Tarnished Vow: A Student Teacher Forbidden Dark Romance (Boys of St. Augustine Book 2)

by R Holmes

  "You need to go now, Presley, not an hour and a half from now when she finally finds someone to cover the class and makes her way over here. Just let me take you. I'll bring you in, and drop you off."

  I eye him warily. Why is he being nice to me? Only a couple of days ago he was in my classroom, two seconds from a temper tantrum of the paper he got back with the bright red mark of an F.

  While my eyes hold his, I can't help but let them drop and linger on his abs, and then I quickly catch myself and bring my gaze back to his. Only this time, the smirk on his face says nothing teasing about it. He caught me, and he knows that I know.

  "You can't drive me to the hospital shirtless," I tell him.

  He shrugs. "I mean... I could."

  My ankle begins to throb in tandem with my head. It truly does hurt more than I'm willing to let on, and I don't want to wait another hour for Sister Mary Margaret to get here, that is if she can.

  "There's a T-shirt in that drawer." I nod towards the old dresser in the corner. "Second drawer down. You can wear it, and you can just drop me off at the door. No need to come in."

  He nods walking over to the dresser. When he pulls out the first drawer, I almost come completely off of the bed in order to stop him.

  "That is not the second drawer!" I cry, as he pulls out a pair of red lace panties, and turns back with a grin.

  "Red’s def your color, Teach."

  "This is completely inappropriate. I said the second drawer." My brows furrow together in annoyance.

  This is a horrible idea. That much I know.

  "But did you say the second drawer? I distinctly remember you saying the first draw—" he starts, still holding the bright red scrap of lace in his hand.

  I grab the pillow from beside me and chuck it at him and he ducks with mock surprise. "Can you please, just put them down, and grab a shirt so we can leave? My ankle and now my head are both pounding." My teeth grit together doing nothing to help the steady strum of my headache.

  "Sorry," he says, not sounding the least bit sorry.

  I can count on more than one hand the number of ways this is inappropriate. He's a student. My stomach knots with tension as I think about the consequences of being caught alone, in my cabin with a student. I could lose my job, regardless of why he's here. No one would stop long enough to ask questions.

  "This is a horrible idea. You're a student, Sebastian, you shouldn't be here."

  He shuts the drawer as he grabs the black T-shirt I sometimes sleep in and pull it over his head, then saunters towards me.

  "Well teach, it looks like you're going to have to live on the wild side if you want to get that ankle looked at because from the way I'm looking at it, it's your only option." Without warning he bends down, and scoops me back into my arms.

  "Now, where's your car keys? What about a wallet or something?" He reminds me to grab them both. I point to the small table by the backdoor, that's literally on its last leg. When I grab the purse and keys, I hand them over to him and he carries me out to the car, and gently puts me inside. My body sags against the seat in relief. My body needs to rest and traveling from one place to another is putting stress on my already screwed ankle.

  I watch as Sebastian rounds the front of my car, then opens the door and folds his impossibly tall body into the front seat.

  "Holy shit, you're short as fuuuuck." He curses as he tries to find the right button on the side of the seat to push it backwards. Finally he does, and he flies back with a thud.

  Even through the pain, I bite back a laugh that threatens to escape. He looks so out of place, even with the seat pushed back he’s still got his knees to his chest in order to fit. Mental note that a two door Accord is not meant for guys well over six feet.

  We ride the entire way to the hospital in silence, except for the radio on low volume, something country that doesn't seem to fit him at all but the second he started the car he immediately changed the station without asking. Like it was the most natural thing in the world to be in my car, driving, changing the settings to something he liked.

  When we pull up at the entrance to the ER, he hurriedly gets out and comes around to my door, opening it, then picking me up once more.

  "Sebastian, you don't have to do this, a nurse will come here and get me."

  "Just stop, let me at least bring you inside. I need to park the car and give you your keys anyway. I'm going to call an Uber or one of my boys to get back to campus.”

  The pain radiating in my ankle puts a stop to the words ready to leave my mouth. I don't have the energy to fight with him.

  "Fine," I mutter.

  I feel his chest shake with silent laughter and I roll my eyes and watch as we enter the doors of the ER into the sterile hospital. A nurse immediately is at our side with a wheelchair, which he puts me in gingerly.

  The nurse glances down at my swollen ankle and winces, "Ouch, I know that hurts. What's your name? We can get you registered after we get you in triage. Get you some pain meds, how does that sound?"

  I nod. My heart begins to race. She wants my personal information with Sebastian standing right here. Before I have a chance to even figure out a lie to skate around saying anything in front of him, she speaks again.

  "Would you like your husband in the room with your or to wait here in the waiting area?"

  We immediately look at each other. His gaze meeting mine as we both begin to speak.

  "He's not my—"

  "We're not tog—"

  Our protests run together and the nurse looks between us both with her eyebrows raised.

  "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry for assuming, I just assumed you guys were together. You're so attentive." She smiles at Sebastian.

  I’m convinced this day couldn’t possibly get any worse. At all. Any worse.

  “No, he’s leaving.” I look over at him, eyebrows raised, waiting for him to protest.

  “We need to get you into triage if he’s not staying,” the nurse says quietly, obviously not wanting to interrupt the intense stare off between the two of us.

  “Could you give us a moment?” She leaves us both in silence. The air between us is thick, tangible. Uneasy.

  “Look Sebastian, I appreciate you bringing me here and taking care of me. I do. And I know that we had a tense uh…” I clear my throat, suddenly aware that this was much easier when I said it in my head, rehearsing it over and over on the ride here. “Conversation earlier. But this is entirely inappropriate. It cannot happen. Please know that I do appreciate it, honestly. You were kind to me when you didn’t have to be, but this is where it ends.”

  His face is set in a hard line, and each word I see his jaw clench tighter.

  “Really?”

  “I’m sorry, but I have to set clear expectations. I’m your teacher, and you’re a student. St. Augustine is the most prestigious school in the state, you have to understand that people have been hung for less. Thank you for your help.”

  The nurse walks back over to us, “Hi, they’re ready for you in triage.”

  I nod.

  “Goodbye, Sebastian.”

  She begins wheeling me back towards the double doors into triage.

  I don’t need to look back to know his gaze remains on me. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up from the intensity of it. I don’t know what it means, but I do know I need to stay away from Sebastian Pierce at all costs. Even more so now, that we’ve had this… moment that should have never happened.

  I would never pay the price that cost me my freedom again.

  5

  Sebastian

  Infuriating, stubborn, damn woman. It’s obvious that she doesn’t want my help and apparent she needs it.

  Pissed off, I flop down into the hard as concrete, uncomfortable ass chair in the ER waiting room, even though it’s two sizes too small for my six-foot four height. She obviously has no one to call and what kind of asshole would I be if I just left her waiting for someone to come get her. She could be there for hours.


  I mean yeah, I am an asshole, but I also want to make sure she’s okay even though I’ll never admit it out loud. The last thing I was expecting to stumble up on during my run is the teacher who makes me blood run hot in more ways than one. She was in a dirty heap on the ground, and I could spot the ankle from even ten feet away where I stopped. I didn’t actually plan to carry her over a mile back to her cabin or stick around to make sure she got to the hospital okay, it just kind of happened. What kinda man leaves a hurt woman alone in the forest?

  Then to fucking completely write me off like I was an annoyance to her.

  I grit my teeth together in frustration, my hands gripping onto the plastic of the waiting room chair with so much force my knuckles turn white.

  The registration nurses are talking at the station next to me, and I can’t help but overhear. I’m here because it’s the right thing to do. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. I have plenty of other shit I could be doing right now. Working out, sleeping, studying, drinking with my boys. But here I am like some fucking sap, sitting alone in a waiting room for someone who clearly doesn’t want me here.

  “Janice, we have an Xray on Ella Williams, room fourteen fifty six. She needs a full workup and five milliliters of morphine. Her ankle is looking pretty bad, the doctor is pretty sure it’s broken,” the tall, busty nurse who checked in Presley says to her coworker who inputs it into the computer.

  Wait, what? She’s obviously talking about Presley but why is she calling her Ella?

  My mind goes into overdrive trying to make sense of what I've just heard. Is she using a fake name? I think back to when we arrived and how she froze, nervous like almost when the nurse asked her for her personal information. It all begins to come together—why she's so closed off and hesitant.

  It's the only thing that makes sense.

  Presley Ambrose is not who she says she is.

  I mull over my options. She’s skittish, that much is obvious and if I bring it to her attention, she might withdraw even more. But… I could use this to my advantage. Presley, or hell, Ella, or whatever the hell her real name is, has the ability to fail me. She’d do it in a heartbeat, I know it. So what if there’s more to this fake name she’s using? A reason that she doesn’t want anyone else to know… A reason I can use as leverage. Then, once more the power is in my hands, and I have something I can use to my advantage.

  Fuck, I hate that my mind immediately goes there, but it's the truth, and if Presley is a liar then I feel less like a dickhole for thinking it.

  I’ve never pretended to be anything other than the asshole that I am.

  I lean my head back against the cold plastic and close my eyes, making a mental note to talk to Alec when I get home, and have him look into it and see what he can find. Maybe that's the key to this, finding her spot of weakness and making it mine.

  I must have dozed off because the next thing I know someone is trying to rouse me from sleep.

  “Sir? Sir.” I crack one eye open to see the same nurse from this morning standing over me, a small smile on her face.

  My eyes snap open, and I sit up. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I mutter, dragging my hand down my face, wiping the sleep away.

  “Oh, it’s okay. Listen, I just wanted to let you know that Ella is ready to go.”

  Once more she uses the name I overheard earlier.

  She pauses and nods towards the double doors. “I know you brought her in, so I wanted to give you a heads up that we will be wheeling her out any moment, you know in case you wanted to go get the car.”

  I nod. But before I can even get up from the chair, the double doors open and she’s being wheeled out by another nurse. The second she sees me still sitting in the waiting room her face turns a deep shade of red.

  "Why are you still here?" she asks. Hell, I don’t know anymore. I feel a sense of responsibility to make sure she makes it home okay. Or maybe that's just what I'm telling myself.

  Out of every goddamn woman on the planet, my dick is hard up for my English teacher who's the furthest thing from available. I could have any girl at St. Augustine, no question, and he wants the one thing he's never going to have.

  Christ.

  "Didn't want you to have to hitch a ride with your ankle. Figured you wouldn’t be able to drive your car home."

  Her face softens ever so slightly, her mask slipping, but then as quickly as it fell it's back up.

  "Sebastian, I told yo—"

  "What did the doctor say? Is it broken?" I ask, taking the nurses position behind her and beginning to wheel her out of the waiting room. Her foot is in a boot that looks uncomfortable and awkward on her tiny frame, but I see no hint of a cast.

  "Bad sprain. He said to say off of it for the next week or so and take anti-inflammatory. Ice it and keep it elevated." Her hand shakes as she rubs it across her forehead.

  "What's wrong?"

  "It's the… I just… I'm not used to taking any type of medication like this, pain killers I mean, and I feel loopy. Disoriented."

  I can hear the slight drag in her words, like she has too many words coming out at once.

  "Presley, you need help. Stop being stubborn and just let me help, dammit."

  The wind whips outside around us, sending a chill down my spine. In the thin T-shirt I have on, it feels like I'm still out shirtless, except now I don't have the adrenaline pumping through my body. I push her to her car, and she hands me the keys and waits while I unlock it.

  The entire time I'm adjusting the wheelchair to make it easier for her to get out, she's eyeing me warily. I can feel the tension and hesitation radiating from her even though she hasn't said a word. Her hair is pulled back from her face in a tie that she didn't have before we left, showcasing the delicate, silky pale slope of her neck. Her skin is a darker shade of porcelain, always flushed. Or maybe it was just that way when I’m around. Her lips are pressed in a tight line, and I can tell she's still in pain even with the pain medicine.

  Shit, I don't know what the hell I'm doing. She's right. I should've gone to my dorm, and partied with the guys tonight, but here I am.

  "C'mon, let me help… I'll pick you up and put you in so you don’t put any unnecessary pressure on your foot."

  Her eyes, like the evergreen trees I run through every morning, shine back at me and she looks like she's getting ready to argue. I don't wait for her to argue, I simply lean down and scoop her up before she can even open her mouth. She squeals lightly but surprisingly doesn't fight back the way I expected her to.

  She's obviously stubborn as fuck and highly independent. A trait I shouldn’t like as much as I do.

  "Shit!" she cries when I barely miss her head putting her in the car. Partially because I'm fucking six four and this car is like a goddamn clown car. I have to bend down to the damn ground to even reach the seat.

  "Sorry." I give her an apologetic grin which she rolls her eyes to . I duck once more, grabbing the seat belt and extending it over her small frame which causes me to have to press myself against her body as I struggle with the damn belt locking each time I pull.

  I almost have it clicked when I realize how close we are in the small, tight proximity of her front seat. My face only inches from hers, a new level of intimate, entirely inappropriate but in this moment a heated look passes through her eyes. One that smolders, and fuck does it burn. Maybe it's the meds, offering a small piece of her that's inhibited and finally shows the truth instead of the lies she piles on top of each other. One of my hands holds the seat belt while the other rests on the seat dangerously close to her thigh. A thigh that my fingers yearn to touch. Her silky, smooth skin only inches away.

  I swallow thickly, not prepared for the unexpected tension that sits in the air. We're in the parking lot of a hospital, surrounded by people, cars, ambulances, anything you can think of to distract us both from the situation, but all I can see is her.

  The pout of her lip, the soft pant of her delicious breath against my lips. So close, y
et so far. Just another inch and I could brush my lips against hers. Feel the silky flesh of her lush lips against mine. I can smell the sweet, clean smell that radiates her. Slightly floral and fuck if it doesn’t make me lean in another centimeter.

  Another centimeter from doing what I’ve wanted to do since the very first day I stepped foot into her classroom.

  BEEP BEEP BEEP.

  A siren entirely too fucking close sounds suddenly, so loudly I jerk back by surprise and hit the back of my head against the roof of her car with a hard thud. The moment gone, vanished like it was only a hallucination not reality, the spell now broken.

  "Fuck," I curse, rubbing the place that I just bashed against the hard plastic of the handle.

  She beings to giggle, the sweetest fucking sound I think I've ever heard, distracting me from the pain radiating in the back of my head. Once she starts laughing, she can't stop. I quickly click the seat belt into place to move out of the way, all the while Presley's laughing so hard, she's got tears in her eyes.

  If she didn't sound so fucking cute, I'd be pissed and in pain. A deadly combination. I slam the door shut and jog around to the other side, tossing the ambulance driver an apologetic wave as I fold myself into her clown car. My knees are to my chest and I'm pretty sure I look like a damn idiot driving this thing with a petite, hyena riding in the front seat.

  "I'm sorr— it was—" she mumbles, still wiping away the tears of laughter from her eyes.

  I narrow my eyes at her and shake my head as we pull out of the parking lot and onto the street. She's finally quieted and is staring blankly out of the window. Nothing but trees and more trees as we leave the small city behind. St. Augustine is in the middle of nowhere . It was built so long ago that the city was almost nonexistent except for a few small buildings and as time passed , the city grew but St. Augustine stayed tucked away in the woods, unbothered and serene. Or maybe they just thought the further from civilization that they were, the less trouble kids could get into. But, if they knew anything they'd know that is the furthest thing from the truth.