by Autumn Grey
She looks up, her eyes boring into mine. “Several weeks ago, I asked you if there was something going on between you and Professor Rowe. I’m going to ask you again, and I want the truth. What is your relationship with Professor Rowe?”
My stomach clenches painfully as bile rises to my throat. Why is she asking me this? Does she have proof?
“He’s my professor,” I say with more confidence, but deep inside me, I’m quaking with dread.
Her nostrils flare in anger. She snatches what looks like papers on the desk and tosses them in front of me.
My heart ceases beating.
My breathing stops as I stare in horror at the proof right in front of my eyes. Pictures of Nate and me together. The top one mocking me shows us kissing inside his car in his underground parking. Another one shows him backing me up against his car and kissing me, his fingers buried in my hair.
“Let’s do this again. What’s your relationship with Professor Rowe?”
This time I don’t answer. Instead, I focus on remaining calm, which is a huge feat. Where did she get the pictures? Was she that desperate to bring down Nate that she followed us and took photos of us?
“Good,” she says when I fail to say anything. “Mrs. Bowman’s assistant is a very good friend of mine. So when she found this among her mail, she forwarded them to me out of respect for my daughter.” She lifts her chin, smiling triumphantly. “You can leave now.”
I can’t move. My body is still going through the shockwaves of what just happened. “Professor Mast—”
“Leave, Miss Blake,” she snaps, turning her back on me. “You’ll be assigned a new tutor.”
Finally, I rise from my chair, taking my cello with me. “Please don’t report this to Mrs. Bowman,” I beg her. “Just give us until the end of the semester to sort this out.”
She twists her torso to look at me with narrowed eyes. “I’ve been waiting for that man to make a mistake. I won’t give this up for anything. So you can make your choice right now. Either you join me and save your place in this school, or you forfeit the chance and destroy your career, which hasn’t even begun yet.”
We eye each other for several heartbeats. I clear my throat, hoping to loosen the tightness there, but maintain eye contact.
“He loved your daughter. He still loves her,” I start to say in a calm voice. “How can you hate him when your daughter, your own flesh and blood, was the center of his world?”
She blinks at me and then looks down at her desk, her chest rising and falling with quick breaths. “You think you know him, but you don’t. He poisoned my daughter against me. He has to pay for what he did.”
Right there, I know there’s no way of talking her out of it. I know I have to choose between my heart and my waiting career. I also know that she and I won’t be having classes today.
It’s a no-brainer, though. I choose my heart, because that’s where Nate lives and I plan to keep him there.
I march to the door but stop and give her one last look. After talking to my mother weeks ago, I know that anger has no place in my heart. I wish Professor Masters realized that being angry only ends up poisoning you, and you can’t think clearly.
“Maybe it’s time to let go of the anger and concentrate on getting to know your daughter through the one person who knew her very well.”
I hear her hiss as I turn and walk out the door. Whatever she decides to do with the photos after this, Nate and I need to be prepared.
I walked out of her office with one goal in mind. I quickly pull up Nate’s number on my phone and open a new text and type, “I love you”, then press send. My phone buzzes immediately.
“I want you to say it to me face-to-face,” Nate says as soon as I pick up the call.
“I have a lot to tell you at dinner. See you in two hours,” I tell him, choosing not to tell him about my conversation with Professor Masters. I know him well by now. He’d end up storming into her office. God knows what would happen after that. “I love you.”
After we hang up, I cross the quad heading toward my car when my phone starts ringing in my bag. I dig it out and see Nor’s name flashing on the screen.
Oh shit. I can’t talk to her now. Not after the conversation I just had with Professor Masters.
The phone stops ringing, but then picks up again. I consider letting it go to voicemail but rethink my decision. What if whatever she has to say is urgent?
“Hey, Nor,” I greet as I slide into the driver’s seat. “What’s up, sis?”
“Hey. Shouldn’t you be having your cello lesson?” she asks. From her tone of her voice, she sounds distracted.
“My instructor cancelled the lesson. She wasn’t feeling well,” I lie. “I’m just heading to Studio 22, but I have a few minutes to talk.”
“Dad got arrested in Chicago.”
I suck in a breath. “What?” I lean back in my seat. Wow. I wasn’t expecting that. “Why?”
“Apparently he’s being held for homicide.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I mutter under my breath. “Was it in the news or something?”
She chuckles. “No. A man who said he was his friend called me.”
We stay quiet, my mind running a mile a minute. I hate that man. If he’s locked away, then I feel the entire human population would benefit with him behind bars. I search my mind for compassion, but all I find there is anger for what he put us through.
“Did this friend tell you where he’s being held?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she answers, then she goes on to tell me the details.
I don’t have a specific reason as to why I asked her. I hope he’s thinking about his life and what he did to the people close to him. My father left almost seven years ago. No one has heard from him or of him until now.
I huff a sigh. This day keeps getting better.
“Anyway, I have a lot going on right now. Are you coming down this weekend?”
“Yes,” I agree, still distracted and feeling the anger in me shift to rage. “I have to go. I love you, sis.”
“Love you. See you on Saturday.”
We hang up, and I throw the phone inside my bag.
Why do I even care about that bastard?
The answer comes to me swiftly: I care because I still crave acceptance from him. I care because deep inside I always hoped he’d realize what he had done to us and beg for forgiveness.
I thought I’d hardened my heart against this kind of pain. I thought I had accepted that those apologies will never come and moved on.
I was wrong. There was only one thing left for me to do.
Stephen Blake was in for a surprise.
AT EXACTLY 8:45 A.m., I step out of the automatic glass doors at O’Hare International Airport and join the long queue of people waiting for a cab outside the terminal.
Right after work, I drove to Nate’s place. He wasn’t in when I got there, so I let myself in with the key he gave me months ago. I wasn’t sure what the procedures were to visit a new inmate, so I did a search on Google and got the prison’s contact details, then called them to check on what was needed to visit Stephen. He hadn’t filled in the visitors list yet, since he’d arrived there three days ago. After the warden cleared me as his daughter as per the information in his presentence report, I spent the next thirty minutes searching for last-minute flights on a low budget.
By the time Nate arrived home from visiting Izzy, I’d worked out my itinerary for the following day. I’ve never done anything spontaneous or reckless like this before, but I was determined to see my father. I needed closure, and I was going to get it any way I could. Somewhere during my twenty-one years on this earth, I’d found my proverbial balls. I was ready to swing them every which way until I found my peace.
11 hours ago. . .
“What’s going on?” Nate asks, as he sets two plates on the table.
I open the Chinese takeout boxes and lump food on the plates, then turn to face him. “I love you. It has taken me a while to g
et here, but we’re on the same page now. I’m insanely in love with you.”
He grins, sending every part of me tingling with pleasure.
God, he’s beautiful.
He cups my neck and pulls me to him in a kiss. His fingers tighten on my hair when my lips part and our lips tangle together.
“I fucking love you, Elon Blake,” he murmurs against my lips, and I can feel his smile in his words.
He sits down and pulls me on his lap, lifts my shirt over my back, then kisses the back of my neck. I shiver, squirming on his lap. “I love how you shiver for me, Little Wolf.”
“You’re pretty addictive,” I say, arching my back when his mouth follows a trail down my spine. “W—we need to talk.”
“And I need to kiss every inch of you,” he growls, sending heat between my legs.
Oh God. He’s distracting me, destroying every rational thought.
I jump from his lap and turn around, panting. My eyes dart to his lap, eyeing the bulge in his pants, then I meet his smoldering gaze.
“Professor Masters has photos of you and me.”
His brows furrow as he shifts on his seat, adjusting himself with his hand. “What?”
I begin to tell him what went down in Elizabeth’s office. By the time I’m done, his eyes are no longer gleaming with heat and lust. Fury leaves his body in waves; he’s literally vibrating with it.
“Fuck!” He jumps off the seat and starts to pace, gripping the nape of his neck with his hand. “I knew she wasn’t going to stop until she found something to destroy me. You need to take the deal she gave you.”
My eyes widen. “Are you serious? How can you say that?”
He stops in front of me and cups my cheek in his left hand. “We both knew the risks before this. But she’s offering you a way out. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be—”
“No! God, Nate. I’m not going to take the deal. I knew what I was doing when I gave you my number, when I kissed you first.”
“Elon—”
“No. We are in this together, okay?” I take his hand from my cheek and place his palm flat on my chest. “I’m not letting you take the fall.”
Nate grunts under his breath, pulling his hand away from me.”If she didn’t take the photos then that means. . .” His eyes go wide, and I know his thoughts mirror mine.
“Rick?” I ask. “You think he’d follow us around just to take pictures?”
His eyes bore into mine. “He followed us after the fundraising ball because he wanted to see you. He must have figured out who I was.”
He said he’d make us pay.
Shit. SHIT.
“That demented fucker,” he curses, nostrils flaring. “I should have smashed his face in when I had the chance.”
“We know what to expect if Elizabeth reports this to Mrs. Bowman,” I say, moving to sit on the couch, our takeout completely forgotten.
He sits next to me and declares with conviction, “I’ll talk to Elizabeth.”
My man is stubborn, and when he gets like this, there’s no way to convince him otherwise. With my thoughts bouncing between my scheduled visit to my father and the looming threat that is Professor Masters, I burrow my head in my boyfriend’s chest as he holds me tight.
After I left Nate’s place, I drove back to my apartment without telling him about my plans to visit my father. I knew he’d try to stop me or offer to go with me. For me to find the peace I craved, I needed to do this alone.
I packed an overnight bag, then snuck out at five in the morning and drove to the airport without telling Amber. I knew she’d try to talk me out of it, or worse, call my sisters. This was between Stephen and me. It was finally time to close that chapter of my life and allow myself to heal from the past. I have a man who loves me. I don’t want to carry all that baggage into this relationship.
I intend to tell Nor and Elise that I visited our father when I fly back to Florida.
10:55 a.m. finds me sitting in front of a man with pale skin and sunken eyes. Eyes similar to mine.
Stephen Blake looks nothing like the man who left his family behind seven years ago. For just a second, his eyes soften, his features gentling as his gaze roams my face. The look is gone as fast as it appeared.
“Hey, Dad,” I finally greet.
He sits back in his chair and smiles smugly. “I didn’t expect anyone to ever come visit me.”
Small talk has never been my strong suit, so I jump right into the issue. “I see you haven’t changed.”
“Why did you come here?” Stephen asks.
“Closure,” I say calmly. He frowns slightly at my words. “You made our life hell. Do you know how much I wanted to have a father who loved me? How much I missed having a father who’d comfort me or someone I could talk to? Every child in school was proud, boasting about what their fathers did. Me, I was busy, trying hard not to cry whenever we were supposed to invite our fathers for Dad’s Day at school.”
“That bitch you call your mother, it’s all her fault. She got pregnant so she could trap me.”
“Why did you marry her if she disgusted you so much?” I ask heatedly.
His mouth pulls up into an evil smile. “She had money. And she was pretty.”
“So my sisters and I were—”
“Collateral damage.”
I stare at him for a long time, blinking back tears.
“You should be thanking me, you ungrateful little shit,” he says with a sneer.
“For what?”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?”
I laugh bitterly, shaking my head. “Yeah. You’re right. I should be thanking you for shaping me to be the person I am today. You taught me how to fear my own father. But this—this person sitting here in front of you? This is me. All of me. I rose above my fears and made something of myself. I learned to fight. I learned that life wasn’t only made up of shades of black, white and grey, but also color. So much color. I made an effort to learn from my past. I learned to love and trust.”
Swiping a hand against my wet cheeks, I take a deep, calming breath. He doesn’t deserve my tears or any more words from me.
“We’ve all left that life in the past. Even Mom is happy without you in her life. Cole and Nor are finally together, despite what you did to them. I met a man who’s ten times better than the man you were or ever will be. He loves me.”
I rise from my chair and sling my bag over my shoulder and meet his gaze head-on. “So yes, Father. Thank you. May you rot in hell.”
He laughs. “Cutting your visit short, darling daughter?”
Ignoring his taunting remark, I straighten my shoulders and walk out of the room with newfound perspective and dignity.
That man back there is nothing more than a sperm donor.
I walk into a park and sit on the first bench I come across, then dig my phone from my bag and power it on. Right after visiting Stephen, I couldn’t sit still. I’ve been roaming the streets of Chicago for the past hour. My flight back to Florida is scheduled for 6:25 p.m., which is almost five hours from now.
My phone buzzes nonstop with messages and missed calls. I click on the screen and count a total of ten missed calls from Nate, numerous messages from Amber, Elise and Nor.
I scroll down the list and tap on Nor’s name, then hold the phone to my ear. For some reason, I need to hear her voice before anyone else’s.
“Elon?” she shrieks, picking up the call on the first ring. “Where have you been? Amber called me when she couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“Chicago,” I whisper, then sniff.
There are a few seconds of silence, then, “WHAT?!”
My head jerks back in shock. I’ve never heard my sister raise her voice before now.
“Please tell me this is a joke.”
“I wanted to see him,” I mutter, my throat clogging with tears. I slant my head back and focus on the blue skies. “I just wanted to look in his eyes when I asked him if he ever loved me. Us. I wanted closure.”
&
nbsp; “Oh, honey,” she sobs, and I cry harder. “I’d have gone with you.”
I shake my head. “No. I wanted to do this alone, Nor. You’ve been my guardian angel my entire life. It was time for me to grow up and stop hiding beneath your wings.”
She sniffs. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Yes. Our father is a psychotic asshole.”
She bursts out laughing, which makes me smile, then says, “I’ll make sure they put those words on his headstone. So, are you coming home?”
“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“I love you, little sis. And Elon,” she adds the latter after a pause. “Don’t you ever go off the grid like that without letting anyone know where you are. Okay?”
“Okay, Nor. I love you, too.”
We hang up, then I realize in my haste to leave Jacksonville, I’d forgotten about my classes at Studio 22. So I call them and give them some bullshit excuse about being sick.
God, I feel like I’ve become a world class liar these days.
I text Amber and Elise back and give them a very short version of what happened, then let them know that I’ll call them later.
Finally, I call Nate, then sit back on the bench and wait. He’s the only person who can make this crushing pain go away, who can make me forget everything just by hearing his voice. Right now, I need that.
“Christ. Where the hell have you been, Elon?” Nate asks the second he answers the call, sounding panicked and angry.
“Hey, baby.” I take a deep, calming breath. “I’m sorry for leaving without telling you.”
“Where are you?”
“Chicago. I got in this morn—”
“Wait, what? Why?” He sounds baffled and something else. Suspicious.
“My father was arrested for homicide and got transferred to a prison here in Chicago. I wanted to see him so I—”
“Whoa. When did this happen?” he interrupts my rant.
“A few days ago.”
He’s quiet for a couple seconds, then asks, “You didn’t mention it last night.”
