Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Then he steps up toe-to-toe, not bothering to hide his anger. “Well? Why did you do it? What were you thinking, Carter?”
“They came at me. I swear,” I insist when he rolls his eyes. “I told them to walk away. It started in class. They were…”
Shit. It’s only now that I see I’m incriminating myself. Either I tell him why those pricks were messing with Elliana, and I’m the bad guy in the end, or I don’t, and I’m still the bad guy when he finds out by word of mouth about the pictures. I’ve basically backed myself into a corner there’s no way out from.
“They were what?” he snaps. “Explain yourself. Now.”
Pussy. Coward. “They were bullying Elliana. My stepsister. Ask anybody who was in Professor Hayworth’s class just now. I told them to stop, and she ran out because she was so upset. I followed her. They followed me.”
He doesn’t look convinced, eyeing me warily, but at least he backs up a step. “Can Elliana confirm this?”
Like she would, hating me the way she does. “She ran off before they came out, but I’m sure she would tell you the things they were saying to her in class. I only wanted them to stop. I guess they didn’t like me telling them off or something. I don’t know.”
“They attacked you outside the lecture hall?”
At least I can be honest about that. “I really did warn them not to do it.”
“Because you understand the way this looks, don’t you? What it means for the son of the chief of police to break another student’s jaw here on campus?” Eyeing my bloody fist, he jerks his head in the direction of an open door close to his desk. “My bathroom is that way. Wash your hands and face.”
Gladly. Anything to get away from his disapproving glare for a few seconds. There’s a welt coming up on my cheek, but that’s pretty much the worst of the damage either of them managed to hand me. I guess that will teach them a lesson about starting fights they can’t finish.
My satisfaction is short-lived, though, because Dad is in Thailand, living it up with his new wife, clueless to what’s going to happen. Richard’s going to have to tell him, especially if Dave ends up in the hospital with a broken jaw. Fuck, I didn’t hit him that hard, did I? It’s sort of a blur now. I wasn’t thinking, I was acting. I was letting go of the rage and frustration that had me locked up tight.
At least I’m feeling more clear-headed by the time the pink-tinged water runs down the drain. I was able to vent that anger before it rotted me from the inside.
But what’s the cost? Because my peace of mind sure as hell doesn’t last long. By the time I’m finished, Richard is on the phone at his desk, speaking quietly. Our eyes meet, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I burst into flames on the spot. “I understand. We’ll be waiting to hear your decision. In the meantime, let me assure you we’re dealing with things on our side.” After a few more endless moments, he hangs up, then leans back in his chair with his eyes closed. “His parents are going to press charges.”
I know what that means, and the thought makes my stomach churn. Pressing charges means a police report, which means Dad finding out about this. “Are you sure? Can you talk them out of it?”
“Carter. Are you serious?” He opens his eyes just wide enough to give me a bitter look. “Are you asking me to talk them out of reporting this attack to the police? A couple of angry, horrified parents who are now on their way to the hospital to meet up with their son? You think I would try to influence them for your sake?”
“I’m just saying. Maybe there’s a way—”
“You think you’re very grown-up,” he seethes, cutting me off like I wasn’t even speaking. “A lot like Tucker. You go and do something like you did just now, thinking you understand consequences—or disregarding them in the first place, because nothing can touch you. I hate to break it to you, but you should know better by now. You broke a student’s jaw. The policies behind that kind of violence are the same for you as they are for anyone else. The fact that I’m even sitting here with you, having this conversation, is more preferential treatment than you deserve. I’m already going against my principles.”
The truth behind his heavy, disappointed speech starts to sink in. I can’t avoid this. “Can we at least keep it quiet until Dad gets back?” I ask. “He’s still in Thailand for another week—they get back next weekend. Can we keep it quiet until then, so it doesn’t ruin their honeymoon?”