Chapter 80 Fear of the Unknown
NANCY’S POV
After I parted ways with Diana, on a really bad note by the way, I headed for an old oak tree in the university compound that was a form of relaxation spot for students.
The roots branched out, forming a kind of bench, and luckily for me, there was no one in sight when I got there.
Gently, I dropped my bag onto one of its roots that stuck out, then sat down myself, letting my head drop into my lap.
“Don’t cry, Nancy.”
“Not here, not now,” I whispered to myself, trying to give myself the comfort that I desperately needed.
The conversation I had just had with Diana had drained me in a way I never imagined it possibly could, and now, I felt number of life.
Despite having that to consider and think about, my mind also couldn't let go of one thought.
“I’ll take care of it.” That was what Mr Landon had said to me, and then, I hadn’t questioned it.
Mostly because a part of me had felt relieved to have him handle it on my behalf, but now, I was forced to face what that could possibly mean.
What did “take care of it” actually mean?
My breathing turned shallow the more I thought about it, and my stomach kept sinking as if a hole was being dug inside of it for my organs to fall through.
“Mr Landon…Jaxon…He didn’t really do that, right?” I questioned myself, but deep down, I kind of already knew the answer.
However, I doubted it, because I couldn't handle it being the truth.
But then, a memory hit me like a truck.
Hudson.
How could I have forgotten about it?
Hudson’s case had been just as sudden, too, and his arrest was quick, clean, and seemed almost effortless.
If Mr Landon had been able to achieve that without raising the slightest suspicion, then wouldn’t this have been even easier…
No.
“No, no, no.”
I shook my head vehemently, denying the conjectures my mind was making.
My stomach lurched, and desperately, I hoped it wasn’t true.
For the first time in forever, since I met him, I felt something other than attraction for him.
I felt fear.
Fear of the unknown and fear of a man I didn't know.
Unlike what I thought, I was realizing now that I truly didn’t know him, and I doubted Diana knew her Dad either.
The realization made my heart thump, and I began to think…
What if I wasn’t special?
What if I weren’t different?
What if he didn’t actually care about me?
Would I turn into another situation he could ‘take care of’ if I ever became a problem?
My breath caught in my throat.
“No,” I said again, shaking my head violently.
However, the doubt was already there, growing steadily as the moment passed, and no matter how I tried, I couldn’t push it away.
This felt too real to be just a coincidence.
I got home late that night, really late, and had spent the rest of the day wandering around town aimlessly, trying to clear my head.
To prevent her from worrying, even though I wasn’t sure she would, I sent a text to Diana.
It read, “I’ll be home late tonight, please relay that to your Dad.”
There was no point telling her not to wait up for me; I knew she wouldn’t.
By the time I got home, the house had already fallen quiet.
Actually, it had been quiet for days now.
When I returned, I didn't bother knocking when I made my way past Diana’s room.
Instead, I headed straight to Mr Landon’s room, only to find that he wasn't around.
My mind trailed back to when I walked in, and I recollected that I hadn’t seen his car in the driveway either, which meant…
He wasn’t home.
My pulse quickened, and a dangerous thought crept in.
This was my chance.
I hesitated in the hallway for a while, deliberating the step I was about to take, but then, after a while, I hardened my resolve.
Slowly, and carefully, I began to make my way over.
If I found nothing, then fine.
But if I did find something…
I had no idea what I would do.
“Just check,” I muttered softly to myself, still muttering as I walked over to his study.
“It’ll just be a quick look. You might not even find anything serious.” I said, bolstering my courage.
By the time I reached his door, my heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest.
I stood there for a long moment, frozen, just staring at the door handle.
And then, with a deep inhale, I grabbed it and pushed the door open.
His study was just as quiet as the rest of the house and dark.
I found the light switch by the wall the instant I walked in and flipped it on.
The room brightened in an instant.
It smelled like him and was exactly as I envisioned it would be. Clean, masculine, and well-ordered with modernized furniture.
My eyes flicked around quickly. Everything was normal, and nothing seemed out of place.
For a brief second, relief flickered in my chest.
I stepped further into the room, tracing every surface and staring intently at everything. Nothing seemed suspicious.
Even when I opened his drawer, all I found was pens, papers, and documents, all related to his profession as a lecturer.
Besides that, I found some old, worn-out books as well as research files.
“See, you were just overreacting,” I exhaled, patting my chest in relief.
But then, I froze again.
Something about this felt staged.
Everything was just too organized.
Like I was seeing exactly what he wanted me to.
“No, that can’t be,” I mumbled into the silence, but I was already moving.
I reached it, then began to feel around until I touched something.
A lower compartment, barely noticeable.
My breath hitched, and slowly I began to feel around again, until I pressed something.
There was a click sound, and then the compartment slid open.
Stunned, I reached into it with trembling fingers.