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Bad Dad

Page 15

by Sloane Howell


  A tiny gasp escaped her lips and she pressed her forehead to mine. “We don’t have time.”

  She was right. I had to get back home and take Logan to school. I couldn’t miss it. I needed the time with him, but fuck, I needed her too. My hand snaked into her hair and I kissed her the way I wanted to fuck her—slow and soft, then hard and fast. I thrust my cock up against her and her hips ground back into me in response. I hissed at the fact I couldn’t take her right then. “I know.”

  She pulled my head away from her and took my face in her hands. “I want you so damn bad.”

  “I want you too. I fucking need you.”

  “I don’t just mean that.” She glanced down at the throbbing tent in my pants. “I mean I want you. Want to be with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I stared into her blue eyes and wanted to believe her. Had to believe her. She already knew too much. We both stood, and I kissed her again. It was a new kind of hell each time she disappeared behind her door.

  I DROPPED LOGAN OFF AT school. We hugged and said goodbyes and I love yous. The usual. I missed him as soon as he disappeared through the door. I missed Cora already too. They would be my motivation. Anytime things got tough I’d think of them, safe with me. No threats. No looking over our shoulders. It was all I had, and it would have to be enough. Had to be.

  I drove back to the house and got out of the car.

  “Get back in, asshole. Time to train.” Joe had a shit-eating grin plastered to his face and still wore his ridiculous sunglasses.

  I pictured him buying them at the airport after seeing Terminator on the flight next to Edmon. I laughed to myself. It had to be like taking a full-grown killing machine with the social skills of a toddler on a twenty-hour plane ride. That made me smile. Anything that irritated Edmon made me happy.

  “Where we going?”

  He scoffed. “Just told you. To train.”

  It was nine a.m. and we drove through town.

  “Pull in here.”

  It was The Hammerhouse parking lot.

  The last time I was in there I destroyed the place. Hastings’ car was parked in front this time too. What a surprise. Apparently, he got drunk anytime his kid wasn’t around. Father of the year.

  “Bad idea.”

  “I need a drink.”

  He probably didn’t even know what alcohol was outside of the formula for ethanol.

  “Why?”

  He grinned and shook his head deliberately while he spoke. His eyes nearly popped out of his head in a hammy psychopath sort of way. “I’m thirsty.”

  “Fine.” I took a deep breath and opened the car door.

  We walked inside. The bartender definitely remembered the last time I was there, and now there were two of me. Hastings sat at the end of the bar on the same stool as last time. The same two bikers were over in the corner, but they had three additional friends with them.

  Hastings stood up and grinned.

  He strode over to me and smirked. Looked me up and down in disgust. “Someone escaped from the zoo.” He said it loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “What’s a zoo?” Joe asked.

  I shouldered past Hastings and knocked him to the side like he didn’t exist. We sat down at the bar. I ordered milk. Joe ordered water.

  “What the hell are we doing here?” I’d asked it a few times. It was small talk.

  Joe looked at me like I was an idiot and deadpanned his delivery. “Training.”

  The bikers all glared and snickered among themselves. I gauged their pulses and took in the surrounding information. Forty-two chairs. Eight pub tables. Ten pool cues. Sixteen billiard balls counting the cue ball. My natural instincts were coming back, slowly.

  Joe leaned back and stared at Hastings who had just sat back down. He looked thin and tired. The guy couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and seventy pounds.

  “Hey, fat boy. I asked what a zoo was.” Joe turned away from Hastings and grinned at me.

  I hadn’t seen whatever movie he was mimicking. But anything that pissed Hastings off made me smile. Hastings’ mouth dropped open. It was an odd question Joe had asked and Hastings certainly wasn’t fat.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Insulting him.”

  “Saw it in a movie?”

  Joe nodded. “Get ready to fight again.”

  “Again? How do you know about the last time?”

  “We know everything.”

  It all clicked at once. Last time was a set up. Hell, the whole confrontation at the school might’ve been a set up. I was back to being graded, evaluated. They wanted to see how much I’d diminished or improved. A computer was probably assessing me halfway around the world with an algorithm.

  I felt sick to my stomach all at once. Was Hastings even a bad guy? Had they forced him to do everything? Mind games. Edmon was a master of them. “Are they being paid?”

  Joe nodded. “Very well.”

  “What’s your problem, dickhead?” Hastings stood and glared at Joe’s back.

  We ignored him. Hastings must’ve felt safe. Promised he’d receive some kind of protection, most likely. He didn’t know the people he was dealing with—he was pretty much expendable to them. That’s why all the taunting. Why he hadn’t backed down.

  “Did they tell him to harass Cora? Touch her inappropriately?”

  Joe shook his head, lifted his glasses so I could see his eyes, and smiled. “He took liberties.”

  My face heated up. Hastings had put his hands on what was mine. He was about to find out what a grave mistake he’d made. Joe stood and walked back toward the wall by the jukebox. He couldn’t figure out how to make it work.

  “You need money.”

  Joe beat a fist on the machine and it lit up. The opening to Whole Lotta Love blared through the speakers. Joe attempted to nod his head in time with the guitar. “It’s showtime.” He delivered the line just like Jim Carrey from The Mask. Great. I was hiding the Tarantino movies from him when we got back.

  “They’re armed this time.” Joe’s laugh echoed through the bar.

  I heard the safety snick on a Glock 21 behind me. Glocks didn’t have normal safeties. It was built into the trigger. One of the bikers held it up. I heard everything.

  I planted my foot and dove across the ground just as he fired. The blast sent the bartender running to the back. The bullet sliced overhead and buried itself in the far wall.

  Joe couldn’t stop laughing as he stared around at the sudden chaos. “They get paid double if they kill you.”

  I slid feet-first along the floor like a baseball player stealing second and then sprang to my feet. I ducked down and zig-zagged through the room, lightning-bolt style. The more planes you moved across the harder you were to hit, though I was a large target. Horizontal. Vertical. Varying speeds. All of them are your friend when someone has a gun aimed at you.

  The place was small. Not a lot of room out in the open. That’s not good when everyone has a pistol but you. Fifty yards away and I’d have laughed at the guy.

  I rolled across the floor and snagged a chair with my right hand on the way up. The guy with the Glock raised it up to point at me right as the chair smashed across his face and splintered into a hundred pieces in the air. Wooden fragments rained down and rattled on the floor all around us.

  “You can’t kill them. I should’ve mentioned that.” Joe danced with his shades on while we tore the place apart.

  I spun out of the way in case one of the other guys got off a shot before they’d been hit. I used the momentum of my turn to strike one of the other bikers. I bashed him in the shoulder so that I wouldn’t catch any vital organs and kill him. His joint exploded when my fist connected. He’d definitely need a new one, but he wouldn’t die.

  The other three drew their guns but it was too late. I struck one in the head hard enough to knock him out, but not enough to be fatal. Ten percent. I grabbed his gun before he’d hit the ground, stripped it and tossed the action and t
he clip separate directions in one smooth motion.

  I ducked behind the pool table when one of them aimed and fired a shot where I’d just been. I grabbed the wooden triangle rack from the table. Leaned out to the side and whipped it around like a frisbee. It caught him right in the face and obliterated his nose. He went down clutching a pool of bloody, busted cartilage.

  One left plus Hastings.

  I didn’t have time to see what Joe was doing, but I could hear him laughing by the wall.

  I glanced around and saw a chair within reach.

  I grabbed it and slung it out to the side of the table. The last biker fired two rounds into it. When he realized it was a decoy I was already soaring through the air right at him. I caught him with a flying clothesline and hammered him into the wall. Urine saturated his pant leg as he slid down to the floor, unconscious. His head slumped back against a hole in the drywall that was the shape of his legs.

  “Hate when they piss themselves,” Joe said from afar. He shook his head.

  Hastings took off running for the door, but Joe’s hand grabbed the handle. He wagged a finger at him while I stalked over.

  “What’s a zoo?”

  I made my way slowly over to Hastings. Let him think about things. “Still feeling powerful?” I swiped a chair out of my way and it shattered against the wall. I looked over at a few bullet holes. Hollow points for sure.

  Hastings shook so hard I wondered if he was having a seizure. His eyes flickered and danced around.

  I backed him up against the door. “Touch her again and I’ll kill you. If Edmon comes to you again, tell him no. You see me, my family, or Cora, you disappear. Got it?”

  “O-okay.” He nodded.

  Joe glared at him. “What’s a zoo?”

  “It-it-it’s a p-place to see an-an-animals.”

  “Oh.” Joe stared like it suddenly made sense.

  He let go of the door.

  I pushed it open. “Get the fuck out.”

  Hastings bolted for his car. Never looked back.

  Joe stared at me for a few moments. “You’re still weak.”

  I knew he was right, even though I wasn’t about to say it.

  “You’re faster than when I got here.” He stared. “Not fast enough though.”

  I heard the slide click or I’d have been done for. The gun went off and I felt the bullet pass less than an inch from my ear as I yanked my head out of the way.

  I whipped around to the smoking barrel and the bartender’s eyes that sat right behind it.

  Joe smacked me on the arm like we were playing a game of checkers. “Maybe you’re doing better than I thought.” He laughed.

  He pulled out a money clip with probably a thousand bucks in hundred-dollar bills. Tossed it at the bartender. “Close enough. We’re done here. Send invoices for the repairs.” We walked out of the place and back into the sunlight. Hastings was probably miles away already.

  Joe slapped me on the back. “Always be aware of everything.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Cora Chapman

  I WALKED DOWN THE HALLWAY on the way back from recess. Logan ran up beside me and pulled me to the side before we went through the door. He tugged at my shirt.

  I kneeled in front of him. “What’s up?”

  “Are you coming over after school?” he whispered. His face lit up.

  My head shot around to the rest of the hallway. It was one of the problems that ate me up inside, ever since Landon and I had started dating.

  I took both of his hands in mine, still unsure on how to approach the situation. Landon and I hadn’t discussed it and I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. “We’ll see,” I whispered back. “But Logan?”

  “Yes, Ms. Chapman?”

  “We need to try not to talk about me coming over at school. Until we can talk to your dad, okay?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” His face dropped to the floor.

  I tilted his chin up with my index finger. “You’re not in trouble. Let’s just talk to your dad later. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  He smiled. My face warmed. Something about making Logan smile. I couldn’t get enough of it. I think I saw a lot of myself in him. Maybe it’s why we’d bonded before I’d ever even met his dad. Landon was a wonderful father, but he was definitely strict. It was apparent by how well-behaved Logan was.

  I knew what it was like to have a strict father, although I’d never compare my own dad to Landon. It was night and day. Landon had legitimate reasons and always followed it up with nothing but unconditional love. My dad didn’t have that soft side to him to balance it all out, though it seemed like maybe he was trying more as he got older.

  Logan scampered into the classroom. I started to follow behind him.

  “Ms. Chapman?”

  I turned around to meet Principal Williams’ face. His secretary, Mrs. Heinz, was with him. He glanced to her. “Can you go watch her class for a few minutes while we have a word?”

  Mrs. Heinz nodded, and I followed Williams down to his office. “Everything okay?”

  He glanced around with a sour face. “Come into the office first.” He trailed behind me and shut the door.

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “Have a seat, Ms. Chapman.” His words were short and abrupt.

  It was like he grew a pair of balls when he spoke to women. I bit my tongue and picked my battles, but it was ridiculous.

  “Umm, okay.” I sat down.

  Williams followed suit and steepled his fingers after planting both elbows on his desk.

  What the hell is going on here?

  “You’re aware of complications that could arise from dating a parent of a student, right?”

  You knew this was coming.

  Do I lie? Deny it? What?

  “Yes, I could see how there could be issues with that. Why?”

  “There’s nothing in our handbook that addresses it, per se. But…” His words trailed off.

  “But what?”

  He sighed. “I’ve had a complaint that you’re dating the parent of a student.”

  “Really? And who am I dating?” My face burned hot. I knew it had to be Hastings. The man caused nothing but problems. Some people were never happy unless everyone else was miserable.

  “Ms. Chapman, let’s just cut the whole act, okay?”

  My hand gripped an arm of the chair. My jaw flexed. I didn’t want to cause problems. If Williams knew, then Hastings had probably told the entire town. I didn’t know how long I could hold back. They couldn’t fire me for it. What they could do was document every little thing I did and manufacture some reason to, though.

  “It’s unprofessional and needs to stop.”

  That was enough for me. My mouth went to work before my brain could stop it. “Really? Where was this testicular fortitude when Mr. Hastings was swearing and threatening people in the hallway? After his son bullied and punched another student on the playground? Did you punish him? Did you punish him for sexually harassing me in my classroom?”

  His eyes widened, and he gulped. He schooled his features and his stare hardened. “You’re out of line, Ms. Chapman. Choose your words more carefully.”

  “I’ve chosen them very carefully. I’m a good teacher. I don’t complain. I’m not parading a relationship around. I treat my students fairly and I care about every single one of them. What I do on my own time is nobody’s business unless I’m breaking the law or school rules.”

  He stood up and glared out the window. One of his shoes tapped on the ground. Same ol’ Williams. The man avoided conflict like the plague.

  I glanced around at his bookshelf. Anything to keep my mind off strangling someone. The first book I saw was The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. I rolled my eyes and wondered if number one was kissing the ass of anyone who might cause you problems.

  His voice softened. “Look, I don’t like having to call you in here. And I know you’re a good teacher, as unorthodox as you may be. You always follow the rul
es.”

  “So why am I in here then?”

  He turned around and faced me. It seemed like he warred with himself over what to say. “Are we off the record? Can I trust you?”

  I nodded. “Of course. We go back a long ways.”

  He sat back down and wiped the sweat from his brow. “It’s coming from high places.”

  “You can say his name. Seriously. I know Hastings’ wife is on the school board. And I know he has it out for me.” I shuddered at the thought of him. At the way his name fell from my tongue.

  Williams shook his head and waved my words off with a hand. “Yeah, Hastings is a nuisance. This came from administration, though. From the regional superintendent. Hastings isn’t even on their radar. He’s just a small-town wannabe bigshot.”

  “Seriously?” I glanced up at the ceiling.

  Principal Williams nodded. “Sorry, for coming off as rude or harsh. I just—we like you here. And I can’t afford to lose you, either. We don’t have the time and resources to train someone new if people at the top decide they want you gone. It’s not good all around.”

  “So, what do you want me to do?”

  He sunk into his chair, defeated. “I don’t know. You’re going to do your own thing. You always have. Even when you were a student.”

  I grinned. “I didn’t think you ever even noticed me.”

  “I notice everything, Cora.”

  First name basis, now? What does that mean?

  “And just, make sure you’re not showing any kind of favoritism to the Lane boy. No extra attention.”

  I nodded, reluctantly. What I didn’t enjoy was the discussion I’d need to have with Landon and Logan about this later.

  “I know that what you do on your free time is your business, but until the boy is in another class after the end of the year—you’ll be walking on eggshells. Off the record, I would suggest suspending your romantic relationship until that time, but I can’t control your personal life. That’s just unsolicited personal advice. I would do my best to stick up for you, but—”

  “You’d have to save your own ass.”

 

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