Page 54 of Mastered By Desire

Now Hector is invested. He’s the kind of student who’s always trying to glean details about my personal life. I usually don’t give away much. He just hit the jackpot.

Wentz says, “Unfortunately for Mr. Rabanoir, the distinction is no longer important. I’m afraid he’s dead, Miss Shreve.”

“D-dead?”

“His body was found in the nature preserve.”

Wentz’s words don’t make sense. Mick isn’t dead. I just saw him.

“Do you own a gun, Miss Shreve?” Wentz asks.

“No—wait, Mick wasshot?”

He nods, raises his eyebrows, waits.

“No, I don’t own a gun. And no, I didn’t kill Mick. I was scared of him, but I was working with Officer Coulenta. I thought we had things under control.”

“Did you see Michael Rabanoir after last Friday night, when you reported the interaction to my colleague?”

“No.”

He stares extra hard, like he’s trying to catch me in a lie. For fuck’s sake, I’m not a murderer and I’m not going to lie to the police. Do I need a lawyer? I might have to get one. Holy crap, I can’t afford a lawyer.

I wait him out. Looking away might make it seem like I’m lying. Staring at him might make it seem like I’m trying too hard to look innocent. Well, Iaminnocent. I compromise by looking at the streetlight past his left ear.

Wentz finally nods. “Very well, Miss Shreve. If anything comes to mind, here’s my card. Please call.”

I take the paper he hands me and tuck it into my pocket, dazed.

As soon as the officers step away, Hector’s at my side. “Are you okay, Leah?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I give him what I hope looks like a real smile. “It’s surprising news, that’s all. So, I’ll see you next week?”

He tilts his head, still looking worried.

“I’m all right,” I say. “Truly. You don’t need to worry about me, just worry about how you’re going to celebrate your fantastic English grade, okay?”

With a grin, he says, “Okay. I’ll see you next week.”

He waits until I get into my car before he gets into his. Thoughtful kid.

Every now and then I’m surprised by the tenderness I feel for my students. I want all of them to succeed, of course. But some of them seem to want that success more, or maybe they have a fun way of looking at the world. Charisma? Drive? I don’t know what it is. I’ve been doing this for two years, so I don’t have any former students who are college graduates yet, but a couple have reached out to let me know how they’re doing. I hope Hector is one of those.

Mick, though. I navigate through rush hour traffic toward Old Thirty-Three and Dmitri’s house, my mind whirling. I can’t believe it. Not only dead, but shot.

Murdered.

What happened? Was he mugged?

Detective Wentz wanted to know ifIown a gun.

Mick was an asshole at the end of our relationship. Or for most of it. But he didn’t deserve to be shot and have his body left in a nature preserve. Nobody deserves that. Nobody.

15

Dmitri

AITA for fucking my little sister’s best friend and ghosting her afterward, even though she’s staying in my house because she has nowhere else to live?

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