Reckless Longing

by Gina Robinson

  I frowned. "Get me help? What are you talking about?"

  "Your obsession with Mia and thinking you're her sister—"

  "What?" I felt the blood rush to my face and flame, followed by a current of rage both startling and scary in its intensity. Suddenly I knew how Doug felt when he smashed Austin's face.

  "Don't deny it. We have a nanny cam. Maybe I should have told you, but I thought you'd assume. Everyone has one." He paused. "I caught it on film—"

  "You filmed me? You spied on me? You asshole!"

  He looked startled by my outburst. But what did he expect? "Calm down, Ellie. Let's not let this get ugly—"

  "Too late." Seriously, I had to fight to keep from throwing something at him. It was a good thing there was nothing handy. I took a deep breath. "I hate to tell you this, Sherlock, but you should have left well enough alone. I was going to be altruistic and keep my secret so I wouldn't mess up your perfect life." I whipped my phone out of my pocket and brought up the picture of me as a baby.

  "You've been wondering all semester who I remind you of—how come you've never realized I remind you of you?" I whipped the phone around so he could see the picture of me.

  "Congratulations! It's a girl. Nineteen years ago. Whip out the cigars, daddy. You're my father."

  He grabbed the phone and stared at the picture of me. "Why do you have a picture of Mia—"

  He cut himself off and went pale as he realized Mia didn't have an outfit like the baby in the picture was wearing. And the room in the background wasn't familiar to him. His mouth fell open. His eyes narrowed. "Who?"

  "It's been nearly twenty years, but Mom will be really pissed if she ever finds out you don't remember the time you spent with her. Or were you such a player you honestly have no idea who my mother is? Does the name Melissa Ann Sawyer mean anything to you?"

  He slumped and leaned back against his desk, going so pale he was deathly white. "No. It can't be. I don't believe you. It was just once—"

  "Hate to tell you, but once is all it takes." I slipped my backpack off my shoulder, set it on the floor and whipped out that DNA test kit of mine. "I kind of expected that would be your response. Mom has terrible taste in men. They always deny accountability. Why should you be any different?"

  He jumped when I stormed over and slapped the kit on the desk next to him. "Want to prove it one way or the other?"

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jason froze, staring at the kit.

  "It's your call," I said. "But if you refuse, I'll contact my lawyer and sue you for college expenses. The judge will make you prove paternity." I was bluffing, probably. But I was so angry and hurt that maybe I would.

  I ripped the brown paper off the kit and tore open the box, pulling out the sealed swabs and envelopes for the child and alleged father. "Two days plus mailing time is all it takes. The results are posted confidentially online."

  His Adam's apple bobbed. He stared at it like it was a coiled snake. "Where did you get that?"

  "Does it matter? You can buy them just about anywhere—Walmart, Walgreens. Check the freshness date if you're worried." I held the box and one of the swabs out to him.

  He grabbed the box, read the directions, and tore open the swab's wrapper. "This stays between us."

  I nodded. "I was just about to make the same demand. No one else knows, not even Lyssa. Not Logan."

  He nodded. "Agreed. Ready?"

  We held our swabs like a pair of duelers, eying each other with about as much trust. Together we ran the cotton swabs against the insides of our cheeks and over our gums. We each watched the other as we put the swabs in the appropriate envelopes, filled them out, and stuck them in the large envelope.

  He stared at the envelope on the desk and ran his hand through his hair until it stood up on end at odd angles. "How is Melissa?" His voice was soft, nearly a whisper.

  I didn't like his concerned tone, like he was genuinely curious and maybe had cared about her at one point. Maybe still did. It frightened me. "I don't know."

  He stared at me.

  "If you really watched that nanny cam video, you know what she did to me and that we don't talk."

  He shifted like he was uncomfortable. "The audio wasn't that good, Ellie. There was a point when you were whispering. I didn't catch everything."

  I had to disabuse him of any sentimental notion he might have harbored about my mother. "She slept with my boyfriend."

  His eyes went wide. He gave me a pitying look. "I'm sorry."

  I couldn't tell whether this was the kind of thing he expected of the Melissa he'd known or not. I lifted my chin. I wasn't a pity case. "If you mean how has she been in general these last twenty years?" I shrugged. "She's in the middle of her third divorce."

  I narrowed my eyes at him. I could see the curiosity still shining in his. "We made a deal—no one knows. That means you promise not to contact my mom. She doesn't know you're here. If she finds out, she'll raise hell and make both our lives miserable. Got it?"

  He nodded.

  "One more thing—I need this job." I pointed between him and me. "This thing between us is personal and has nothing to do with my job performance. I don't appreciate being called on the carpet at the job when my record is spotless. That ends here."

  He looked sheepish. He should have. He'd overstepped professional bounds and abused his position of power. I think he got my implied threat, too.

  "You're right. I'm sorry about that." He stared at the envelope. "What do we do now?"

  "We walk it to the post office together and mail it. Then we go back to work and wait."

  He grabbed his coat from the rack in the corner. "Let's go."

  It was almost impossible to concentrate for the rest of my shift. I had to keep ignoring Karen's questioning looks. Jason ostensibly left for a meeting, but I thought it was cover. I was sure he needed time alone to think. Accusing me of having some sick obsession complex with Mia was probably an intellectual alibi. When confronted with the truth, he couldn't escape it.

  I had a moment of panic—what if I was wrong? What if Mom was wrong again and Jason wasn't my dad? It passed. We were going to find out. But deep down I knew.

  On the way back to my room I ran through the math. It would take one to three days for the test kit to reach the lab. Then twenty-four to forty-eight hours for the results. That put getting the results back at Thursday at the earliest, but more likely Friday or Monday. The thought made my pulse race and my stomach knot. One way or another, my world was about to change.

  The week slunk on at a crawl. Logan and Jason were working on a special, top-secret project together that kept them out of the office. Jason was avoiding me now, too.

  The week was annoying and sad in other ways, too. Everyone had a dad who was coming for the weekend and making plans. Even the dorm had several dad/daughter functions planned. Posters advertising campus Dad's Weekend events hung everywhere and reminder notices popped up on my university email account every morning. I got real sick real fast of answering questions about what I was doing with my dad and the looks of pity I received when I said all I had was a single mother.

  Bre talked non-stop about her daddy. She was daddy's little girl and had all kinds of fun things planned to do with him and Dan's dad. Too much and too many girlie things, in my opinion. She was so nervous and excited about meeting Dan's dad and his dad meeting hers she was hard to live with. I avoided her whenever possible.

  Taylor and Nic were a bit mellower, but just as excited in their own way. All of them invited me to tag along with them, but I thanked them, reminding them I was Logan's fake girlfriend for the weekend—though I was pretty sure that was off, even if Logan had not officially said so. But it made for a good cover so they wouldn't pity me so much and worry about me being alone.

  On Friday, I went back to chem class. Waiting for the DNA test results was driving me crazy and making my stomach burn with each passing hour. How many times a day can you check your email? Every time a new message p
inged on my phone my heart stopped.

  Dex, who'd been so understanding on Monday and Wednesday, insisted with startling vehemence I return on Friday. Even though I argued with him, insisting I needed the time to study for a BA 315 quiz.

  "You fucking well better come or I'll never forgive you," he said. "Man up. You have to move on, Ellie."

  My heart hammered so loudly as I made my way down the auditorium steps to where Dex was saving my usual seat that I swore the entire class could hear it.

  "Good to have you back, Ellie. I was afraid you wouldn't show." Dex handed me a cup of coffee.

  As I took it, I forced a shaky smile. "What did I do to deserve this?"

  "It takes a brave woman to face her fears. I don't think you'll need that to stay awake today, but just in case." He winked.

  What did he know? He was being totally cryptic and seemingly unconcerned that we'd be discovered as the perps in the great projector prank. A week had passed without suspicion. I wondered how long it would take me to calm down. I was under way too much stress. The news had been all over social media that the cops had no suspects and other, more important cases to solve. Halloween had been a banner night for DUIs, minors in possession, drug busts, assaults, and vandalism. In retrospect, pulling the prank just before Halloween had been another of Dex's brilliant strokes, one that I hadn't realized before.

  The bell rang. Dr. Rogers walked to the podium.

  "Don't look away," Dex whispered to me. "You have to see this. It's the best part of class."

  She stared at the projector, obviously nervous, flipped the switch on and jumped back before glaring at us, daring us to laugh.

  The class was pin-drop silent. Dex leaned into me and whispered again. "If anyone laughs, she goes on a tirade. It's kind of fun to watch. I have it all on film. But last time she threatened to dock the grade of anyone she caught. Killjoy."

  I hated her on sight. Really hated her, practically shivering with revulsion. How could anyone sleep with her? How could anyone ever touch her cold flesh and kiss her tight-lipped, pinched mouth?

  My mouth went dry as I opened my notebook and poised my pencil to take notes. I braced myself, trying to steel myself against the sound of her grating voice, trying not to picture it going silky as she cooed sweet nothings in Logan's ear. Trying to shut all the unbidden images of her touching him from my mind. I felt sick, like I was going to throw up.

  This was a bad idea, a very bad idea. I couldn't sit here in her class. I was crazy to think I could. A tidal wave of panic crashed over me. It was too late to drop chem. But there was no way I could finish the semester. I could stop going, take my F, and retake the class next semester, but what would I gain? She was the only prof who ever taught it.

  I could barely breathe. My college career was ruined. I had to get out of the class before I passed out or threw up. I grabbed my coffee, notebook, and backpack.

  Dex caught my arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Hang in, Ellie." His eyes were full of compassion. "Just a little longer—"

  A commotion at the back entrance of the auditorium caught our attention. I turned to look. Two uniformed police officers and another man I assumed was a detective walked down the aisle toward us.

  My heart stopped. We were in deep trouble now. They were going to arrest Dex and me, embarrass and humiliate us before our peers and that bitch Dr. Rogers. I could just picture her sick, satisfied smile. Students really are beneath me.

  My hands trembled so badly I had to set my coffee down and clutch the pop-up desk.

  Dex put his hand over my white knuckles. "Breathe," he whispered, his voice reassuring and calm as the cops walked passed us all the way to the podium. "This is going to be legendary."

  I collapsed with relief and put my head on my desk.

  "Stop that," Dex whispered in a teasing tone. "You look guilty." He laughed.

  What was so funny? What did he have to be excited and happy about? There was no doubt he was.

  "I don't look guilty. I look sleepy. Stupid nine o'clock classes."

  "Dr. Rhonda Rogers?"

  Her mic picked up the detective's question.

  I popped my head up. What was going on?

  "I'm Detective Wright." He flashed his badge. "We'd like a word."

  She stared at him and his fellow cops with ice in her eyes. "I'm in the middle of class." She pointed her dry-erase pen at them and then at the door as if she had complete authority to order them out of her classroom like misbehaving students.

  "I'd rather do this in private," Detective Wright said.

  "Really?" She flung the word like an insult. "Then you can wait for office hours."

  Detective Wright didn't flinch. "I think you know why I'm here. The jig is up. Come peacefully. You don't want to make a scene in front of your class." He stared at her.

  She glared back at him and bolted for the door. One of the other two cops grabbed and restrained her as she kicked and screamed obscenities.

  Detective Wright whipped out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed her. "You have the right to remain silent…"

  The crowd gasped as he recited the Miranda warning and it began to sink in that they were arresting her.

  I turned to Dex with my eyes wide.

  He was smiling.

  "You knew about this!" I whispered to him.

  "Shhhhh. You don't want to miss a minute of this show."

  "You can't do this!" Her voice was so shrill it would have hurt a dog's ears, her face red and contorted with rage. She turned and looked at the class, shrieking more obscenities. If looks could kill…

  "I'll get whoever did this! You can't hold me—"

  One of the cops disconnected her mic, cutting off the rest of her tirade. It squealed with feedback, as if it, too, was angry and offended.

  The class was stunned silent as they dragged her off the stage.

  The detective grabbed the mic. "Class dismissed."

  The auditorium erupted in applause as Detective Wright followed the other two cops and Dr. Rogers out of the room through the instructor's entrance.

  Dex grabbed his backpack. "And that's how you take down an evil professor." He was beaming. "Perfect timing."

  You'd think with his face lit up like that he would have looked out of place. But everyone was jubilant and laughing, talking and speculating.

  "Are you going to explain?" I slung my backpack over one shoulder.

  "Not here. Let me buy you a cup of coffee."

  I held my cup up. "You already have."

  "Let me buy you a fresh one."

  We filed out of the auditorium into the cold sunshine of a November morning. Frost covered the ground and our breath puffed around us.

  "I thought you had class?" I said.

  "Screw class. We need to talk."

  He was so full of excitement and energy, I had to run to keep up with him.

  He pointed at me. "Text Logan. He'll want to hear the news. From you especially."

  I hesitated, confused, my heart pounding. "We're not talking. And I don't even know what's going on. How does this affect Logan?"

  "Be the bigger person, Ellie. Put the bullshit behind you and reach out first. You'll be glad you did. Tell him Dr. Rogers has been arrested. He'll put two and two together. It affects him, trust me."

  I pulled out my phone and texted Logan like Dex commanded. Sometimes it was easier not to fight Dex. Especially when he made a good point about being the bigger person. Maybe this would clarify where our weekend plans stood.

  "I want you to meet my dad, too. He's eager to meet you."

  I looked up from my phone. "Your dad's here already?"

  Dex shrugged and grinned at me again. "Who do you think orchestrated this bust? I didn't have the resources to do it on my own."

  "What did you tell him about me?"

  "Only the good stuff."

  "Like what?" I was really curious. I hadn't pictured Dex bringing me up to his dad ever.

  "Like how you played lookout for us."<
br />
  "You told him about the prank?" I couldn't keep the shock out of my voice.

  "I had to." He led the way to the busy SUB cafeteria, which was already buzzing with the news. "Come on. Let's grab a table. Dad said he'd meet us here."

  We found one in the corner in the middle of the buzz, but away from prying ears.

  I set my coffee on the table and dumped my backpack in the empty chair next to me. "Okay, spill it before I die of curiosity. What's going on?"

  He smiled. "You should have seen your face when the cops walked in—epic!"

  "Shut up!" I leaned in and whispered to him. "I thought they were coming for us."

  He laughed. "I know."

  "Okay, what happened in chem? Why did the cops cuff Rogers?" Then I grinned. "That's fun to say."

  "Oh, yeah." He nodded and leaned across the table. "You just saw Dr. Rogers being arrested on charges of manufacturing and selling illegal date-rape drugs."

  I gasped. "Date-rape drugs? No way."

  He nodded and whispered. "The night we went on our midnight excursion?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I went into her lab and office. I thought I'd just pull a last-minute prank. I had a few things in my backpack, some toilet paper and shit. That's when I found her equipment."

  My eyes went wide as I realized why Dex had acted strange when he came out of the chem building that night.

  My phone rang with the distinctive tone I'd set for Logan. I glanced at Dex and frowned. My hands shook as I picked the phone up. "A text from Logan."

  Great news. With luck, you'll get an A now, haha. Hey, sorry about being an ass. You're right—I had no right to talk to you like that. You still owe me ;-) See you at seven? Can't wait for you to meet Dad.

  "What does he say?"

  "He thinks we're still on for the weekend." I couldn't keep the wonder out of my voice. I couldn't decide if Logan was being contrite, forgiving, or incredibly arrogant.

  Dex grinned, looking smug. "Told you you'd be glad." He hesitated when he saw my expression. "You are going to do it?"

  "I—"

  "You are going to do it." His tone changed from question to command.

  Finally, I nodded and texted Logan back. Forgiven. See you at seven. Nervous about meeting your dad. You might have to hold my hand, haha.