Page 10 of Someone to Have
She leads me down a hall with offices on either side, but I don’t look in any of them. I’m hoping this is the only time I’ll be in the administrative wing of the high school, and I don’t plan on committing any of it to memory.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” Rhett says as soon as I walk into the room. Color stains his cheeks, and his eyes flash with defiance.
“Buddy, I don’t have a clue what’s going on, so before pleading your case, how about you back up and start from the beginning.”
“The incident occurred in the library,” Assistant Principal Kenkel begins.
“Was it Colonel Mustard with a candlestick?” I ask, then immediately want to smack myself upside the head because there’s nothing funny about this situation. The assistant principal probably thinks I have no business looking after a teenage boy, and she ain’t wrong.
Before she can respond, there’s a sound behind me—laughter, clear and sparkling like one of the bubbling streams in the mountains that border this town. Did I just think the word tinkling? I turn and…what the actual fuck is happening right now?
“Taylor, this is serious,” another voice says, but I barely register the insignificant speck of a man who enters the room behind Taylor Maxwell.
Taylor Maxwell—Tink of the tinkling laugh—who looks as shocked to see me as I am her. I’m guessing she wouldn’t have appreciated myCluejoke if she knew I was the one making it.
“What are you doing here?” The question comes out harsher than I mean it to.
“I work here.” She looks as surprised as I feel.
My brain’s discombobulated, like I’m the one who took a candlestick to the head. Which maybe explains why it takes me a second to register the ice pack she’s holding in one hand, and the fact that there’s a spot of dried blood at the outside corner of her eye. In fact, her whole cheek is pink.
I whirl back toward my nephew and take a step forward. So that I don’t curl them into fists, I place my palms flat on the table. Rhett scooches back in his chair as I lean forward.
“Did you hit a woman?” I demand.
His mouth forms an “O” but he shakes his head.
“No,” Taylor says from behind me, and I feel her hand on my arm.
The touch has all the weight of a damn butterfly, but the shock and pleasure that reverberates through my body feels like gulping down a cold glass of water after years in the desert.
“Yes,” the dude says, sounding irritated. “He hit her with a book.”
“It was an accident,” Taylor and Rhett say at the same time, and Rhett flicks a grateful glance her way.
“It was assault. She could press charges,” the guy insists.
Suzanne Kenkel shakes her head. “Let’s have a seat and discuss this calmly.”
Taylor removes her hand from my arm, and I push my palms into the table so hard, I’m surprised the wood doesn’t splinter. I want to feel that butterfly touch again almost as much as I want my next breath.
I close my eyes and count to five in my mind, then open them again. Rhett is still staring at me, and he’s somehow made himself smaller in the black office chair. He doesn’t look like a moody, snarky-ass teenager anymore. He looks like a boy who’s trying to gauge whether the adult looming over him is going to tear into him with words or backhand him across the face.
Shit.
I straighten and cross my arms over my chest. I never want the kid to think I’d hurt him, no matter how mad he makes me. Yeah, I got in my share of fights on the ice, but I would never touch a child—or anyone—in anger.
I’m guessing the same can’t be said for at least one of my sister’s trail of walking red-flag boyfriends.
“Do you two know each other?” The administrator addresses the question to Taylor.
“Eric and my brother went to college together,” Taylor says, her voice not giving anything away—like the fact that she thinks I’m a manwhore and doesn’t give a damn whether or not I have a heart.
I walk around the table and lower myself into the chair next to Rhett.
“I need you to explain to me what happened.” I try to sound calm and reasonable despite the maelstrom of emotions rioting through me. Calm and reasonable don’t come naturally to me.
“I’lltell you what happened.” This from the guy who couldn’t be less helpful if he tried.
