Little Bird (Anna Series Book 2)

by Lee Alan

  At present, he was busy scribbling some of the principles he’d just described on the white board. She couldn’t resist watching his butt move under his tweed trousers, whilst he remained lost in his own enthusiasm. She contemplated getting her hands on those cute cakes later, and her cheeks reddened once more. Concentrate, you stupid woman. You’re here for a reason, and it’s not to daydream about Corey’s ass!

  Despite her fiancé’s current good mood and her own contentedness lately, she’d also noticed a change in the mood of her classmates. More than once, she’d seen curious glances in her direction accompanied by whispered comments. At first, she’d put these disconcerting observations down to her own sense of heightened paranoia, but the obvious scrutiny had continued until she’d concluded that their poorly–hidden secret was out, as well as, in all likelihood, every other juicy detail of her story. They were the same things she wanted to replace with something approaching a normal life. How long did you think that would last, kiddo, with your face all over the media? Ex– lover of a convicted serial killer and now betrothed to a billionaire.

  “Jesus, she’s humping that?” The familiar high–pitched voice of the class wise–ass interrupted her attempts to focus.

  Because the vindictive comment coincided with her own inner angst, she turned to look in the direction of the spotty, red–haired youth. With a sinking feeling, she realized he was staring straight at her, whilst a freckled blonde girl whispered in his ear.

  “No fucking way!” He exclaimed further. The blonde nodded in response, as if to say. “And I’m not even joking.”

  Anna felt a well of sadness, rather than anger. Of course, they’d discussed if it was the right thing for her re–join the class. It’d taken much persuasion on his part to convince the college administration team to allow the return of such an infamous figure. They’d expressed serious concerns about the effect it would have on her classmates. He’d gotten his way, in the end, but Anna suspected it’d more to do with Corey being a major donor to the institution than his powers of persuasion.

  “Jesus, she’s like the Black Widow, or somethin!” The spotty kid blurted. This time, he drew the attention of the entire class.

  Anna felt her cheeks burning. In response, the blonde gave an altogether unpleasant smirk. Her ginger conspirator had also noticed her discomfort and grinned. His brace–filled mouth opened for the follow up.

  “Shut up, you geeky little dweeb.” The insult came from an attractive, dark–haired woman in her mid–thirties, wearing a faded, chequered shirt. She tapped her pencil in annoyance, while glaring at the two teenagers. Anna didn’t recognize her and assumed she must be a newcomer.

  “Yeah, but…”

  “You know nothin’ bout nothin’, you irritating little shit,” the woman said with a dismissive tone. “Now shut your flappin’ trap.” Her accent sounded unusual—more mid–west than southern.

  The youth folded his arms in a childlike gesture and looked to the gossiping girl to back him up, but she’d already slunk away, seeming not to want a confrontation with the older woman. The other students nearby had suddenly become engrossed with the lesson again. Anna noted with annoyance that Corey seemed oblivious to the minor crisis unfolding in the room.

  The kid made a last attempt to gather support around him, before averting his gaze to the front of the class. Anna turned to the dark–haired newbie, and on an impulse, mouthed a silent thank you. The woman responded in kind with a warm, “You’re welcome.” She followed this up by pointing an imaginary pistol at the disruptive kid. Anna couldn’t help but laugh at the movement. Although extreme, it perfectly reflected her own sentiment toward the little creep.

  The rest of the lesson passed slowly, and Anna found herself unable to concentrate. In a state verging on panic, she brooded over what other rumors and lies must have been floating around campus.

  When Corey drew proceedings to a close, she had to stop her urge to hurry to him. To do so in front of the class would only encourage gossip. Instead, she chose to hang around the entrance to the auditorium, while feigning interest in the various posters along the hallway. Occasionally, she’d pop her head through the doorway, only to see Corey answering queries from her classmates. For a moment, she feared they were quizzing him on his personal life, but his relaxed manner soon made it clear that the conversation was about their studies. Bursting with impatience, she continued to wait.

  “Catchin’ up on the latest health and safety news?” The question came from behind her.

  Anna turned to find the woman who’d intervened on her behalf in the auditorium. A grey–eyed gaze regarded her with curiosity. Although not unattractive, they gave the newcomer an unusual, otherworldly look.

  “Is it that obvious I’m waiting?” she replied, deciding to be honest with the thoughtful stranger.

  “Just slightly.”

  Anna smiled, with the awkwardness of people greeting a potential friend for the first time. “Say, listen. Let me buy you a coffee.” Anna said on an impulse, not wishing to pass on the opportunity to thank the woman. “Trust me, you’d be doing me a favor.”

  A guarded smile greeted her offer. “Sure, why not? I never say no to free coffee.”

  While they strolled toward the cafeteria, her new acquaintance introduced herself as Claire. They were soon chatting in a way she found refreshingly natural—so much so that she almost forgot Corey wouldn’t have a clue where she’d gone, so she dropped him a quick text upon reaching the NASCAR–themed eatery in the college.

  Anna indulged in a large, full–milk latte. The stressful confrontation earlier made her in dire need of a pleasant distraction. Claire opted for a green tea.

  “Hey, if you think you’re gonna sip tea while I drink this monster, like a fat cow, you can think again!” she joked, guessing her new companion would be open to gentle ribbing. Claire laughed as she’d hoped, and then opted to change her order to coffee topped with whipped cream. “That’s more like it.” Anna approved.

  After watching the barista perform the usual juggling act with various frothing pipes and clinking cups, they settled down into one the racing car booths, sipping their naughty treats.

  “So, you’re new, right?” Anna asked after a moment of shared cream Heaven.

  “Yep. Moved from Wichita last month with my little monster. Fresh start.”

  “Wow, that’s a big move from Kansas for a family,” Anna commented, her mind already trying to read between the lines. “How old’s your kid?”

  “He’s five. Still a baby, really. Well, at least in my eyes,” Claire replied, taking a big scoop of creamy froth of the top of her drink with a straw and dropping it in her mouth. “So, is it true that you’re together? With Mr. Young, I mean.”

  Anna blushed at the other woman’s directness. “Do we make it so obvious?”

  “You guys can’t keep your eyes off each other.” Anna couldn’t help but sense a moment of distaste pass over Claire’s face as she spoke, before dismissing the feeling as her own paranoia.

  “Oh boy. I knew it would be a bad idea to come to class,” she sighed.

  Claire stared at her for a moment with that disconcerting gaze. Anna suspected this thoughtful woman knew more than she expressed. “Who gives a shit what those kids think? They have no right to judge,” she said, her tone clipped. Anna got the impression that she wanted to say more, but chose not to.

  “Thanks. It’s kind of you to say, but…”

  “No buts. He’s a pimply little twonk and doesn’t have the right.”

  Anna smiled. “Twonk? That’s new for me.” She felt an overwhelming need to find out exactly what rumors had circulated. It occurred to her that this frank woman could be the perfect person to ask. “How much do they know?” she asked, deciding to place a little more trust in her. At the back of her mind flickered the warnings from Corey’s security team. In truth, however, she was desperate for female company in her life.

  Claire pursed her lips, playing with the straw. �
�That you’re together, and that Corey isn’t just their teacher.”

  No wonder he’s Mr. Popular all of a sudden, Anna thought, immediately regretting the unkind sentiment. She no longer felt like drinking the coffee and pushed it away. The potential implications for his voluntary role at the college made her feel depressed.

  “Do they know what happened to me?”

  “Yes.” The abruptness of the reply didn’t leave any room for doubt.

  “What are they saying about… what happened?” Anna asked, unable to resist the temptation to lift each stone and see what crawled out.

  “Depends who you ask,” Claire’s answer was hesitant. Anna sensed that she was not the only one being wary about how forthcoming to be. “It’s just dumb gossip.” The other woman shrugged. “They’re kids.”

  “Please. I need to know.”

  Claire pondered for a time, stirring the sweet mixture in front of her, with unreadable grey eyes. “Like I said, they’re kids,” she said eventually. “A tragedy for you is a Facebook feed to them. The closest most of these little runts get to danger is getting tangled in their sheets. They don’t understand what it must feel like to be afraid every day, or the lengths a woman will go to protect her man.” The final point seemed deliberate.

  “I didn’t know what he did,” Anna said. “I swear it.”

  Claire didn’t react straight away, but continued to stir the contents of her cup. Anna began to wonder if she’d made a mistake by confiding in this straight–talking person. She half–expected Claire to rise and throw the contents of her cup across the table in disgust. Maybe she’ll throw in a few of the beauts you’ve been asking yourself lately, kiddo—the real humdingers. How could you not have known? Did you choose to ignore the signs? Even if you didn’t, what kind of a woman misses something so wrong with her man? Anna braced her hands against the table, ready to leave when the time came. Claire blinked and then wiped the corner of her eye. Are those tears?

  “I’ve been around men like that,” Claire said.

  Men like that?

  “Maybe not in the same way as you,” she continued, “but violent men—dangerous men.”

  “Oh,” Anna said in a half–whisper. “Is that why you moved to Phoenix?”

  Claire nodded, wiping away a forming tear again. She seemed pensive, now—lost in her own demons, for a second. Anna noticed how she fingered a small, silver crucifix around her neck with a quiet desperation. She wondered what this poor woman had endured. Across the woman’s slim features, she could see a similar guilt to her own.

  Just as she was about to offer Claire a comforting hand, Corey bounced around the corner with a cheesy grin on his handsome features. He looked energized, full of enthusiasm, and pretty much the opposite of what would be appropriate right then. Anna’s irritation grew. When he shot her a grin of recognition, she returned with a dark glare. He took the hint and suddenly became fascinated by the drinks dispenser.

  “Oh, well. Some of them are just dopey, rather than dangerous.” She said, trying to excuse her lover’s ill–timed entrance. Claire didn’t respond with anything approaching warmth, though. If anything, her grip on the silver religious trinket tightened.

  Wow. Some guy has really hurt this one, Anna reflected, regretting her poor attempt at humor. “Look, I know we’ve only just met, but I’d like to thank you properly for your help today.”

  “Hey, I ain’t after any charity here, lady. I meant every word I said, period.” Claire crossed her arms in a gesture of mild offense.

  “No. I don’t mean anything like that,” Anna assured her. “It’s just—I’m having such a bad time of it lately, and I could do with someone to have a few drinks with. What do you say?”

  Claire’s mood visibly changed and a tentative smile returned to her lips. “Sounds good,” she agreed. “I don’t know anyone in this town.”

  “Cool, it’s a date,” Anna said, pulling a notebook from her handbag and asking the other woman for her phone number. The smile Claire gave her looked strained, as she read out the digits. “Will call soon,” Anna said, pointing at the note with a gesture emphasising her intention. “Time to put lurkio out of his misery.”

  Resisting the temptation to plant a reassuring kiss on the other woman’s cheek, she strolled back toward the corridor with a sheepish–looking Corey at her heels.

  “Wasn’t it a great session today? Did you see how many questions I got at the end?” he asked, after catching up with her. “Gotta be a record.”

  “Corey…”

  “Who was that?” he asked. “Isn’t she one of the new starters?”

  “Why are you asking me? You’re supposed to be her teacher, right?” The curtness of her reply must have started to ring a few alarm bells, because he adopted a more careful tone.

  “Hey, honey. What’s wrong? Did I piss you off?” He placed a hand on her shoulder in a bid to slow down her march.

  She stopped and turned to him. The hurt expression on his face made it difficult to stay mad, but Anna felt determined to make her point, regardless. “Sometimes, you walk around in a world of your own, Corey! You big dope,” she said, half–heartedly slapping him on the shoulder. “Do you know that?”

  His expression turned to confusion. Anna became more exasperated than ever—particularly as she felt a strong twinge of guilt at how she was treating him. Knocking the natural exuberance out of Corey held no pleasure for her.

  A group of first year students passed, giving them curious glances. Anna stepped back and clutched her bag to her breast in a poor attempt to look casual. Great! We’re giving them more to talk about! After the group had passed out through the aircraft hangar–themed doors, the couple resumed their tiff. Corey spread his arms wide in the universal sign for “what the fuck did I do?”

  “Corey, didn’t you notice all the whispering in class?” she asked, doing her best to restrain her frustration.

  “About what?”

  “About us, you dip shit!” she said between clenched teeth.

  “Oh.” Finally, the penny had dropped.

  “They know everything,” she said. “About us, about you, about what happened. Everything.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Anna clutched the bag tighter still. “You asked me who that complete stranger was in the cafeteria.”

  “Yes.”

  “She defended me against that little ginger asshole.” Her voice rose, “A stranger stuck up for us while you were playing teacher.” Immediately she regretted the harshness of her tone. Worse, the color rising in Corey’s neck showed that this particular barb had hit its mark.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He looked crestfallen.

  She placed a reassuring hand against his shoulder. “I shouldn’t take it out on you,” she said, her anger draining. “I’m upset because it means we can’t be together here.”

  Corey grasped the hand she’d offered. “Why should it change anything?” he asked. “We knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m amazed we got away with it for this long.”

  “Yes, but it means I can’t stay here.”

  “Why?” His blue eyes were serious, determined.

  “Well, because…” she struggled to answer. “What if they keep…?”

  “What if they do? We’ve got as much right as anyone to be happy. Who cares what the gimpy little shit thinks?” he said with a serious expression. “Besides, you’ve never been forced to read his stories. They’re about as mature as holding a cream–eating contest in a strip bar. Trust me, he’s the worst kind of lonely dweeb.” His gaze became fierce. “You really want to give in to that? After everything you’ve been through?”

  He’s right, kiddo.

  She gripped his hand. An old saying of her father’s came to mind. “You’re right: fuck ’em.”

  “Amen to that, sister.”

  Chapter 7

  The tap dripped into the chrome bowl. At first, it was a quiet sound, but in the confined, dank air of the cell,
it’d grown louder and louder until it became a wall of sound in his mind. It totally blocked his access to the many wonderful memories that’d become his sole outlet of pleasure.

  The soft feel of clean–smelling hair as I squeeze.

  Drip.

  The blue panties.

  DRIP.

  The soft throat.

  D R I P.

  He threw the plastic tray of rancid food at the opposite wall, and the unidentifiable brown matter slapped against the black and white tiles with an audible thwack. He tried to laugh at the action, but couldn’t find any respite from the tortuous sensations surrounding him.

  One of the strip lights had begun to flicker a week ago. At first, it’d offered some welcome variety to the soul–sucking drip, but now they formed a double act straight from the bowels of Hell. The dripping tap felt like a worm burrowing through the soft flesh of his ear drum, while the flickering light became a switch between the over–bright cell and a darker world.

  “Drip, drip,” he repeated the sound, unable to remain silent any longer. That was mistake, old boy.

  Sure enough, a high–pierced screech rang out from his neighbor’s cell. He’d woken Teddy. “Is it time, Motha?” the older man called out his usual line.

  “Shut the fuck up, you fucking loon!” Tony couldn’t help but take the bait.

  The response was the same, as always. “You knows I done it for you, Motha. You knows that, don’t you?”

  “I’m not your pissed–riddled, scabby whore of a mother, you twisted freak!”

  “I done it for you, Motha.”

  Tony slunk onto the hard cot, forcing himself to stay calm. He’d become better at doing that, lately. The first month without booze had been torture, making his present situation seem like a stroll in the park. Going cold turkey had forced him to appreciate the value of patience.

  “Patience is a virtue, old boy,” he said.

  “Motha?” Teddy answered.

  In the early weeks, Tony had puzzled over why such a crazy fool would be kept in the max wing. That was, until he’d overheard the guards referring to the old goat as Uncle Teddy Bear. It turned out that he’d been notorious in the seventies for luring toddlers into his car with promises of a free teddy bear. The police were still finding body parts to this day.