AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Criminology goes by fast, even just discussing the syllabus, Dr. Price is riveting. I’m able to forget about my interaction with Nox for most of the class. “That’s all for today. We’ll start actually learning next time.” He smiles at us.
I start to pack my bag. “Miss. Russo, can you stay behind for a moment?”
I glance up to see a lot of the girls glaring at me before I finally looked to Dr. Price. “Yes, sir.”
As the students file out, I make my way to his desk. He sits back in his chair, his eyes resting on mine. I’ve seen tons of photos of him online, but they didn’t prepare me for the full weight of his attention. Those pale blue eyes of his seem to look right through me, and I’m afraid of what he might see.
His eyes swing to the last student. “Close the door, please,” he tells the guy, who does so without complaint.
He focuses on me once more and I suddenly want to confess to every crime I’ve ever committed, which would take a very long time. He pats the edge of the desk on his side. “Come sit.” His voice is firm and demanding.
“Over there?” I say carefully, and his eyes narrow on me.
I round the desk and plop my ass down in record time. I could be mistaken, but I’m pretty sure he smirks. Either way, it’s gone before I can be sure. Dr. Price rests his elbow on the arm of his chair and holds his chin in his palm, eyes still pasted to my face. “Look, Nox can be an idiot sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, he’s very smart, but sometimes he’s a social idiot. He’s just worried because the boys all had difficult childhoods, and with trauma like they experienced, there are trauma responses. Do you understand what that means?”
I nod my head. “A trauma response is a person’s reaction to trauma. The main four are fight, flight, freeze, and fawn.”
He nods his head. “Very good.” A tingle runs down my spine at his praise. “Let’s just say that Zane is a fighter. I don’t think he would hurt you, but if he seems to be having a negative reaction to something, tread carefully.” He reaches into a drawer on the other side of my legs before holding out a small piece of paper to me. “If anything happens, call me. It’s got my personal number on the back.”
His personal number. Dr. Cain Price just gave me his personal number. My head starts to feel fuzzy. “Viv?” I hear distantly, but my mind is too sluggish to respond.
The next thing I know I’m looking up at Zane. I take a deep breath of turpentine oil when he leans down to rub his thumb along my cheek. “Are you okay?”
I nod my head, relaxing into the comfortable chair I’m sitting on. Zane leans down and presses his lips softly to mine. The chair gasps and hardens under me. Zane pulls back and looks over my shoulder. I look up at Zane with wide eyes. “Please tell me I’m sitting on a chair.”
His deep blue eyes focus on me, and he smiles. “You’re sitting on a chair.” He leans forward and whispers conspiratorially, “Cain just happens to be sitting in the chair as well.”
I jump out of Cain’s lap like it’s burned me and bump my head against Zane’s in the process. “Ow.” I hold my hands over my forehead.
Hands grip my shoulders. “Are you okay?” Zane pries my hands away from my forehead.
I look up at him and hiss, “I’m fine. I’m so sorry. I made you bleed.” I frown at the small cut on his lip.
Zane shakes his head. “I’m fine. Are you’re okay? Cain said you passed out.”
God, this is so embarrassing. I’m worse than a preteen girl passing out when they meet their idol. Only I’m an adult and I literally just did that. I press my forehead against Zane’s chest. His arms wrap around me as my shoulders begin to shake.
“Don’t cry,” Zane murmurs worriedly.
I pull away, laughing. “I’m not. This is just another example of why my life is a joke,” I explain, pulling away. I grab my book bag, avoiding looking at either of them. “I’m going to go lie down,” I tell Zane before hurrying out of the room.
I just made a horrible impression with the teacher I would have for the next four years. A man I’ve looked up to since he took down the Moretti family as just a rookie. I’ve had an obsession with him since then. Everyone knows about it. Dad made numerous jokes about his mafia princess being in love with a poliziotto1.
The Moretti family wasn’t just a competing family. We were at war with them. I was only seven when they sent the first assassin to kill me. A lot of my training with Enzo was done on men sent to take my life. I didn’t kill them all, of course, but I did a lot of anatomy training on their bodies. Enzo said their useless existence should be used for something productive.
By the time they were arrested, there had been twenty-three attempts at my life. Cain Price took their entire family down and saved me when I was nine years old. I owe him my life. I followed his career after that. I keep newspaper clippings and have an embarrassing as fuck shrine of him in my closet.
Tears start flowing from my eyes as I think about how badly I just screwed up my chance to know the man I owe everything to. He probably thinks I’m an idiot now. I certainly feel like one. I hear shouting from behind me, then feel guilty for starting a fight between them. Pulling out my phone, I send a quick textto Zane.
Viv
I just feel really embarrassed. I look up to Dr. Price a lot and I made a complete fool out of myself by literally passing out on him. I just need some time to calm myself down. Don’t be mad at him.
I press send, then turn my phone off, heading straight home. Sandy isn’t back yet, so I take a shower to wash the shame and scent of his amber cologne off me. Not because I don’t like the smell, but because I like it a bit too much. I put on my favorite flannel pajamas. They were a joke gift from Enzo since they’re covered in little tiaras. He thought it was funny, and I agree, but they’re also the softest pajamas I own. The T-shirt buttons up with little gold sparkly buttons and the shorts fall to mid-thigh.
When the door opens, I’m hiding under the covers with my back pressed against the wall, hoping Sandy will just assume I’m sick and not say anything. Tears are falling down my cheeks to the pillow under my head. I feel so fucking stupid. I wanted him to think I’m a good student. All I really wanted was to meet him and maybe thank him before I leave, once I get my degree.
The mattress next to me compresses as someone sits. “I don’t want to talk about it, Sandy,” I say with a hitch in my voice from my silent tears.
