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There’s no chance in hell that’s gonna happen.
“I don’t know about this, honey. Don’t you think it’s too soon? What if something happens to you, or you hurt yourself and open your stitches?”
“I’m eighteen, mom. I’m not a kid anymore. It’s my decision, and I’m going.”
Her face flushes with guilt that I’ve missed my eighteenth birthday. It was only two days after everything happened, and I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. Truth be told, I was never big on birthdays anyway.
“I’m not so sure.”
I don’t take no for an answer.
“Mom. I’m going.”
She eyes me quizzically. “Tell you what. Why don’t I speak with Saint first and…”
I gulp down the nerves at hearing his name. “I don’t need to ask Saint for permission,” I interject.
“No, I know that, but..”
“Will you stop worrying! It’s just school, mom. I’ll be fine,” I cut in, irritated that she felt the need to run my life past him.
“Alright,” she smiles, knowing I won’t back down. “But I will mention it to him anyway. If you’re going back to school, maybe he should too.”
“So he can keep tabs on me, you mean?” I say lightly. I don’t want to start a row with her and wake up Saint.
Her hand gently pats my arm. “I’ll go see if he’s awake. Be right back.”
I rub my forehead, cursing. Not waiting until she returned, I grabbed my book bag and keys and headed for the door, slamming it behind me.
He’s going to be awake now regardless.
Chapter Seventeen
I’vealwaysbeenafast learner of math. Many people don’t like it much, especially my classmates. But for me, it’s an exciting and challenging subject. When I was younger, my dad told all his friends that I was a little math genius because I would spend hours unraveling complex equations without peeking at the answers in the back of the worksheet. The more my dad told me how proud I made him, the more I was keen to learn.
My shoulders slump as I gaze out the window, watching the day tick away, just listening to the rain falling hard against the glass.
Usually, I’d be fully engaged in Mrs. Cross’s teaching subjects like trigonometry formulas and using the one-hand trick to memorize the trigonometry table, but I struggle to focus. My heart just isn’t in it. Which pisses me off because this morning, I was determined to make the most of my senior year. Craving a reprieve from the darkness that filled my every waking thought, even if it was temporary.
Lifting my pen, I turn my body to jot down the formula to revise it later tonight when a flash of something moving has my eyes inadvertently snapping to the door.
My heart sinks when Saint’s dark, brooding eyes find mine.
I was so lost in my own thoughts I didn’t even hear him come in.
Our eyes locked, and the world around us seemed to fade away for a fleeting moment.
Memories of him fucking me over this desk and whispering flirty promises of all the dirty things he would do to me flood my mind like it was yesterday.
Mrs. Cross clears her throat, and I stop myself from dwelling on the memories of us and what we had. Not anymore. Whatever it was, is over. I can’t hold on to someone who was never mine in the first place.
Suppressing annoyance, I shifted my gaze to my notebook and continue writing, pretending he isn’t there.
“Outside. Now!” Saint demands, the tension in the room escalating.
Pushing the workbook away, I slump back in the seat, arms crossing in defiance.
I should have known he’d do this.
