Her Hidden Secret - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
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I was in a shitty mood and blew them off.
Tossing in bed, I couldn't sleep—my brain stuck on replay of Vivian Langley's weird act.
That woman was pure two-faced. The whole seductive vibe? Had to be fake.
But why? I couldn't crack it.
Late that night, my dorm buddies stumbled in wasted.
They reeked of cheap booze as they flopped onto my bed. One clapped me on the shoulder, slurring, "Hey, college boy—heard you nailed the convenience store MILF?"
"What's it to you?"
I scowled, my voice sharp with disgust.
They just grinned, huddling like hyenas.
"C'mon, give us the deets!" the same guy pressed, eyes glazed.
The others chimed in, egging me on.
"Fuck off."
Mentioning Vivian only pissed me off more.
Instead of backing down, they howled with laughter. "Look at him turning red! Bet he lost his V-card to the boss lady, huh?"
"Christ, I'd kill for a piece of her. Every damn time I hit that store, she's got me walking out hard."
"Dream on. Word is she's tight with corporate brass. Cross her, and you're toast."
"Whatever. Once this gig wraps, I'm shooting my shot before I bail!"
Their gross banter made my skin crawl. I sat up, fed up.
Watching them scroll through their phones, an idea hit me. "Can't sleep? Fine. Wanna hear about the store owner's wife?"
"Hell yes!" They perked up like dogs hearing a treat bag.
I smirked. "If I spill, you losers owe me your best stories."
"Deal! Who's up first?"
"Me! College boy goes last. Last summer, back home, I banged this married chick—"
"Lame. My kid's teacher? Now that's a story—"
"Bull. Like any teacher would touch you. My shit's wilder—"
One by one, they spun tales—half lies, half drunken boasts.
Then the last guy spoke, and his story turned my blood to ice.
"Remember those college girls last winter?"
"Vincent Lombardi and I were shitfaced downtown. Saw three of them stranded near National Forest Park—middle of nowhere, cabs MIA. So Vincent plays hero, offers a ride."
"Stupid chicks hopped right in. Vincent keeps 'em chatting, slips 'em spiked water, and bam—lights out."
"You know the drill. Vincent hauled 'em back, passed 'em around the crew. But here's the kicker... On the drive—"
As he rambled, white-hot rage burned through me.
Those girls had futures. And because they trusted some scumbag, they got drugged and violated.
Then these monsters dumped them unconscious in the snow to freeze.
Fucking animals.
I clenched my jaw, staring at the prick still grinning over his story.
Quietly, I hit record on my phone.
He droned on for thirty minutes, only stopping when the others started snoring.
"Your turn, college boy." He jabbed my ribs.
Instead of playing along, I asked flatly, "What happened to those girls?"
"Who gives a shit? Left 'em in the snow. Checked later—gone. Good enough."
"Now. Talk."
Tossing in bed, I couldn't sleep—my brain stuck on replay of Vivian Langley's weird act.
That woman was pure two-faced. The whole seductive vibe? Had to be fake.
But why? I couldn't crack it.
Late that night, my dorm buddies stumbled in wasted.
They reeked of cheap booze as they flopped onto my bed. One clapped me on the shoulder, slurring, "Hey, college boy—heard you nailed the convenience store MILF?"
"What's it to you?"
I scowled, my voice sharp with disgust.
They just grinned, huddling like hyenas.
"C'mon, give us the deets!" the same guy pressed, eyes glazed.
The others chimed in, egging me on.
"Fuck off."
Mentioning Vivian only pissed me off more.
Instead of backing down, they howled with laughter. "Look at him turning red! Bet he lost his V-card to the boss lady, huh?"
"Christ, I'd kill for a piece of her. Every damn time I hit that store, she's got me walking out hard."
"Dream on. Word is she's tight with corporate brass. Cross her, and you're toast."
"Whatever. Once this gig wraps, I'm shooting my shot before I bail!"
Their gross banter made my skin crawl. I sat up, fed up.
Watching them scroll through their phones, an idea hit me. "Can't sleep? Fine. Wanna hear about the store owner's wife?"
"Hell yes!" They perked up like dogs hearing a treat bag.
I smirked. "If I spill, you losers owe me your best stories."
"Deal! Who's up first?"
"Me! College boy goes last. Last summer, back home, I banged this married chick—"
"Lame. My kid's teacher? Now that's a story—"
"Bull. Like any teacher would touch you. My shit's wilder—"
One by one, they spun tales—half lies, half drunken boasts.
Then the last guy spoke, and his story turned my blood to ice.
"Remember those college girls last winter?"
"Vincent Lombardi and I were shitfaced downtown. Saw three of them stranded near National Forest Park—middle of nowhere, cabs MIA. So Vincent plays hero, offers a ride."
"Stupid chicks hopped right in. Vincent keeps 'em chatting, slips 'em spiked water, and bam—lights out."
"You know the drill. Vincent hauled 'em back, passed 'em around the crew. But here's the kicker... On the drive—"
As he rambled, white-hot rage burned through me.
Those girls had futures. And because they trusted some scumbag, they got drugged and violated.
Then these monsters dumped them unconscious in the snow to freeze.
Fucking animals.
I clenched my jaw, staring at the prick still grinning over his story.
Quietly, I hit record on my phone.
He droned on for thirty minutes, only stopping when the others started snoring.
"Your turn, college boy." He jabbed my ribs.
Instead of playing along, I asked flatly, "What happened to those girls?"
"Who gives a shit? Left 'em in the snow. Checked later—gone. Good enough."
"Now. Talk."
End of Her Hidden Secret Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to Her Hidden Secret book page.