Page 23 of Wicked Ends
“What’s so funny?” I snapped.
“Just the fact that you think I’m some blushing, innocent, naive teen who you need to protect.” His smile faded, and he cocked his head, his dark eyes drilling into mine. “You have no idea the things I’ve seen or done. The life I’ve lived isn’t for the weakhearted. You don’t need to worry about me, Professor. Worry about yourself.”
Tension gathered in my gut at those words. I nodded. “You’re right. I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. The other night was a mistake, and one I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life.”
Annoyance gathered on Marcus’ brow as I spoke.
“I took advantage of you?—”
He scoffed darkly. “Give me a fucking break. You were the one drinking, not me.”
“Like I said, mistakes were made,” I cut in and took another step back from him. “If you want to report me to the dean, I understand. If you want me to resign, say the word.”
He watched me. I smoothed my hair back and straightened up.
“Now, I need to prepare for my next class, and you have places to be, I’m sure.”
A dark amusement twisted Marcus’ lips. “So, I’m dismissed, Professor Moore, is that it? You’re done with me for the second time in as many days?”
I nodded jerkily. “If you aren’t going to take my transgression further, then I suggest we don’t interact more than we absolutely have to. It’ll be uncomfortable and awkward?—”
“We wouldn’t want that,” he said.
There was a darkness to his tone that didn’t bode well, but I had very few choices left to me at this point.
We stared at each other for a long, blistering moment, and then Marcus chuckled and started toward the door. He swung his heavy bag with a hockey stick over one shoulder.
Relief hit me like a ton of bricks. He was going. He was listening to me. Sure, maybe he was going to the dean to complain, but I didn’t think he was.
He stopped at the door before opening it.
“And if I want to make a fuss, if I feeltaken advantageof… what are you going to do about it?” he called down to me.
I swallowed a knot in my throat and forced my head high. I made the mistake; I’d take responsibility.
“Resign, transfer, leave town—whatever makes you feel better. Whatever you want.” I met his gaze unwaveringly.
His dark eyes crinkled, and a shadow of a grin touched his lips. He nodded.
“Good to know, Professor. I’m going to hold you to that. Sit tight, and I’ll let you know what I want to do with you.”
“You mean what you want me to do?”
He smirked. “Sure.”
Then he left, leaving that axe hanging over my head.
Arianna
I gotthrough the rest of the morning somehow, pushing worries about Marcus and the other night out of my head for the most part. I was good at compartmentalizing. I’d had tons of practice.
A knock at my classroom door later in the day had me scrambling to my feet. Had Marcus come back to talk to me? Had he reported me? Guilt and fear made me tense and brittle. For weeks I’d had nightmares that I’d open the door of whatever motel I was staying in, and the police would be outside, ready to grab me. Now, I had a shiny new fear. Being frog-marched off campus by security for engaging in inappropriate relations with a student. Great.
“Hellooo!” Kenna called, sending relief flooding through me.
I turned too quickly toward the door and knocked the half-filled mug of cold coffee I’d been nursing all morning off the desk. It shattered in pieces as the door opened.
“Damn, we’re not interrupting, are we?” a smooth voice called to me.
