said nothing. Nor did he flinch or show any emotion whatsoever.
"Are you a student here?" the officer asked him in an angry tone.
Wren shook his head.
"Then why are you on campus?"
Wren didn't answer.
The officer was getting even angrier as he tugged at Wren's cuffed hands. "Boy, you better answer me if you know what's good for you. Who invited you here?"
Wren kept his gaze on the ground. "No one."
"He was my guest," Marguerite said.
Wren gave her a harsh stare. "She's lying. I don't even know her."
Marguerite's heart clenched that he was trying to protect her so that she wouldn't get into trouble, too. As a student, she was responsible for anyone she invited onto campus.
Meanwhile there was no telling what the police were going to do with him.
She started to speak up and tell the truth, but the look on Wren's face kept her silent. She could tell he didn't want her to contradict him.
A police car pulled up to the curb.
Feeling completely helpless, she watched as they took Wren and placed him roughly into the car.
"Wait until my lawyers get through with him," Blaine said with a laugh. "That bastard will be serving a life sentence for this."
She turned on Blaine with a lethal glare. "You are such an asshole. You can forget ever interning with my father. Hell will freeze over before you step one foot into his office."
"Margeaux..."
She wrenched her arm away from his grasp and headed in the direction of her car. She needed to find a lawyer for Wren. There was no way she was going to leave him in jail when he hadn't done anything other than protect himself.
Six hours later, Marguerite hesitated in the police station as she felt a wave of fear go through her. She'd never been near such a place. It was cold and sterile. Eerie. More than that, it was frightening. She hoped that she never had to visit such a place again.