A Turn of the Screwed [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Tymber Dalton

  The men exchanged a glance before Keith met her gaze. “Can we talk about it and get back to you?”

  She forced herself to remain calm and shrugged. “Sure.” Hands and legs trembling, she returned to her bedroom and closed herself in.

  A bedroom she’d just offered to let her husband and his boyfriend have.

  Correction, his Master, Owner, and lover.

  She was just Scott’s wife, nothing special.

  Not anymore.

  She was watching TV—or, trying to watch but mostly stewing—when the knock on her door startled her. “Come in.”

  Scott gingerly opened the door, Keith right behind him. “Can we talk to you?”

  She used the remote to mute the TV. “Sure.”

  They walked in. “Did you really mean it?” Scott asked.

  “Of course I meant it. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

  The men exchanged a look. “This won’t be too uncomfortable for you?” Keith asked.

  “Not any more than it already is. At least if you’re here, you’re not out and I’m wondering what’s going on. Frankly, it’ll be easier on me. Extra set of hands around the house to help with chores. Or is that something a Master doesn’t do?” She regretted the snark as soon as it seeped from her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Keith said. “Yes, I’ll pull my weight around here. Monetarily and doing chores.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “Honey,” Scott started, “I don’t want—”

  “I’m a realist,” she said, interrupting him before he said something nice that would make her cry. “It only makes sense. I’m happy for both of you for what you’ve got. Eventually, we’ll get through this, I’ll be able to go my way and quit being the fifth wheel, and life goes on. It’s stupid for you two to be apart.”

  Keith tried.

  If he just. Wasn’t. So. Fucking. Hot.

  “Please don’t make this offer just because you think—”

  “I’m making the offer for my own reasons. We all might as well save the money, okay? End of story.”

  The men exchanged a glance. “If you’re sure,” Scott said.

  “I’m sure.” She unmuted the TV and, finally, they left, closing the door behind them.

  Curling up in a ball, she pulled one of the pillows against her and silently cried into it.

  * * * *

  Scott had to work an all-day shift the next day. She took that afternoon after getting home from work to move her things into the guest room and bathroom across the hall from it.

  It felt…weird.

  Yes, she’d grown used to weird sleeping patterns over the years, sometimes having him in bed with her, sometimes not.

  This was a different thing. This was more permanent.

  This hammered home the beginning of the end.

  No more sneaky middle-of-the-night interludes that she knew would only leave her more heartbroken later.

  Knowing he was only doing them for her, with Keith’s permission.

  She didn’t want to be a pity fuck. Especially not to her own goddamned husband.

  Still, her conscience remained clear, and that was something she could cling to and focus on throughout the process. She was being the bigger person. Maybe at the cost of her own happiness, but that didn’t matter.

  When she looked back on this interlude in her life later, she wanted to be able to do so with her head held high that she’d taken the high road, that she’d done what was right, even though it ripped her heart and soul out in the process.

  And she still couldn’t bring herself to take her wedding rings off. Not when she noticed Scott still wore his.

  No, it wasn’t her holding onto some irrational hope, but she wanted to maintain normalcy as long as possible. At least until the end of the school year. She had a room full of kids depending on her to be at her best, so she could help them be their best.

  And she couldn’t do that if she was falling apart at the seams.

  She opted to spend that night in the guest room, alone. She was already in there, with the door locked, when Scott returned home from work around eleven that night. Considering his shift ended at ten thirty, she knew he hadn’t stopped by Keith’s on the way home. Following his progress, she heard him walk through the darkened house and then open the bedroom door.

  His bedroom door, now.

  There was a moment’s hesitation, what sounded like him walking around, before he called out.

  “Noel?”

  “I’m in bed,” she called out, a pillow tightly clutched against her. “Good night, Scott.”

  “Why are you in there?”

  “It’s my room now. Good night.”

  She heard him try the locked doorknob, then knock. “Can we talk?”

  “Scott, I have to get up early for work tomorrow. Good night.”

  She pressed her face against the pillow, willing him away, praying he gave up.

  Finally, he said, “Good night.” Then she heard his bedroom door close behind him.

  Part of her wanted to race over to the door, throw it open, and follow him.

  Beg him not to leave her.

  And then there was logic-brain, which knew she needed to detox, like any other addiction. Go through the withdrawals, suffer through the process, and—hopefully—come out stronger on the other side for having gone through it.

  She closed her eyes and hoped for sleep.

  * * * *

  Keith moved in that weekend. Yes, the landlord did return his security deposit and was letting him out of the lease sooner than expected. He rented a storage unit and a truck, and anything they wouldn’t need or couldn’t use at the house went into storage.

  Noel made herself scarce for the move-in process after offering to help and them gently telling her no, that they didn’t expect her to do that. She and Eliza went out to see an early movie and window shop in the mall before grabbing dinner.

  “You sure you’re handling this all right?” Eliza asked her.

  “No, I’m not, but I’m handling it the only way I know how. That has to be good enough.”

  “Okay. I’m here to talk, if you need to. Or if it’s too intense and you want a place to stay for awhile, come to our place.”

  “Thanks. But when I move out, it needs to be into my own place. I’ll see how this goes. I might be fine after a few weeks of Keith living with us.”

  “No offense, but you’re right, he is a serious hunk of man.” Eliza had caught a good look at him when she arrived to pick up Noel.

  “I know, right?” Noel sat back in the booth. “It’s so not fair he found a cute guy.”

  “You’d prefer he had a troll? Really?” Eliza arched an eyebrow at her. “You’d be okay with your husband finding an ugly guy more attractive than you?”

  “Well, not when you put it like that.” No, she hadn’t thought about it like that, either.

  Still didn’t mean she didn’t envy Scott, at least a little, for finding Keith.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Noel secretly admitted having Keith living under the same roof wasn’t the worst thing. At least she knew where Scott was every night, and that he was safe. Keith seemed really into him, which while she felt jealous, also put her at ease.

  And Keith still deferred to her as Scott’s wife. Made sure Scott made time for her, too. Especially difficult sometimes considering Scott’s work schedule. Sometimes she saw more of Keith than she did Scott, but Keith always made sure to send Scott to her first.

  She really did want Scott to be happy. If Keith could make Scott happy, she’d do her damnedest to get along with the guy. It was the right thing to do, and while it left her feeling left out and empty in some ways, she knew she could still look at herself in the mirror every morning and know she wasn’t acting out of petty jealousy.

  It was Wednesday on the last week of school before summer break started. Noel and the other teachers would still be working a few
days after that, finalizing their paperwork in preparation for summer break. Noel was a little surprised when she got called into the principal’s office that afternoon once the students had left for the day.

  As soon as Noel walked through the Mary Scarthers’ door, her senses tingled. Whether it was the look on the woman’s face, or just a gut instinct, Noel knew this wouldn’t be good.

  “Close the door, please,” she told Noel.

  Noel did, dreading the short walk to one of the chairs in front of her desk.

  “I need to talk with you about one of your students, Stacy Moog.”

  Noel nearly groaned. “What now?”

  “Her mother, Barbara, has brought a troubling complaint to my attention.”

  “That woman has been trouble since last year. Ask Kennedy Charles. She taught Stacy. The kid has a learning disability that needs to be properly diagnosed.”

  “This isn’t about that.”

  “Then what?”

  Mary opened a file on her desk, removed a few printouts, and slid them across the desk toward Noel.

  Noel didn’t want to look at them, much less touch them. She finally took a deep breath and looked down.

  They were printouts of Scott’s Facebook page. Not the one where she was connected to him, but his other one, a second one he had used to connect with kinky friends. It wasn’t linked to her or his vanilla Facebook account.

  “What’s this?” Noel asked, feeling numb.

  “That’s what I’d like to know.”

  On it were a few exchanges between Keith and Scott, ones that weren’t explicit, but definitely weren’t innocent under any circumstances.

  There were also printouts of Keith’s profile page, and of the likes pages of both men, where they had liked various kinky and BDSM-related things. Including Venture, the BDSM club.

  And showing the fact that Keith had listed he was in a relationship with Scott, and that Scott had listed he was in a relationship with Keith.

  “Is this your husband’s profile?”

  “What difference does it make?” Mentally, Noel was cursing that both men hadn’t taken more precautions with their privacy. Then again, come to think of it, maybe she needed to go through and lock down her page.

  “It makes a difference when one of our parents comes in complaining about a teacher who apparently has a husband engaged in immoral acts.”

  Protective rage filled Noel. “For starters, my husband is not an immoral man, and what he does or doesn’t do isn’t anyone’s business but his and mine. It’s certainly not the business of some nosy parents who can’t stand the fact that their less-than-stellar homeschooling skills allowed their child to get behind and not get the help she needed sooner. Talk about deflecting blame.”

  “That may be the case, but I did some digging. I know that what your husband does in his personal time isn’t a problem for him with his job at the county. Unfortunately, you work with children.”

  “What are you saying, exactly?”

  “Your contract is up for renewal this year. If you walk away, this incident will never appear on your record. You will have an unblemished personnel record, and you will receive nothing but the highest references from myself and the school board. If you force me to take this to human resources to look into it, unfortunately, I will have to. The mother has threatened to file a complaint and said if her daughter passes and you are no longer teaching, she’ll drop it.”

  White-hot rage filled Noel. “I’m being blackmailed, is what you’re saying?”

  “You’ve been here ten years. You’re a good teacher. You could get a better job at a private or charter school. You know you could. Please, I don’t want to have to do this. Yes, you will likely be cleared, but do you really want that cloud hanging over you in the future? Who knows what kind of press coverage the woman will drum up in her attempt to ruin you.”

  The rage turned into tremors, of hatred, fear, and most of all, disgust.

  No, her husband wasn’t perfect. But he—and Keith—were good men. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but they weren’t hurting anyone.

  “What do I have to do?” Noel quietly asked.

  “Just give me a letter of resignation. State family circumstances, if you wish.”

  Noel nodded toward the papers. “And those?”

  Mary stood, picked them up, turned, and ran them through a shredder behind her desk.

  “How do I know she won’t try this again?” Noel asked.

  “Because I told her if this wasn’t the end of it, if I got word of her coming after you, I would make sure I made her life a living hell. She works for the same bank where my husband is a vice president. There’s a little quid pro quo going on.”

  Noel took a deep breath and slowly let it out, not even sure if she was steady enough to stand yet. “How soon do you need my resignation?”

  “By the end of the week, please. You can finish out as normal, of course. Give the child a passing grade, and next year, she’s another school’s problem.”

  “And the child suffers as a result, because she’s not getting the help she really needs.”

  “I hate to sound so cynical, but it’s not going to be my problem. I don’t want her mother to ruin your life. In fact, I will call around to some friends of mine locally to see what openings might be available and get that information to you. I will also, of course, be writing you a glowing recommendation should you choose to apply.”

  That didn’t exactly take the sting out of the situation, or even make it more bearable. “Thank you,” Noel said more out of habit than true gratitude.

  “You’re welcome. I’m sorry this had to happen.”

  “Yeah,” Noel said. “So am I.”

  * * * *

  It took every ounce of strength Noel could muster not to break down crying as she left the office. She stopped by the teacher’s lounge and locked herself in the bathroom there to take a few minutes to pull herself together.

  Finally, after she returned to her classroom, she stared around and realized it wasn’t just the start of summer break—it was the end of her career.

  And, in some small ways, it was a blessing.

  Honestly, she’d started reaching a burnout phase. No, this wasn’t how she wanted to leave teaching, obviously.

  Where before it had been a slowly growing future desire, a flimsy daydream, it was now a harsh reality forcibly thrust upon her. A metaphorical burning of her ships to start the next phase of her life.

  First Scott meeting Keith, and now this.

  Maybe someone is trying to tell me something.

  How many times had she idly wondered about what else she could do for a career? She actually enjoyed accounting. She could always get certified for that. She’d thought about going into it originally, but settled on teaching both because she’d idealistically wanted to make a difference, and as a thinly veiled metaphorical fuck-you to her family.

  Now…

  Maybe accounting wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  Yes, she’d finish out the last few days of the year, but now packing up her room and belongings there would be different. Maybe Mary had meant it when she said she’d gather a list of leads for Noel.

  In the end it wouldn’t matter, because Noel wouldn’t follow up on the leads, most likely.

  With Keith living there, their bills were easily being paid. She could go back to school.

  She made it home first and shoved a banker’s box of stuff against the wall in the dining room. The first of several boxes of stuff she’d be bringing home. Eventually she’d bury them somewhere in the garage, out of sight, out of mind.

  Likely never to use again, and to one day be thrown away, but at least she’d still have it if she did make a turnaround and get another teaching job after all.

  Going over to the fridge, she pulled out a beer, popped the cap, and drained half of it while standing right there.

  Fuck it.

  * * * *

  Keith knew the second he wa
lked in the door there was a problem. He wasn’t a woo-woo psychic kind of guy, but the air in the house felt wrong.

  Noel was seated on the couch, TV on, a dark expression clouding her face.

  “You okay?” he finally asked after waffling in his mind about a thousand times at light speed on whether or not to ask.

  “No.” She didn’t bother looking at him. “Some bitch threatened to get me fired, so I quit. Sorry, not fired. My contract was up for renewal and I was told it would be better for me to walk away from it.”

  “What?” He walked around the couch to sit at the end. “Talk to me.”

  She finally swiveled her head to glare at him. “She had copies of Scott’s Facebook page, the other one, and yours. And where it lists that you two are in a relationship. Oh, and your likes pages, where you have a bunch of kinky shit checked.” She took a swallow of beer.

  He winced. “Son of a bitch. I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, so am I. Now I need to find another job.” She let out an angry-sounding snort. “Just one more crappy thing to happen. If my life was a novel, it’d be called A Turn of the Screwed, because that’s what it feels like. I’m screwed no matter where I turn. And not in the good way.”

  He let her snark pass without fazing him, knowing she was in a lot of emotional pain. “Why did the woman do that?”

  “Because she’s a fucking cuntnugget. That’s why. The principal told me if I resigned without a fight, I’d get a ‘glowing recommendation’.” She took a long, hard swallow from the bottle of beer in her hand.

  Noel wasn’t a heavy drinker, but Keith knew that adding alcohol to an emotionally volatile situation wasn’t a good combination.

  Especially not right now.

  “Can you get another job teaching?”

  “Oh, sure. Probably. Mary Scarthers, the principal, she said she’s going to call around to people she knows.” Another long swallow. “But what difference does it make? Ten years in, my marriage is over, and my career is over. It’s like the universe isn’t happy with knocking me down, it wants to keep kicking me while I’m on the ground, just for shits and giggles.”