Page 29 of Tempest

Tempest

She can’t know.

She can’t fucking know.

My blood pops under my skin, bursting bubbles of lava that singe through my nerves. Of all the buildings on campus, I didn’t expect Ardyn Kaine to occupy mine.

Rossi scrapes his chalk across the blackboard, old-school among all the laptops facing his back—all except for Ardyn, that is, dutifully jotting notes with pen and paper, appearing unbothered and attentive.

She can’t know.

I go through the appropriate motions as Rossi’s teaching assistant, handing out papers and glares on cue, until the hour and forty minutes are finished and Rossi dismisses the class.

It felt like one hundred and forty years.

Keeping Ardyn in my periphery, I pack up my own shit, swinging my leather crossbody over one shoulder. She’s not hard to keep a steady gaze on. Despite her stint with plastic trays with peas and carrots, she’s still a fucking bombshell with lips I could feast on and an ass my grip could leave divots in and a nice, red mark of my handprint behind.

The image makes me adjust my satchel until it's at the front of my pants. Whatever it is with this girl—my paranoia, her delicious curves, her godforsaken presence on my campus—I need to shake it off. Now.

“Callahan. Stay behind a minute, would you?”

Rossi asks the question with ease, busying himself with stacking spare hand-outs. His attention spears through his thick hair as it falls across his forehead—snake eyes through the grass. And they’re trained on Ardyn.

To her credit, she doesn’t give either of us a second look when she leaves the room, her long hair sweeping against the small of her back.

As soon as we’re left alone, Rossi whirls on me. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

“I was asking myself the same thing.”

“I thought you’d taken care of it.” He doesn’t bother to disguise the deadly warning in his tone.

“I did.”

“You sure you offed the right girl?”

I give a curt nod. “You stood beside me while I did it.”

Rossi breaks our stare off, turning instead to the closed door as if Ardyn were still standing under it. “Dammit, I couldn’t tell then, and I sure as fuck can’t differentiate them now. I’m relying on your judgment.”

“They’re my sister’s best friends,” I respond calmly. “I have no doubt who nosed in on your business that night, and she’s not your problem anymore.”

“Will this one be?”

I lift my chin in thought. Outwardly, it might seem I’m debating between the colors of black and blue. Inwardly, I’m a raging storm. If Ardyn kept away, this wouldn’t have become an issue. If my sister knew how to keep her mouth shut, I wouldn’t be in this position. If, if, if.

None of it matters anymore because here I am, having to clean up their fucking mess. Again.

“I’m trusting that you to ensure that girl doesn’t turn into a problem,” Rossi says. “We chose this location for a specific reason—privacy. If the boss gets one tug from a loose end, we’re the ones who’ll pay.”

“I understand.” My voice sounds level. Confident, even though I’d love to lob an accusation right back at him. If you weren’t so trigger-happy and butthurt over a personal grievance, none of us would be in this position in the first place.

I don’t dare. Rossi, with all his slicked-back, debonair attitude that makes undergrads wet their panties, and a voice that has them begging for him to read them sonnets, he is not a man to be messed with on his good days. He turns into an utter demon on his bad ones.

“We allowed your sister on campus at your insistence,” Rossi continues. I allow a tic of annoyance in my cheek to come through.

Rossi sees it. Instead of a dark scowl in response, he laughs softly, clapping me on the shoulder. “Relax, youngblood. Clover Callahan is under your protection, and a lucky girl she is because the things I’d like to do to her—”

I whirl on a snarl, hooking his throat and slamming him into the bookshelf.

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