Page 12 of Forgotten Deeds

Taking the steps two at a time, I join the good professor, who’s taking a little cat nap at the landing of the stairs. Feeling his pulse—a shame; he’s still alive—I drag him back up the stairs by his feet, making sure his skull connects with each and every step. I find the bedroom, dragging him inside and tossing him on the bed. Surveying the damage, I smile. Is he ever going to feel this when he wakes up from his concussion. The professor likely has a broken ankle based on the swelling, along with various abrasions and bruises all over his body; not to mention some nasty internal bruising, and a nice-sized goose egg on his forehead.

Minutes pass before I loose patience. Grabbing a vial of smelling salts from my pocket, I open the tiny jar and wave it back and forth near the professor’s nose. His eyes snap open, and he goes to rip off the duct tape, but I wag my finger at him. He wisely stills his movement.

“What you just experienced? Fucking child’s play. If I have to come back for round two? Things will get very uncomfortable for you, professor,” I warn him. “Do you know what would make me come back for round two?”

He shakes his head furiously.

“If you try to fuck with Lily Grant again. You understand, professor? Lily is mine.” She just doesn’t know it yet.

He nods like a bobble head.

“Good. So here’s what’s going to happen—you’re going to take the rest of the semester off to recover from your ‘cycling’ accident. But not before you ensure Lily’s acceptance into grad school. At least, that’s what’s going to happen if you want to stay alive. You do want to stay alive, don’t you, Professor Miller?”

Eyes wide, he nods again.

“Excellent. Then my work here is done. Unless you so much as look at Lily, then my work isn’t done.” I make a little gun-shooting motion with my finger and thumb before strolling out. But not before grabbing my takeout bag.

Chapter Six

Lily

Spreading out our picnic blanket in the grass near the pond, Iris and I sit cross-legged as we nibble on sandwiches.

“Do I have to go with Dad today?” she wonders.

“Not today, sweetie. I’m sure he’s busy with work.” God, I get tired of covering for his sorry ass. If he’s not busy with work, then he’s busy with one of his many women.

“Okay,” she says, not sounding too disappointed. “Time to feed the ducks,” she announces dramatically, and I chuckle, opening a bag of crackers for her. She runs over to the water’s edge, tossing them in one-by-one.

Grabbing my phone, I fire off a message to Harrison.

Either be in Iris’ life or don’t. Your choice. But this halfway shit is getting old.

“Just a few more minutes,” I warn Iris as I gather our things.

“Aww!” She goes to work tossing the crackers in big handfuls.

“A rainbow goddess feeding a duck goddess!” Darius exclaims.

“What are you doing here?” I demand.

“Perfect day for a run.” He glances down to his long-sleeve tee and sweatpants, and my eyes follow. Damn the man for wearing gray sweatpants, and wearing them well.

“What duck goddess?” Iris asks, and I snap my attention to my daughter.

“Penelope. She’s a duck.” He makes a quack-quack sound.

Iris giggles. “Really?”

“Not exactly,” I say. “Penelope’s a goddess who was saved by ducks when she was a baby. She was later demoted from the important role of ushering in spring to that of Odysseus’ wife.”

“So your mama does like Greek mythology,” he tells me with a smirk. “Who wants to go ride the carousel?”

“Me! Me!” Iris hops up and down.

I shake my head. “We need to go.”

“Please, Mama?” She gives me her best puppy-dog eyes.

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