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

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Tarnished Vow: A Student Teacher Forbidden Dark Romance (Boys of St. Augustine Book 2) Page 11

by R Holmes


  Her frown deepens and now she just looks pissed instead of annoyed.

  "Wrong. Hamlet."

  Damnit, I'm already fucking this up.

  She gathers her books and rises, pushing the chair back, causing it to scrape noisily against the hardwood floor.

  "Wait," I reach out, grabbing her hand to stop her and she yanks it from my grasp.

  "I said no touching." Her voice is icy and full of anger.

  "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to fuck this up. It's just, I… I can't focus, I don't know what's going on. I appreciate you helping Pres, seriously."

  Her face softens ever so slightly, "Ms. Ambrose." She's chastising me but I feel no conviction in her words.

  "Right."

  Instead of sitting back down, she rubs her head exasperatedly like she's trying to chase away an ache. "Can we try this again in a few days? We're obviously not getting a lot done and my head is hurting."

  "Sure." I stand from the chair, closing the book in front of me and tucking it under my arm.

  Outside, thunder rumbles and shakes, the rain hitting the side of the building sideways.

  "Damn, I didn't even realize it was raining. It's really coming down."

  Her eyes flick to the window, and she sucks that plump bottom lip into her mouth, causing my dick to stir to life once more.

  This is why I can't focus. I don't understand the relentless attraction I have to her. While I'm watching the rain pour furiously she's gathered her things, and is ready to walk out of the door.

  "Let me walk you to your car, I think the light is out in the parking lot and it's pitch black with the storm."

  She shakes her head, "No, it's okay. I'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow in class."

  So fucking stubborn.

  "Don't make it a big deal, just let me walk you out."

  She bites her lip as she mulls over my offer, then reluctantly agrees. "Okay. Thanks."

  When she brushes past me out of the classroom I catch another whiff of her perfume and I'm convinced this is definitely punishment from the big man upstairs for some missed confessionals or something.

  I groan inwardly then roll my head on my shoulders to relieve some of the tension then follow behind her. We walk side by side in silence until we exit the double doors leading outside. The wind whistles as it kicks, and in the process it almost knocks her clear over.

  "Shit, you okay?" I reach my hand out to steady her but think twice about touching her. She's set on no contact between the two of us.

  "Yeah, thanks," she says quietly, clutching her bag against her body.

  I am not fucking looking forward to getting soaking ass wet running back to my dorm.

  "On three?"

  She nods, and sucks in a deep breath.

  "One, two, thr—" Before I can even finish, she takes off across the parking lot to her car, the rain soaking her completely to the bone, her clothes are stuck to her like a second skin, showing every curve and dip in her body.

  Fuck.

  We make it to her car and she's fumbling with the keys to get it unlocked in the onslaught when I realize her tire's completely flat. It's all the way to the rim.

  "Presley, you're tire’s flat as shit." I tell her, trying to see but the rain is coming sideways making it impossible to hardly see two feet in front of us.

  "What?"

  Squatting down to inspect the tire, I see that it's got a clear puncture. Almost like someone stuck a knife straight through it. The fuck? Alarm bells go off in my head. Who the fuck would slash her tire?

  "Yeah, uh, looks like you must have hit a big ass nail or something."

  I'd never seen anyone turn white as a ghost until this moment, but she does right in front of me. All the color drains from her face, and she looks so panicked it stops me in my tracks.

  "You okay?" I ask.

  She nods, but her gaze never meets mine, instead it's glued to the tire. I don't want to scare her by telling her what I think actually might have happened to the tire. Hell, it's pouring fucking rain I could be wrong.

  We're both completely soaked, and I can see her starting to shiver from here.

  "Let's go, I'll give you a ride."

  She shakes her head. "N-no it-t's okay."

  "You're stubborn as hell, Presley you're fucking shivering, completely soaking wet. You can't stand out here, you'll get pneumonia."

  I can practically see the wheels turning in her head, and the rain continues to pound down on us both. I pull the key fob from my pocket, unlock my car, and nod towards it. "Just get in the car before we both end up with hypothermia, please."

  Thank fuck students and faculty share a parking lot, or we’d both be fucked right now. Not many students are local to St. Augustine, so the amount of people who have vehicles is small. Probably the first time I’ve ever been thankful for being a townie.

  Her reluctance is apparent, but she finally nods and we run over to my car and get inside.

  "Holy fuck," I breathe, resting my head against the back of the seat as water drips from me onto my leather interior.

  Presley says nothing next to me, but I can hear the chatter of her teeth, prompting me to start the car and crank the heat up as far as it'll go. Even looking like a drowned rat, she’s flawless. Her pale skin practically glows in the moonlight. She's ethereal. A fucking angel, even with her matted wet hair and mascara-stained cheeks.

  "Tha-nk yo-ou for givi-ng me a r-r-ide home," she stutters as she buckles her seat belt.

  "It's no big deal." I pull out of the parking lot and force myself to keep my eyes trained on the road. The rain is making it hard to see and I can't let myself get distracted, putting both our lives in danger.

  We ride in complete silence and for the first time since the night of the hospital, our silence isn't tense and uneasy. It's comfortable. I allow myself one quick glance at Presley and see she's curled into herself, leaning against the door, her eyes closed and a look of peacefulness I don't think I've ever seen on her. Her dark, thick lashes fan out over her cheeks that are flushed red even though she's freezing.

  I drag my eyes back to the road before we end up in a ditch or even worse she catches me looking at her. I don't allow myself another glance until I'm parked in her driveway. The storm rages on outside causing her to stir from dozing off.

  "Thank you again, I appreciate it, Sebastian," she says quietly, still averting her gaze from mine. I can't fucking stand that she won't look me in the eye.

  Is it because she'll feel the same thing I do when I look at her? This unexplainable pull. Like magnets, we're drawn together in a field of our own.

  "Yeah, no problem. Thanks for tonight."

  She nods, and grips the door handle before letting herself out. I watch as she runs to the front door then searches for her keys momentarily before letting herself inside and the door shuts behind her. I wait a few moments to make sure she's good, watching as the lights come on around the house as she walks through the cabin.

  I'm about to put the car in park when something falling causes me to pause.

  Boom! A deafening sound of wood splintering and cracking with force.

  The sound is so loud, and so close, it shakes my entire fucking car. Lightening must have struck a tree causing it to fall over somewhere near the house. Not even half a second later a blood curdling scream comes from Presley's cabin as the entire house goes black.

  Shit. The strike must’ve blown a transformer.

  I grip the door handle, wrenching it open then take off full speed towards the house. Thankfully, it seems like she didn't have time to bolt the three goddamn deadbolts she had or I wouldn't have even been able to get in.

  When I thrust the door open, Presley's in the fetal position on the floor of the living room, losing her fucking mind. She's sobbing so hard she can't breathe. I rush over to her, trying to pull her from the floor and she flinches, scrambling away from me until she hits the wall, knocking a picture to the wall.

  Holy fuck.

 
"Pres, it's me, it's Bash. What happened?" I yell, trying to get her attention but she's completely fucking out of it. She's having a full blown panic attack, like she's in shock or something. Fuck, I don’t know . Her eyes are unfocused, she’s almost disoriented and woozy.

  "Hey, hey, look at me." I squat down in front of her, trying to take her chin in my fingers and force her to focus on me.

  "Breathe, c'mon, it's Bash, breathe, Pres. You're okay. You're okay." I lower my voice, hoping to calm her with my words but they don't make the slightest difference. I swear to God the look of sheer panic on her face will be etched into my memory for the rest of my life. It's palpable, the fear eluding from her. She's fucking terrified and whatever it is, she's afraid for her life.

  Her body shakes with sobs, over and over and I'm feeling fucking helpless. Seeing her like this is terrifying, I don’t understand what's happening.

  "Presley, look at me."

  She shakes her head over and over until I can't imagine she won't be sick soon from a combination of the tears, and the shock.

  Fuck it.

  I scoop her into my arms and lift her shaking body off the floor and hold her tightly to my body. Feeling my way through the dark cabin, I head for the door I remember being the bathroom from the last time I was here. I can't see five damn feet in front of me, so I run into the coffee table and almost trip over some kind of damn cat tower on the way to the bathroom, but when I make it inside, I immediately pull the curtain back and turn the water on.

  The last thing I want to do is stick her under a stream of freezing ass water but I remember the one time I was the one in a state of shock, and no one could get through to me, Rhys threw my ass in the shower and the second the frigid water came in contact with my skin, it woke me from whatever trance I was in.

  I don't even think, I just step inside the shower with her in my arms, fully clothed and sit with her in my lap, under the water. It's fucking freezing, but it does the job intended when I hear her suck in a sharp, shallow breath of shock.

  Whatever fucked up trance she had zoned out in was broken by the onslaught of the freezing water.

  "You're okay, breathe, Pres." I mumble against her hair as she begins to sob. Deep sobs that cause her entire body to quake, and fuck each cry that leaves her lips cracks something inside of me. There are so many questions in my head that are unanswered.

  Who hurt her?

  I don't say a word after that. I simply hold her, as close to my body as I possibly can until her sobs begin to die and I feel her starting to shiver. Now, from the temperature and not the panic attack. I don't know how long we sit there, her clinging onto the sleeve of my hoodie, curled into a ball in my lap. Neither of us speaking, not acknowledging the enormity of what just happened. After a while, she crawls out of my lap onto the tiled floor next to me, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. I reach up and turn the water off then sit back on the floor with her. We're both completely drenched, but neither of us move to get up. We sit in a tense silence. My gaze never leaves her and she never lifts her eyes from the spot on the floor. She's completely still, only the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. The distance she put between us feels heavy and miles apart after what happened, but I can't reach out for her, I can't pull her back into my arms.

  "I'm sor-ry-" she whispers, her teeth chattering together with each shiver. The deep, green pools of her eyes meet mine, and tonight they seem bottomless. An ocean I want to drown in.

  My questions are on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it till I taste blood. I have to remind myself Presley's life isn't my concern. She made that shit clear; she drew the line and even after tonight, she wasn't giving me any part of her truth in exchange for any of mine.

  Wordlessly I pull myself off the tile, and grab a towel from the rack and hand it to her. The bathroom is still dark, and from the distance I've forced myself to put between us, I no longer can see her face, only hear the shallow breaths she takes still glued to the floor of the shower.

  "What was that Pres?" I ask her quietly; not even sure I'll get a response. The wound is raw, ripped open and jagged. She bared a part of her that she has obviously worked tirelessly to keep tucked away. It was painful, if not brutal to watch even for me. Now I'm sure she feels exposed and wide open and I know I'm the last person she wants to feel that way around.

  I don't know the right thing to say, fuck, I feel like no matter I say, it won't be enough.

  "I'm going to change." She rises from the floor and brushes past me into the bedroom. The way her cabin is laid out, everything is an open floor plan. No walls or doors except for the bathroom. I follow behind her through the door, and watch as she attempts to dry some of the excess water from her hair, but her hands are shaking so bad she can't stop.

  "Presley."

  I cross the living room, and put my hand on her arm to stop her. Her skin is so fucking cold, it's like ice. It distracts me from how cold I am, both of are freezing to the touch.

  "Goddamnit, Presley, stop. You're freezing, your whole body is like ice." I don't even ask, I just walk over to the old wooden dresser with broken knobs, and open the second drawer. I know her T-shirts are in this drawer from the last time I was in her cabin when I took her to the hospital. When I pull the drawer open I see something black on top of the stacks of shirts, but with the power out I can't see exactly what it is. For a second I'm worried it's a rat and if it was, I wouldn't be the last bit surprised, but it seems to be unmoving. I reach down to pick the object up and the cold, bitter bite of metal hits my skin and I realize what it is.

  What would Presley be doing with a gun hidden in a drawer?

  It's small, lightweight, compact. Everything a woman should have. A nine-millimeter if I had to guess, but with only the glow from the moon through the window of her cabin I can't tell for sure, only gauge by the feel of it in my hand.

  I turn back to face her, the gun in my hand. "What the fuck do you have a gun for Presley?"

  She goes completely rigid, barely even fucking breathing and I stalk over to her until I'm directly in front of her. I can’t imagine how fast her heart is pounding, if I had to guess it would match my own. Her pupils dilate, her chest heaves. This girl was holding more secrets than I imagined.

  "You gotta give me something. Something, fucking anything Presley." My eyes search hers until she tears her gaze away, dropping to the floor. It's so quiet around us, all you hear is the steady drip of the rain leaking into the pot somewhere in her cabin.

  "You think I don't see it? I fucking see you. Don't ask me why, don't ask me what about you pulls me in, but here we are. I see the way you flinch when I get too close, or reach out to hold the door open. You jump at the slightest sound. A fake name? A gun? Presley you just lost your mind when lightning struck that tree. Fuck, I can feel your fear. I could taste it on my goddamn tongue and feel it in the pit of my stomach."

  Her eyes dart to mine, filled with tears, but she doesn't speak, she just watches me, her arms folded across her body. She looks so broken, so small, I want to take her into my arms and forget what's right and what's wrong.

  Just for a goddamn second stop worrying about the grey area between us, or keeping my distance, or the attraction. I just want to shut it off, and do what feels right.

  "I see you, Presley." I step closer. "It's why you're in this piece of shit cabin, with a leaking roof and creaking floorboards. Can't rent something that has to have credit, right? You're on the run Presley, and I'm not leaving this damn house until you give me some answers."

  She lifts a shaking hand to her lips as she sucks in a deep, ragged breath. More tears fall against her already tear stained cheeks. "I can't… You just don't understand."

  "Yeah? Try me. I know whatever it is, you're scared out of your goddamn mind. I see you, Presley. I fucking held you for I don't even know how long while you fell apart in my arms tonight fucking drenched by the water that brought you out of it. Me. Stop pretending I'm not he
re. Who fucking cares what situation brought me here, because I'm here and I'm not walking away. "

  "I'm running for my life Sebastian. The second that I stop looking over my shoulder is the second I'm dead."

  Her words are like ice in my veins. The steady, slow strum of my heart slows, and rage takes over.

  "Who? Who are you running from?" I grit out through clenched teeth.

  I can't help the anger, the fury I'm feeling at the thought of someone putting their hands on her. My mind immediately flits to my mother, and the hell she's been enduring silently from my father.

  "You have to understand the things you have been threatening me with, the bullying, all of it… it is life or death for me. You think I want to be a liar? That everything I tell all of the people in my life are lies?" She pauses, swiping stray tears from her eyes. “I hate being a liar. I hate that every word that falls from my lips is a lie. I can't say anything else Sebastian, but please, it has to stop."

  Fuck, I'm an asshole.

  Now more than ever, I regret pushing her, for taunting her and using this shit to threaten her with.

  "Don't push me, or I'll be forced to run. Please," she whispers.

  I think about her leaving, and the same knot in my gut forms. I have more questions than answers but if I push too hard, she'll flee.

  Nodding, I gesture at the door. "Those locks are pointless if the door itself isn't worth a fuck. A guy half my size could break that down without even trying."

  Relief passes over her face that I've changed the subject.

  "It's on my to do list. I'm fixing things little by little."

  "There's a lot of shit around her that needs fixing, Pres, stuff that can't wait. The roof leaking, that floorboard over there is rotten. You step on it with too much weight, you're going through the bottom. The door. There looks like there might be a water leak, causing the floor to weaken. Probably doesn’t help that the house is older than shit."

  I point out the things as I go and she stares back at me with bewilderment.

  "How do you know about this stuff? They didn't have any handymen at the mansion?”

  My brow raises in surprise. Is Presley… talking shit? I’m surprised at the humor in her voice after earlier, but I see the relief in her expression that I've changed the subject.

 

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