by S. Silver
The Naughty Teacher
© Naughty Nicole 2016 – All rights reserved
Published by Steamy Reads4U
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
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Warning
This book contains graphic content intended for readers 18+ years old.
If you are under 18 years old, or are not comfortable with adult content, please close this book now.
Chapter One
Every morning at 6:00 am Tricia woke up and made her husband the same thing. He wanted hard scrambled eggs, slightly blackened toast and thick black coffee. He didn’t want jam or butter and he certainly didn’t want cream or sugar.
She moved expertly through the pristine bedroom and into the bathroom where she brushed her teeth, threw in a bit of mouthwash and put her shoulder length blond hair in a ponytail. At 50 years old, Tricia had managed to maintain most of her good looks, her athletic body and her soft complexion. She was a worker. She walked downstairs and maneuvered through the kitchen performing her mindless tasks until about seven when her husband, Rick walked downstairs with tired eyes and a robe. Rick wasn’t a worker.
“Good morning, sweetie.” She set down a glass of orange juice in front of him.
He slammed it and yawned loudly without responding. She softly set the plate down and gave him the newspaper she’d brought in earlier.
“Did you sleep well?”
His mouth was full, but he nodded his head. She looked at him and smiled then walked back up to the bedroom to change and shower. When she got downstairs, he was still eating and he only had an hour to get to work. She decided to pick up the kitchen.
“You almost done, sweetie?”
He didn’t say anything. He just kept his head in the newspaper.
“You only have an hour to get to work, you know.”
He slammed the paper down and glared at her. “I’m not going to listen to his every single morning, Tricia.” He stood up and slammed his plate into the sink before he ran upstairs to mope and get dressed.
She leaned against the counter to take a breath. She didn’t want any of this to be happening to her, but it was like this every single day. He was constantly yelling at her and mocking her. He’d have that sour face and that mocking tone. It was terrible. She didn’t know what she was doing wrong.
She decided to walk upstairs and try to talk some sense into him. She tried to open the bedroom door but it was locked. She knocked and there was no answer. She knocked again and he screamed, “Go away!” It sounded like he was close to the door so he must’ve been just sitting on the bed.
He had no work ethic, no sense and he had a temper like a lion. She wasn’t going to put up with it for very long. There was $800 taped to the bottom of the driver’s seat in her car, and soon she would get out, but first she was going to burn his entire world to the ground and piss on his grave. He’d pushed her so far, with his bitter attitude and his slave camp home life, that she knew for certain that there was nothing in the world that could stop her from tearing his life to shreds.
She wasn’t going to burn his clothes or destroy his car. She couldn’t burn the house down no matter how much she wanted to. Those things would make her look crazy, and she wasn’t crazy. She was driven. The man she loved, and she did love him, had trampled over her for more than six years. She had to make sure that he looked back and regretted every bit of it, and she needed to break his heart good.
If she did something that made her look crazy, he would write her off and move on with his life, and he wasn’t allowed to move on. She understood why Diana left him, and his daughter refused to speak to him for years. The man was incorrigible. She was bitter, hateful and he didn’t care one bit about her.
Even now, she was crouched against the bedroom door, with tears streaming down her face. She was mourning what could’ve been and what would never be. She loved this man and she could try. She might still try to make it work, but she knew it wouldn’t. He hated everything and everyone that ever came into contact with him.
She closed her eyes and tried not to think about that candlelit dinner at Vito’s when he handed her a bread stick and with a silver band encrusted with diamonds in the center. She couldn’t take it off. It became a slave’s collar that she couldn’t take off from around her finger, and no matter how hard she tried, it simply wouldn’t go away.
The door flew open and she fell to the ground. Her eyes were wide and his sour face was staring down at her. “Get up! Stop, Tricia, just stop,” he barked. He was acting like she was doing something to him, but he was the one that made her life a nightmare.
He stepped over her and barely missed her hand. He ran down the stairs and slammed the door without even apologizing or telling her that he loved her. She’d never felt this kind of despair before, and she knew that she couldn’t allow herself to feel it again.
She didn’t know if she had the strength to do it. She loved him too much to let him go. It started small. She’d take a few dollars from his wallet when he was sleeping or get a bit of cash back when she went to the store. She’d make up excuses and tell him that things were more than they should’ve been. Over time, the money started to add up.
That was about six months ago, but she wasn’t going to stop there. She’d earned a lot more than a thousand dollars working for this man. She had a full time job dealing with him. She cooked all of his meals and polished their sterile cookie cutter house. All of her devotion and all of her heartache were worth more than he made in ten years.
She vacuumed and scrubbed until her hands were raw. He worked her ragged. He used to sit at the kitchen table or on the couch and point out stains for her to clean for him. She did it too. She scrubbed the baseboards and the carpets. She scoured the countertops in the bathroom and the kitchen. She was still devoted to him; even now after all these years.
Tricia got up and hopped in the shower. She let her worries and pain wash down the drain and soaked in the hot steam and refreshing body wash. It was her morning ritual. After their usual fight and her ensuing sadness, she would comfort herself, even run her fingers where his would never go, and then she would towel off and look in the mirror to find the tired face sitting in front of her. She would get through—she always did.
Once her hair was dry, she dawned her t-shirt and track pants. She laced up her running shoes and headed out into the balmy east coast cold. She got her blood pumping by stretching then running in place then she made her way down the steep driveway and onto the sidewalk where she headed out down the hill. She loved to have the cold air passing over her.
Running was her comfort. It kept her going and allowed her to be alone with her thoughts. When Tricia ran she could do anything. She was the master of her destiny. She could stare at a spot in front of her and say that that was her finish line and she would get there and then she kept running. It told her that she could overcome any obstacle—no matter how hard.
Chapter Two
“No.” Jake was standing firm on his position. Nicole didn’t want to hear it. This was the sixth time she’d called him, and all he was doing was sitting at home and playing Kingdom’s Journey. He was going to their house if she had to drag them there.
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“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just throw some old clothes in the washer real quick and I’ll help you with the rest.”
Nicole checked to make sure her short black hair and bright red lipstick was perfect then she grabbed her luggage and headed over to Jake’s in her new black sedan. She knocked on the door, which was partially open and he didn’t answer. His 2nd floor one bedroom was filled with smoke and the pungent smells of old gym socks. He was a 27 year-old frat boy and he didn’t plan on changing. She just walked in like she always did and she found him on the lime green couch with a cigarette in his hand and a beer in the other hunched over and continuing his never ending quest to level 99. The click of the controllers was the only sound when she walked past into the kitchen to find a pile of rancid dishes and a black suitcase already filled up on the ground.
His charcoal hair was already spiked in the middle and he’d changed into his good black gauge earrings. He was ready before she even called. “Seriously,” she yelled out from the kitchen as she stepped over a pile of pizza boxes from the living room. He took a quick slurp of ramen so he didn’t answer right away. She stared him down. He wasn’t going to get out of those six phone calls worth of trouble. He went back to laying and pretended not to hear her. But she walked straight in front of the television and he gave her the look of death.
“What!?”
“Don’t you what me!” She had her hand on her hips like a mother scolding her son. “You said that you were staying and you hung up on me six times knowing just how important this was to me. She needs my support, Jake.” She noticed that he had a clean shirt on, fairly clean pants and he’d showered and put on his shoes. He was ready the entire time.
She had him and he knew it. “Fine. I knew you’d make me go so I put up a fight just in case I could get out of it then I got ready so I wouldn’t have to fight forever with you while I got ready.”
This was typical Jake. He was always prepared so he could be as lazy as possible. Nicole never knew whether to slap it out of him or foster it, but she knew for certain that it was the strangest quality she’d ever seen.
“Alright. Get up. We’re leaving.”
‘Aw, come on. Lemme just get to another level.” His fingers were moving as furiously as possible as if the digital world were about to end.
She walked out the door without responding. He knew it would be Armageddon if he didn’t follow her so he was saving the game before she was down the driveway and in the car before she had the keys in the ignition.
“Jake,” Nicole asked as they pulled out onto the major street, “when you were a kid, did you ever fall asleep in the clothes and shoes you were planning on wearing the next day.”
“I left the shoes by the bed.” Of course he did.
He looked out the window in order to encourage silence.
“Do you know why we’re doing this?”
Jake sighed. “Your dad’s a terrible person, Nicole. I get it. I know his life story and we’ve psychoanalyzed the man for months now. That doesn’t mean that I agree that you need to get your stepmother to leave him.”
“You don’t know what it’s like, Jake.” Every time she closed her eyes she saw his red contorted face, and how he’d scream at her for hours. He mocked her, he beat her sill when she was small. She remembered the way she’d run out innocently to the fridge when she was little to get him another beer. She loved doing it just to please him.
Nicole knew how her stepmother felt. It was that same desire she had when she was a kid. She just wanted to make him happy, but he would never be happy. He pushed every single woman he met until she either left or went crazy.
“How long does it take to get there?”
“Three hours.” Jake didn’t react, but she could tell that he thought it was too much trouble.”
* * *
It started small. At first it was little things that he wanted. He’d ask her to get him a glass of water or a beer. Then he moved onto bigger things like what they should eat for dinner. Of course, she had to be instructed as to how he wanted it. Then he was too tired to do the dishes. Then could she clean that spot off the carpet? And why wasn’t the house straightened up when he got home from work?
The little things turned into larger discussions about how the house should be run, how dinner should be made and what chores should be done when he got home. When she completed them, he didn’t say anything. When she didn’t do it, he screamed at her and blamed her for all of the little things in his life that bothered him.
Rick did give her little bits of reinforcement at times, but it was mostly just talk. He never gave her anything. He didn’t even let her have her own life.
It was all perfectly calculated. He knew exactly what to do and how to do it in order to have his own personal slave—that’s what she was. The sick part was, Tricia realized as she vacuumed the living room, she knew he was doing it the entire time and her love and devotion to him kept her from stopping him. If she did something to defend herself, she’d be betraying him.
An old Bee Gees record was blasting songs about life and love while she tried to get things done and avoid her resentment.
She told herself that it wasn’t over, that she was imagining things and that she should just live her life, but the way he spoke to her. There were so many times when he was sure she was going to hit her. She didn’t know how long he’d hold back. He drank too much. He always had one bottle of liquor going and a twelve pack of dark beer.
The music was so loud that she hardly noticed the phone ringing till she saw the light flashing on the receiver. He was almost home, but she could risk it. It was definitely Nicole.
“Hello?” She whispered even though she knew that nobody was around. That was the effect he had on her.
“Hey, Trish. You doing OK?”
“You know, thank you so much for this, Nicole.”
“It’s alright sweetie. I gotta. I know what it’s like.” Nicole was her only comfort. She was estranged from her father for more than 7 years, but she found Tricia on FB. At first it was simple correspondence until Tricia finally snapped and told the girl everything. She told Tricia that was why she got in touch with her. It made sense. She never wanted her father to know that they spoke.
“Where are you?” Tricia felt like a secret agent. She ran to the pantry in case he came in. he’d be home any time now.
“We’re about an hour away. When does he leave for his trip?”
“I’m not sure. I can call you later when he leaves.”
“Can’t I just come get you now?” Nicole was ready to get the whole thing over with, but Tricia wasn’t even sure what she was going to do it. There were two urges, both stronger than her, leading her in two directions. She couldn’t resist the need to leave any more than she could resist the devotion that kept her there. She had to act and she had to act quick because this might be her only chance.
“Nicole I do-
The door opened wide and Rick grabbed the phone away from her in a flash. “Nicole!?” He slammed the phone shut. She clearly hung up on him. Tricia had no idea what was going to happen, but she knew it was going to be bad. He slammed her against the wall, with his breath drenched in cheap whiskey. He shouted, “Why are you talking to her!?” He raised his fist and she slammed her foot into him.
“Did you just do that? To me? Oh, you don’t wanna keep on living, boy.” She ran upstairs faster than he could follow her. She opened the vent and pulled out her money and the gun that she kept there just in case. She ran into their garage and grabbed a suitcase full of clothes and ran out the front. No doubt Nicole would drive up any minute.
Rick rushed out the door after her and started screaming, “I loved you!”
“No, Rick, you didn’t. It’s over. I’m through.” At that point, after he lifted his hand, she didn’t care. The universe imploded and there was nothing left but a broken shell of their lives together. Even if Nicole didn’t show up, she wasn’t going to spend one more second
with him.
“PLEASE!” He slammed down onto the ground and started balling. He pounded his head into the grass, and all she did was watch silently. She was thoroughly pleased be his reaction, but it wasn’t over until he had a pill bottle and a razor blade in his hand.
Nicole did in fact pull up at that moment. They’d never met and Tricia had never seen her car, but somehow she knew it was her. She grabbed her bag right before the girl slammed on her brakes and jumped out. She ran over to Tricia, who was getting a bit teary eyed, and gave her a big hug. “You alright, sweetie.”
“I am now. Let’s go.”
“There’s one more thing I have to do first. This is the last time I’m ever going to see him.” Nicole ran over and kicked her father square in the face then she said, “I love you daddy,” in a mocking tone. There was blood running down his broken nose.
Tricia walked up to the passenger side door and opened it. There was a punk kid with his face firmly glued to a game system in the front so she had to sit in the back while she waited for Nicole to get in.
“Where are we going,” Nicole asked when she pulled away.
“A couple years ago, he put his beach house in my name to avoid tax trouble. You guys wanna spend a few nights there?”
“I do.” The young man had been silently moving his thumbs on the controller the whole time. This was the first time he spoke up.
“I guess we could go. I got time off work. Did you get off, Jake?”
“Uh, yeah.” Jake clearly didn’t care whether he had it or not. He was definitely in his early 20s, but he was easy on the eyes, so Tricia didn’t mind having him around.
Chapter Three
The two women talked the entire four hour drive to the coast. They recounted every single story they had about Rick and how much he’d hurt them. They talked about their newfound freedom and their ability to finally live their lives.
