Page 28 of Wicked Ends
I saw an opening at the coffee machine and made a beeline for it.
Wade was still waiting for me when I made my way back to my jacket and bag, but there was nothing I wanted less than small talk. I needed to calm down and face the day, since I didn’t seem to be fired yet.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to run to class and get settled.”
Wade raised an eyebrow. “Ah yes, the industriousness of the recently hired. Godspeed!”
I nodded and made for the door. Wade’s archaic and flowery way of speaking felt like an affectation. It was a little much all at once. I wasn’t in the mood for it today, that was for sure.
I reached my classroom, relieved to see the hallways were still empty. Thank God. I opened the door and went inside, switching the lights on with my elbow and carefully shutting the door with one foot, all while holding my bag and a steaming-hot coffee cup.
“Careful, beautiful. You’ll give yourself a nasty burn like that.”
I jumped, and the coffee sloshed out of the mug and over my hand.
“Shit, are you ok?” he asked across the room.
“I’m fine,” I swore softly and set the dripping mug down, shaking my scalded hand, and stared down the steps that led to the lectern.
Marcus sat at my desk, to the side of the teaching platform. Leaning back in my chair, feet up on the desk, he was the picture of ease.
Worry skittered through me.
Marcus jerked his head toward the door. “That door lock?”
“What? I don’t know… why?” I stepped to the side and glanced at the door skittishly.
“Because you’re going to want to lock it for this conversation.”
“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Marcus chuckled. “Believe me, you wouldn’t want anyone walking in on us. I’m concerned about your reputation, Teach.”
“Mr. Bailey.” I tried my best to sound stern.
“You should know… I fucking love it when you call me Mr. Bailey.” He smirked. “Do it again.”
I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to lock the door, but Marcus held all the goddamn cards, and we both knew it. I reached behind me and locked the door. The sound of the metal turning was like a gunshot.
Marcus waved at me, beckoning me forward.
I descended the stairs, shaking again from tension… or maybe it was my tenth coffee hitting.
“Well, what is this all about?” I asked stiffly once I stood in front of him.
“Exactly what you asked me for yesterday… my decision on what I’m going to do with you.” He stood slowly and stretched, his black T-shirt riding up his rock-hard, sculpted abs.
I looked away, crossing my arms and trying my best to seem unmoved and disinterested.
“You mean your decision on what you want me to do,” I said.
He tutted. “You keep trying to correct me, birthday girl… but I’m not the one in the wrong. You are, remember? You’re the one who fucked a student,” he said.
Heat burned my cheeks. I stared at a point on the wall to the side of him, stubbornly refusing to meet his eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to.
His fingers found my chin, and I jerked away.
“Don’t touch me. Someone could see,” I admonished.
