Page 41 of Sinister Games

CHAPTER13

RICHARD

The idiot threw a mug at me.

A mug.

Deflecting it with my forearm, I watched with detachment as it shattered. Then I looked up at the idiot… and smiled. Reaching for the buttons on my jacket, I began to unbutton each one.

“What are you smiling about?”

I shrugged out of my jacket.

“I’m going to call for security.”

Removing my cuff links and rolling up my sleeves, I finally looked at him. “It will be interesting how you explain throwing a mug at a member of the House of Lords.”

“Listen. This is all just a big misunderstanding.” Handleson threw his hands up as he backed a few steps away.

“So, what you’re saying is I didn’t see your hand on my woman’s ass?”

Handleson laughed nervously as he swept his sleeve over his brow. “No, see, that’s what I’m talking about. I wasn’t even touching her. It must have been the angles.”

The corners of my mouth downturned as I nodded. “Angles?”

“Yes. Angles.”

“So, you’re saying I’m wrong.”

“Yes. Totally wrong.”

Stepping around the desk, I struck out at him. Grabbing him by the throat, I ignored his clawing hands as he tried to dislodge my grasp. Easily lifting him a foot off the floor, I took several steps forward and slammed him against the wall. “Here’s the problem, Handleson.” I leaned in close. “I’m never wrong.”

Drawing my arm back, my free hand curled into a fist before laying one into his middle. With distaste, I watched his body crumple to the floor. Curling my lip as he pathetically tried to slide away while still being cramped into the fetal position, I warned him, “If you ever… ever… go near her again or say one goddamn word about her or this to anyone… well, I’ll leave the dire consequences up to your imagination. Have I made myself clear?”

Racked with coughs, Handleson could only nod.

Rolling my sleeves back down, I slipped my arms into my jacket while pocketing the cuff links. “I’ve looked into you, Handleson. Turns out you have a rather unsavory reputation for touching the women in your classes. Then threatening them with a poor grade if they report you. Professor Hands is I believe what you’re called.”

I ordered an investigative report done on all of Elizabeth’s teachers last week; it only hit my desk this morning. The moment I saw the notes on this asshole, realizing Elizabeth was at this very moment in his class, I cancelled the rest of my meetings and decided to pay her a visit. I knew a lowlife like him wouldn’t be able to keep his grimy hands off her.

Inhaling a deep breath through my nose, I reined in the anger that still boiled just beneath the surface at the sight of his hand on her hip. He dared to touch what was mine. Under normal circumstances I would have beat the man to a pulp, and still might, but that would have to wait till later. While an investigation could easily be squashed, I didn’t want the distraction. All of my energy was focused on Elizabeth and my plans right now.

By now Handleson was sliding on the floor through the dregs of coffee grounds and smashed porcelain of the mug he had thrown.

“If you know what is good for you, you will announce a family emergency which takes you out of the country for the foreseeable future. Do you understand me, Handleson?”

“Yes! Yes,” he croaked.

“If I ever hear of you touching a student… any student… again, I’ll see my promise through.”

Uncaring of his feeble, mumbled response and trusting my point had been made, I stepped over him, grabbed Elizabeth’s messenger bag, and left the classroom.

Time to deal with Elizabeth.

* * *

The black sedanwas rocking slightly and muffled shouts from the interior could be heard as I approached, my attention divided between the car and searching Elizabeth’s mobile phone. Her password was literally her birthday. This kind of adorable innocence was why she needed me in her life. I needed to protect her from herself and others. People took advantage of her perfect combination of beauty, intelligence, and naivety.

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