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Fuck.I take a swig of the whiskey, but now I can hardly taste it. It might as well be water. I can’t think of anything, but what I know will be shock and amazement and maybe betrayal on her face.
How am I supposed to explain why her own mother stayed away? How can I expect her to believe it? That’s not my problem, though, right? That’s the thing about having a kid, I’ve realized. All of a sudden, their problems become your problems. I want to spare her any additional pain.
I’ve drained nearly a third of the bottle when my phone rings again. I yank the receiver from the cradle, prepared to scream for my assistant to hold my calls for the rest of the day once I’m finished.
“What?” I bark, noting the extension to the history department on the screen.
“We have a problem on the dorm level. Two female students were fighting. One had a knife.”
As if I need to deal with this piddly bullshit. “Deal with them.”
There’s a shuffling noise, then his voice drops to little more than a mumble. “Don’t you think it would be more effective, coming from you?”
He’s right. This is part of my job, like it or not. “I’ll be there in a minute.” I cap the bottle and set it aside before standing and straightening my shirt and tie. There I was, hoping to lay low for the rest of the day while I piece together a plan of action for Aspen. I should know by now there’s no rest for the wicked. I make my way to the office, hoping I don’t smell like a distillery or look as pissed off as I feel. The last thing I expect to find on reaching the office is Anja—and Delilah, standing in the corner with her arms folded.
When I enter the room, her jaw juts out, drawing my attention to her bruised, bloodied lip. My mood swings violently from relief at seeing her again to something much darker. Much more dangerous.
My chest goes painfully tight, and for a long moment, all I can see is that blood. She’s bleeding. Anja made her bleed. If anyone is going to draw blood on her, it will be me. Who the fuck does that girl think she is?
Delilah’s eyes widen, and I realize almost too late that the fury building inside me has begun to show itself. It’s one thing for her to see that, but we aren’t alone. “What happened here?” I ask in a strained voice.
“I happened to find these two in the middle of a brawl.”
“It wasn’t a brawl,” Delilah mumbles.
“You were putting your hands on each other, which is bad enough. Having a weapon is unacceptable.”
“I hit her with a book, not my hands,” Delilah adds, digging herself a deeper hole. “She’s the one who pulled a knife.” Doesn’t she know when to shut up? Meanwhile, I can’t take my eyes off her lip. I want to taste it, run my tongue along its length, and savor the coppery taste of her blood. I’m losing all semblance of myself, aren’t I? All because of her.
All eyes are on me. Right, I’m the headmaster. They expect me to be a leader. If only they saw what was in my head. They would want no such thing from me.
“There’s a simple solution to all this.” Instead of being repentant, Anja doesn’t bother trying to hide how she glares at Delilah. She looks as if she’s disgusted at her mere presence. “She could leave, disappear from Corium. She doesn’t belong here or deserve to use this place as a sanctuary to hide from her demons.”
I need to get her out of my sight before I do something I’ll regret. “That’s not your call, is it?” I turn to her, frowning. I know Delilah. She wouldn’t pick a fight and wouldn’t engage in one unless she was given no choice. I can hardly share that with this haughty, snide little bitch sitting in front of me with her arms folded. “I think it’s best if you leave Corium for a while. You are suspended until further notice.”
Anja’s face falls, her smug grin turning into an opened-mouthed O. “Are you serious?”
“Very. Now get out of here, pack your shit, and head back to Russia.”
Anja stays frozen in shock for a few more seconds before she shoves out of the chair and marches from the room.
Delilah stares at the floor, sullen, scuffing the tile with the toe of her shoe.
I make a big deal of turning toward Delilah, keeping my voice grave. “You stay out of trouble. I don’t want to hear anything about fighting, not ever again.”
I still need to put on a good show. “Thank you for calling me, Mr. Daniels. I’ll escort Delilah out.” What I have to say to her can’t be shared in his presence. For his part, he looks relieved to get the whole thing over with.
After ensuring we’re alone in the hallway, I turn to her and study her face more closely. “You should put ice on that.”
All she does is roll her eyes. “What, are you trying to do a good deed today?”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re anything but dumb, Lucas. Figure it out.” She heaves a sigh before turning away. “And please don’t look at me like you give a shit, okay?”
My mouth goes dry, I want to tell her I do, but I can’t. I can’t physically or mentally make my mouth say the words, but I can react.
Reaching for her, I brush away the stray strands of hair that linger on her face. She’s beautiful, not in a supermodel way but in a natural way. There is no filter with her, making her unique, a breath of fresh air. I cup her cheeks tenderly, and she lifts her gaze, her long lashes flutter, and I can’t help myself. I have to taste her lips.
