Текст книги "Indisputable"

Автор книги: A. M. Wilson

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jacoby

What in the hell did I just do?

I walk straight through the room full of people and out the front door seeking a breath of fresh air.  I just came on to my student.  Not only did I come on to her, I kissed her!  Again!  Although, this time I can’t feign ignorance.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, I really liked kissing her.  So much so, I’d kiss her again if I could.  Fuck.  I’ve messed everything up.

I sat at that bar watching her dance with Trey, song after song, and I couldn’t help myself from watching her body move.  I was mesmerized by the way she seemed to lose herself in the music.  And I was turned on that she seemed so oblivious to how sexy she looked doing it.  I even caught Trey checking her out a few times, and the thought made me so angry I felt as if I needed to claim her as my own.

She’s not mine!

I’m an idiot.  I took this vulnerable girl, who not two days ago was sexually assaulted, and I forced myself on her.  I’m her teacher.  She should be able to trust me.  She’s staying in my house, and I jumped on her like a horny teenager.  Am I really lacking that much in self-control?

And now, now she has nowhere to go because she’s afraid to go home, and she’s not going to want to stay with me anymore.  I took the one place she was feeling safe enough to stay, and I’ve made it awkward and uncomfortable.  So now she has to choose between risking her apartment and that Wyatt douche, or taking her chance with me kissing her again.  I seriously messed up.

I just have to make sure she knows that was a mistake.  If I convince her I had a little too much to drink and it was bad judgment, maybe then she’ll still stay with me.  Christ, that doesn’t make me look like a responsible adult.  I’ll just tell her that I’m attracted to her, but it was wrong of me to kiss her.  Fuck, she’ll never believe that.  I kick a heap of trash on the ground, watching it fly bounce off the sidewalk and roll across the lot.

I’ll just be honest with her.

As I turn around to head back inside, I’m stopped in my tracks.  Tatum is waiting for me just outside the door, watching me carefully as I pace back and forth like a lunatic.  This just keeps getting better and better.

I approach her carefully, but this time I hold my hands up in a gesture of surrender.  This is going to be fucking embarrassing.

“Tatum—I’m really sorry,” I begin, but she cuts me off.

“Why’d you do it?”

“I shouldn’t have.”

“But why did you?”

The closer I get, I can see the redness in her cheeks.  Her eyes are bright, and she’s breathing heavily.  I can’t help it, she’s turning me on.  “I did it because I wanted to.  I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have acted so impulsively.”

“Kiss me again.”

I freeze.  Certainly I misheard her.

“Excuse me?”

She takes a step towards me, and I’m torn between thoughts of rushing her or running away.  What did I get myself into?

“I said, kiss me again,” she states slowly when she’s standing mere inches from me.

My mind is racing, and I’m caught between doing what is right or what I want to do.  What kind of signals did I send her by kissing her and what kind of rejection am I going to send by turning her down?  “Tatum, I—“

She takes one step closer.  “Please.  I’m begging you to kiss me.”

I don’t know if it’s the innocence in her eyes, or the fact she’s begging me, but she crumbles my resolve.  Before I can think through my actions, I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me, crushing my mouth against hers.

She doesn’t hesitate.  Tatum pulls me into her as if she can’t get close enough, gripping the front of my coat and anchoring my body to hers.  When she lets out a small whimper, I feel as if I’m going to detonate right there, my dick getting rock hard in my jeans.  She sucks my bottom lip into her mouth, giving it a small nip with her teeth, and I shudder.  And not from the cold.  I slip my tongue into her mouth, imploring her to let me.  I become bolder, tangling it with hers, tasting her.  She tastes fucking amazing, like sweetness and a hint of vodka.

My hand begins to glide towards her ass when I remember.  I have to stop this.  This is my student.  Good God, she feels incredible, but we can’t do this.  Tatum is dangerous.  I’m like fire, and she’s the gasoline.  Just her proximity is enough for my sparks to catch.  Once that happens, it’s all over.  Together, we’re a raging inferno.

It takes all my will power but I wrench my mouth away from hers, gasping at the loss of contact.  My stomach twists when I watch her bring a shaky hand to her lips, touching them as if to gauge if this was all a dream.  It’s real, sweetheart, I want to tell her.  Fuck, that was definitely real.

“We can’t do this.  You’re my student, and it’s just wrong.  Do you understand?”

“Is it wrong?  It’s not the first time.”

“Yes, of course it’s wrong!” I shout back, feeling myself becoming angry.  Angry at myself.  Angry at her for begging me.  Angry because I want to give her everything she could ever ask for.

“Why?” she whispers, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

“You know why,” I hiss.

“It didn’t feel wrong.”

My mouth opens and closes, but there’s nothing I can say.  I can’t admit how good it felt.  Someone has to be the voice of reason here, and clearly, she’s not up to the task.

She looks away when I don’t answer, embarrassed, but when she turns her face back to me, her resolve is set.  My stomach twists, fearful of what she’s about to say.

“I’ll find somewhere else to stay, Mr. Ryan.  Bring me to get my things, and I’ll be out of your way.”  Her tone is hard, yet void of emotion.  I know she has to be pissed, but she doesn’t sound pissed.  She just sounds…hollow.

“Tatum, no, wait.  I don’t mean that.”

“It’s exactly what you mean.  I don’t need you to tell me you felt something there.  I know you did, because I felt it too.  And if you think it’s wrong then I need to stay somewhere else, because it felt so right to me.  Nothing in my entire life has felt so right.  So please, I’m going to find somewhere else to stay.”  Before I can respond, she marches back inside.

I wait a few minutes before I follow, and I find her at the bar with Trey, tossing down another drink.  Damn him and his bad influence.  I’ll be filling him in on her situation later.  Right now, I need to get her out of here and talk her out of wanting to stay somewhere else.  I have a feeling if she had had somewhere else to go, she would have been there already instead of sticking it out with me.  I’m not sending her back to that apartment of hers so she can be afraid every night.  I’ve seriously messed everything up.

As I approach the bar, Tatum pretends to not notice me, but I see the flush rapidly creep across her neck.  It’s not until I’m perched back on my stool do I see that Trey has his hand resting casually on her thigh.  What the hell is she playing at?  I order myself another drink and sit morosely while they talk, Tatum sharing stories about her work, and Trey flirting with her incessantly in a typical Trey fashion.  I should have known better than to bring her with tonight.  This has been a disaster.

After slamming my drink, I stand up, ready to get out of this place.  Tatum and I need to talk, and we aren’t doing any of that with Trey around.  “Ready to go?” I ask her, trying to hide the frustration in my voice.

“I’m doing just fine right here.  You can go, I’ll call a cab.”

“You don’t need to call a cab.  I can give you a ride,” Trey adds.

“That’s unnecessary because Tatum is coming with me.”  The venom behind the words is unintentional.  I’m edgy and tired, and it comes out all wrong.  I realize this when both their heads whip around in my direction.

“No, I’m not,” she responds.

“What’s gotten into you, man?”

“Nothing,” I scrub my hand over the two day stubble on my cheek.  “It’s just been a long few days, and Tatum and I need to sort out some things,” I lie.

“Relax, man.  I’ll get her home in a bit.  If she’s not ready it’s no big deal.  You won’t sort out much tonight, anyway.  It’s one a.m.”

It’s hard to argue when he sounds so logical, but he doesn’t have a clue what’s going on.  Desperately, I pin my eyes to Tatum imploring her to give up on this stand-off.  We both need sleep and a chance to settle our thoughts.

She sighs dramatically.  I don’t know if it’s because of the liquor or if it’s just to bother me.  But it fucking bothers me.

“It’s okay.  He’s right, we do need to talk.”  She looks back at me for one half second before she turns back to Trey.  “It was nice meeting you and thanks for the offer,” she says, leaning a bit closer to him.

Fuck, she better not.  A sickening warmth spreads rapidly through my chest.

“Oh, it was my pleasure,” Trey purrs.

Damnit to hell.

Tatum leans in to Trey, planting a soft kiss against his dark lips, and the bastard reciprocates.  Jealousy and rage hit me like a swift double tap to the gut, and I physically struggle to remain upright and not lunge at the two of them.  This is what I get for getting involved with Tatum and her childish little games.  Forget it.  She can walk home.  I jam my arms into my coat and stalk off towards the door without a backwards glance.

Once I’m outside, I bring my fist down into the brick side of the building, and the pain ricochets up my arm, straight into my elbow.  Now I have something else to focus on besides the burning ache in my gut.

Just as I put the car into reverse and back out of my space, Tatum comes waltzing out of the front door.  Half of me wants to take off and leave her there, but I can’t do that.  She wants to play games?  Fine, but all she did was solidify in my mind that she’s too immature for me.  And this is wrong.

I slam the car to a stop in front of her, and she just stares at me.  Sighing, I roll down the passenger side window.

“Get in.”

The grin she was sporting inside is wiped off her face as she climbs in the passenger side.  She doesn’t say a word as I peel out onto the dark highway.

It’s hard to ignore glancing at her as we drive silently down the highway, but I keep replaying their kiss in my mind.  Those images are more than enough to extinguish the urge.  It hurts more than it should.  She’s my student, I remind myself for the hundredth time tonight.  I don’t have a right to feel this way about her.

“How mad are you?” She asks when we’re about ten minutes from home.

“Pretty damn mad.”

“Why do you care if you think it’s so wrong for us?”

I cut her a hard glare before returning my eyes to the road.  “It is wrong.”

“Then why do you care?”

“Because I do.”

“But why, Jacoby.  Tell me why.”

“BECAUSE I DO!”

Tatum instantly falls quiet and turns her stare out the window instead.  It takes mere seconds for the guilt to kick in.  But what was I supposed to tell her?  The truth?  The truth isn’t going to get us anywhere, because the reality is that we can’t have that kind of relationship.  And she knows it.  Her little mind games aren’t fair.

When we get inside, Tatum heads into her bedroom while I stop off in the kitchen for a water.  I hear her shuffling around so I walk back to investigate and feel another rush of guilt when I peer inside her door.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting my shit together.”

“You don’t need to leave.”

“Yes I do,” she responds without looking at me.  Her face appears almost stricken as she packs up the few items of clothing into the backpack she brought from her apartment today.  It’s hard to believe that was just this morning.  In less than 24 hours, I made her feel uncomfortable staying here when she has nowhere else to go.  Way to go, moron.

“Tatum, stop.  Put your things down.  I want you to stay.”

“No, you don’t.  I’m a burden to you.”

“You’re not a burden at all.”

“Sure doesn’t feel that way.”

“You’re being unreasonable.  Listen to me.”

“No!”  She finally pauses her packing to look up at me, her hazel eyes holding a new fire I didn’t know they were capable of making.  I don’t let myself miss the way the backpack hangs limply in her hand in defeat.  My heart stutters to a halt.

“You made it clear that anything between us is wrong.  Even though I’m eighteen and have been living like an adult for the past year and am clearly capable of making my own decisions.  It’s uncomfortable for the both of us now, and you know it.  I need to leave.  I can’t stay here and hide out for the rest of my life.  ”

My arms are braced on either side of the doorframe as I watch her resume packing her things.  I wish I knew the right words to say to get her to stay, but she’s made up her mind.  This is all my fault.  “But where will you go?”

“I’ll call Emerson.  And if I can’t stay there, I’ll call my friend from work.”

“And if that doesn’t work out either?” I prod.

She looks up at me again, locking her eyes with mine.  “Then I’ll go back to my apartment.”

“But what about Wyatt?  I don’t think you’ve let enough time pass.”

“What about him?  He doesn’t have a key.  The most he can do is sit around and mess with my car.  I’ll be fine.”

“You didn’t sound so sure earlier.  What changed?”  My fingers grip the doorframe painfully.  I’m desperate for her to stay.  Please, please stay.

“We did, Mr. Ryan.  We changed.”  She sounds so defeated.  Abruptly, she picks up her bag and walks towards me, stopping before where I’m blocking the door.  “Please move.”

Without saying a word, I turn to my side, giving her space to pass through.  And she does.  Tatum walks straight out and into the garage, starts her car, and drives away.

It doesn’t hit me until after she leaves that Tatum probably had too many drinks to drive.  I don’t even have her number to make sure she made it home okay.  Worrying about her safety and kicking myself for letting her leave, I wait not even two minutes before I leave my house to follow her home.

The whole drive over, I search every ditch and every side road for signs of an accident.  My head is filled with ‘what if’s’ as I contemplate all the things wrong with this scenario.

What if she gets pulled over?

What if she falls asleep driving?

What if she hits somebody?

What if Wyatt is waiting for her when she gets home?

The last one makes me force the gas pedal down harder.  Though, no matter how fast I drive, it won’t change what happened today.  I’m nothing but a fuckup.  I can’t even help a teenaged girl who asked for nothing but a place to stay.  I failed Harper, and now I’ve made one hell of a mess out of Tatum’s situation.  It’s best to leave the heroism to someone who’s actually capable.  I’ll drive over and make sure she’s home safe, then I’ll go back to being her calculus teacher.  She won’t even know I stopped by.

When I pull up to her apartment building, I curse.  Shit, I don’t actually know which unit is hers.  Her Honda is easy to spot, so at least I know she’s here, but that doesn’t really tell me if she’s safe.  What if Wyatt forced her into her apartment, and he’s holding her there?  My stomach churns.  I should never have let her leave, and now I don’t even know if she’s alright.

I park next to her car and climb out.  The doors are locked, and nothing seems amiss, although I don’t really know what I should be looking for.  There are several other cars in the lot, but none I remember seeing at the mechanics shop or the school the other day.  I hope that means he’s not here.

But my gut is churning and for some reason I feel uneasy.  Maybe I can just wait around for a little while until I’m more at ease.  If I see him coming out of the building, I’ll beat the shit out of him until he tells me which apartment is hers.  The thought of burying my fists in his cocky face makes me feel slightly better so I flick off my headlights and turn on the radio to keep me awake while I stand watch.

The beer and the late hour are making it hard to stay awake so I blast the air conditioning, hoping the cool air will send life back into my limbs.  I’ve been sitting for over an hour now, and no sign of, well…anybody.  I’ll give it fifteen more minutes before I drive back home.  With the minimal activity around the building, I’m feeling pretty confident Tatum is home safe and alone.

I really screwed up tonight.  Not once during my schooling or student teaching did it cross my mind that I would be in a situation like this.  I’ve endured through the flirtatious smiles and blushing, giggling girls with no effect on me whatsoever, but Tatum isn’t like those girls.  Tatum is strong, driven, and real.  And damn if she doesn’t get right under my skin.  I’m starting to like her there.

That kiss, the one where I pinned her outside the bathroom?  I couldn’t fucking help myself.  And no matter how hard I try to talk sense into my head, it won’t change the fact that I wanted it.  Wanted to kiss her again.  I wanted her.  I still fucking do.  And she retaliated.  Listening to her beg me to kiss her was my undoing.  Those sweet lips dripping with the innocence of her need.  Is it really so wrong?  We met before I was her teacher.  We kissed before she was my student.  Her circumstances make her different than any other high school girl out there.  She isn’t living life like a teenaged girl, she’s living her life like a twenty something adult who’s trying to survive.  Hell, I went through it.  Harper and I went through it together…

The sound of a low rumbling muffler stops that train wreck of emotions before it gets started.  I need to focus.

A burgundy Chevy truck pulls up beneath the streetlamp and parks, but nobody gets out.  Ducking lower into my seat, I watch the unmistakable blue hue of a cell phone illuminating the dark cab and the single occupant within.  I don’t have to see who’s inside to know it’s him.

As I watch, the light travels up towards the window and back down several times.  He must be calling her, and she’s not picking up.  Four, five, six times the light tracks toward his ear and back down.  Despite the air conditioning still blowing on high, my skin prickles and heats with the anger flushing my system.

I reach back and flip the switch off for the dome light and crack the door open.  As carefully as I can, I slip out into the dark night and gently rest the door closed without making a sound.  This guy is jacked up on something, I guarantee it.  Creeping alongside my car, mindful of the gravel crunching beneath my boots, I click open the trunk.  My fingers fumble along before grasping the cool smooth metal of the tire iron.  One glance back tells me he hasn’t moved, and the prick is still calling her.

Images of Tatum, scared and alone in her apartment flash rapidly through my mind.  I need to get over there.

Taking the long way, I creep behind the row of cars and circle the small parking lot.  I’m crouched behind an SUV one car away, when I hear, rather than see, his door fly open.

“Fucking bitch,” I hear him mutter as he steps out of the cab.  He leans back in over the seat to grab something, and I don’t hesitate to rush him.  For all I know he’s grabbing a gun or something to coerce her to let him in.

My approach startles him.  He spins around looking disoriented.  His eyes sweeping from side to side, a telltale glaze in his stare.  The tire iron whooshes through the air as I slap it against his throat.  A chill ripples across my skin as his eyes gloss over with recognition and resentment.

“You need to leave,” I spit out between my gritted teeth.  “I told you to stay the fuck away from her.”

He grins a lopsided smirk, and I fight the urge to drive my fist into his mouth.  “Ain’t scared of you.  Besides, she wants me here.”

“I doubt it.”

“Swear to God.  She called me to come over.”  Amusement dances behind his icy blue eyes.  Something about this guy is off, and I don’t want him within a mile of Tatum.

“You’re lying.”  I press the metal wand tighter against his throat.  His eyes round noticeably as he tries to hide the erupting panic.

It wasn’t enough because he taunts further.  “M’not.  Swear.  Don’t be jealous because she wants what only I can give her.”  I don’t know what this guy is on, but he isn’t slurring like a drunk.  His speech is more lazy and drawn out.  I can feel my control slipping with every word out of his fucking mouth.

“Stay away from her.  She doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

“You’re wrong, buddy.  She wants me, even when she says she doesn’t.”  His eyes roll back slightly, and he lets out a groan.  When his meets my stare again, his mouth lifts in a smirk.  “I’ll never forget how drenched her pussy was when I fingered her in the school.  She really liked that, man.  She didn’t even get that wet when I fucked her the day before.  She sucks cock like a pro and has the sweetest tasting cunt—“

Blood red tinges the corners of my vision, and as the tire iron digs deeply into his throat, my hands shake.

“What’s the matter, buddy?  Can’t breathe?  Should I choke you out like you did to Tatum?  Cut off your air until your face turns fucking purple, and the light leaves your eyes?”  My hands press harder.  “What’s that?  I can’t hear you.  You’re never going to see her again?  Never going to bother her or call her?  Don’t even fucking look at her if she drives by you.  Say yes, you son-of-a-bitch, or I’ll choke you off right here.”  I twist my wrist and a vein rolls in my forearm.  A sick sense of satisfaction rises in my chest as his hands grapple with the metal against his throat.

With eyes wide on mine, he gives his head a miniscule nod.  I shove the bar one last time before releasing him, where he collapses in a choking, coughing heap at my boots.

I raise the bar above my head and kick him over with my foot.  “Which apartment is hers?”

He just shakes his head and keeps coughing, his body rolled into a tight ball on the cold, black pavement.

I drive my boot into his chest.  “Which apartment?”

He coughs again before wheezing, “306…306.”

“If I ever see you here again, you’re dead.  Get the fuck out of here.”

He scrambles into his truck and throws it into drive before spinning away from me.  I wait until his taillights disappear around a bend in the road before barreling up the stairs to the complex.  She’s not staying here after that.  I need to reassure myself that she’s okay, and then she’s coming home with me.