Page 22 of Taming His Teacher

The lie comes to my lips.Yes. She’s mine. She belongs to me.But I could get in way too much trouble. Besides, Erin’s real husband will be here soon. “No. She’s my teacher.”

I choke on the last word. Such a hollow, inane word for what she is to me. At some point, I must have given the nurse my name, because she’s steering me toward the waiting room. “Mr. Shepherd, you can wait out here.”

After half-an-hour of staring dead-eyed, useless at the worn linoleum floor, I can’t. I run out to the car, wishing I could keep running, all the way back to the Hill and beyond, run away from all of this. Instead I grab the cell Erin had been clutching, dropped on the floor of her car in one of her fits of agony. Will’s number must be in here. They can call him. I don’t know anyone else to call for her. Does she have family nearby? I don’t know. Someone at school might.

Fuck. School. I am going to be in so much trouble. I’ve broken about ten thousand rules. Not supposed to leave campus without letting someone know. Not supposed to drive on campus. I’m sure there must be something about inappropriate touching between teachers and students, and cradling Erin against me would definitely count as inappropriate. Or would if anyone had any idea how right it felt.

But fuck it. If they want to kick me out for this, so be it. I won’t apologize. I start the car and search for an empty spot, getting lucky a few rows from the entrance to the ER. I don’t want her car to get towed or ticketed on top of all of this. The bloodstain on the seat makes me cringe as I pull a too-tight turn into the space, almost clipping a BMW. I turn on a burst of speed to get back into the ER. Once inside, I find a nurse who looks familiar, give her the phone and tell her Will’s name. I plaster my hands against the window to Erin’s room. They’ve gotten her into a hospital gown and she’s stopped screaming.

She’s pale under the fluorescents and there’s a sheen of sweat on her forehead I want to wipe away. She looks dazed as she talks to a nurse. Maybe they’ve given her a sedative? Looking up from her conversation, she sees me with my forehead pressed against the glass and the corner of her mouth twitches. She’s glad I’m here. She says something to the nurse, who looks over her shoulder at me before turning back to Erin and shaking her head.

Tears well in Erin’s eyes and her small chin wrinkles. I can read the word on her lips: “Please.”

The nurse’s rounded shoulders rise and fall in a sigh, but she pokes her head out the door.

“Mr. Shepherd? Miss Brewster would like to speak with you.”

I shove my hands in my pockets and try not to flatten the nurse on my way in.

Erin’s lids flutter as I approach and dump myself into a chair. I keep my hands in my pockets so I won’t touch her.

“You should go back to school, Mr. Shepherd.”

“I—”

“Please don’t argue with me. I’m tired and I can’t stand up to your testosterone-fueled whatever-this-is.”

The weak wave of her wrist with the IV taped to the inside of her forearm slays me. Is she angry at me? All this stuff surges around in my head and perfectly rational thoughts explode like popcorn kernels into the crazy urges I always have about Erin. I can’t decide whether I want to take her into my lap and hold her until she falls asleep, fuck her until she’s begging me to stop, or take her over my knee and spank her until she cries. Any one of those things would be better than sitting here. Doing nothing.

Now she’s mad at me and she wants me to leave? But a puff of her cheek is telling me she’s trying to smile. She’s not angry. At least notreallyangry.

“I’ll wait with you until Mr. Chase gets here.”

She shakes her head. “Could you have someone call school? Will’s on the road, he won’t answer his phone for a few hours yet. Mrs. Wilson or Mrs. Latham should be around.”

There’s a tightness in my chest like I’ve run too hard for too long.They don’t care about you the way I do. Please let me stay. I’ll take care of you, haven’t I proven that?But she’s exhausted and she’s trying to protect me. So I shove the words back down my throat and lean my head out the door, waving to the nurse, and give her instructions.

When I turn back to Erin, her eyes are closed. Dark circles are heavy under her lashes, and her chest is rising and falling under the thin cotton of the johnny. She’s asleep. I seize the opportunity to run a hand across her forehead, sopping away the sweat beaded at her hairline and over her eyebrows. She stirs and I wait for her to open her eyes, yell at me, call me Mr. Shepherd again, but she doesn’t wake up. Instead, she leans her head toward my hand in her hair and she sighs.

A punch lands in my gut. She likes this. Likes my hand in her hair.Twist the screws a little harder, would you universe? You fucking suck. But for a few minutes at least, I can offer her comfort. I let my fingers wander through the strands lank with sweat. I don’t care. This is the prettiest she’s ever looked to me, because I know for certain in that instant she wants to be with me, too.

When the door opens half an hour later, I yank my hand away, not wanting to be caught, not wanting to have to answer any more awkward questions than I’ll already have to. I’m expecting Mrs. Latham or Mrs. Wilson, but it’s Will on the threshold.

“Mr. Shepherd, Headmaster Wilson is waiting outside. He’ll take you back to school.”

I stand, waiting for some other acknowledgement from him. Possibly a thank-you or at least aHow is she doing? But there’s none of that.You’re a cold fuck, Will Chase.

The hospital room is too small not to brush his shoulder on my way out. It takes every ounce of willpower to not slam him up against a wall and knock his shit-eating teeth into the back of his throat.Your wife is in the hospital. She lost your baby. She was in so much pain she couldn’t not scream no matter how hard she tried, and you look like someone ate your leftovers.But instead I take a deep breath and step into the hall, remembering before I close the door I have Erin’s keys in my pocket.

“Mr. Chase.”

I may as well be a cockroach for how he looks at me, but he holds out a hand for the key ring dangling from my fingers and pockets it. I turn to go and before the door’s all the way shut, I hear him waking her.

“Erin, what the hell happened?”

I ball my fists in my pockets to keep from beating the crap out of this thoughtless fuckwad and head down the hall to look for Headmaster Wilson. I find his bald dome easily; it glints under the fluorescents a head above the slumped bodies nearby. When I stand in front of him, his tangle of white eyebrows goes up.

“You’ve had an interesting afternoon, Mr. Shepherd.”