Professor Cline: Redeemed (Professor #2)

by J. M. La Rocca

  I may not be able to do it now, but one day, John will get what’s coming to him. And Donicko? Him and his fucking Black Widow Empire will be burned to the ground.

  Twenty-three

  Mason

  My night consisted of alcohol, alcohol, and more alcohol. I knew I was self-medicating, but I didn’t give a fuck.

  I was numb, and that’s what I’d wanted.

  I didn’t want to feel. I needed time to process all the things that had been going on in my life. I’d shut the world out completely, all except one person.

  Luke.

  After I’d cut my thigh open, I knew I’d need to call him. I had no other choice. The cut continued to bleed, and I couldn’t stop it. I sat there staring at it, the pain coursing through my body. It wasn’t bleeding enough to end my life, but it was a significant amount. I waited to call until I couldn’t take the pain any longer.

  I wrapped my thigh with a towel, grinding my teeth together as I tied it into a knot. Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I grabbed the scotch and headed into my bedroom.

  I hobbled over and reached for the receiver on my side table before slowly lowering myself onto the bed.

  I didn’t want to call Luke. The thought of him coming over and seeing me like this again made me feel more shame than I’d felt before. But I had no choice. I either called him or I went to the hospital.

  I dialed his number and waited.

  “Yo, man, what’s up? You coming out tonight or what?”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m downtown. Where are you?”

  I bowed my head and bit my lips together as pain shot down my leg. I looked at the cut and knew it was bad. I knew I should go to the hospital, but I didn’t want any of this to be on record. I didn’t want anyone else to see my scars.

  “I need you to swing by. Soon.”

  I heard him sigh, and shame and guilt washed over me. I was pathetic. How did I let my life get this way? I couldn’t keep involving him; he’d eventually pull away from me, realizing how much of a burden I truly was.

  “Mason, you there?”

  I zoned out and didn’t realize he’d asked me a question.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “What’d you do, Mase? Is this like before?”

  I ran a hand down my face and let out a breath.

  “Looks worse. Not in the same spot. It’s on the front of my thigh.”

  “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. “You’ve got to stop doing this shit, man. I can’t keep coming to your rescue like this. More than likely, you’re going to need a real doctor, but I know you won’t fucking go.”

  I didn’t say a word because he was right. I had no right to put this on him. I was a shitty friend.

  “You’re right. Go back to your night. I’ll get it taken care of. “

  “Mase.” He sighed. “Shut the fuck up. I’m on my way.

  I lay there for an hour, drinking the scotch to the point of almost passing out when I finally heard the door open.

  “Fuck, Mason.” I heard him sigh as he entered my room.

  I slowly peeked open my eyes to see him standing there, brow furrowed with his kit in hand.

  He walked slower and set his bag on the bed beside me, then snatched the scotch out of my hand.

  “How much of this have you had?”

  I closed my eyes, unable to keep them open.

  “Enough,” I mumbled.

  “Good. Because this is bad, man. It’s going to leave one hell of a scar.”

  I scoffed and tilted my head to the side. Like I cared about another scar. It was just another reminder of how fucked-up I really was.

  I tilted my head to the side as Luke got to work. I could hear him talking, but nothing was registering. Memories of Sophia flowed through my mind, ones I’d forgotten about, and there was nothing I could do to stop them.

  I blacked out.

  ~*~

  Seventeen years old

  I’d woken up late on Sunday morning, completely messing up my morning routine. I usually always worked out, showered, then went downstairs to grab some breakfast and bring it down to Sophia. But this morning I’d overslept.

  I tried not to think about why I was so tired, but the guilt weighed heavy on my mind. I never understood how everything flowed so easily for me when I was doing it, but as soon as I had time to think about what I was doing, the guilt would always slide through.

  It didn’t help that I immediately thought of Sophia when I walked through the doors either, but she was my reason. I was ruining lives to save hers. She was what mattered.

  I’d asked myself on numerous occasions if it was worth my soul. Was it worth signing my life over to the devil? My answer was always the same.

  Yes.

  Heading downstairs, I looked to the right toward the hallway leading to John’s office and saw Donicko walking out of the door which led down to Sophia.

  “Hey!” I yelled, running the rest of the way down the stairs. “What the hell were you doing down there?”

  Donicko greeted me with a smile. “Good morning, Mason. It’s good to see you, too.”

  I frowned at him. “I didn’t say it was good to see you. Now tell me why you were down there.”

  He chuckled and placed his hands in his pockets. “Just checking on my merchandise, boy. No need to worry. She’s waiting for her breakfast.”

  That pissed me off. She wasn’t his damn merchandise.

  “She’s not yours, and she never will be.”

  “Then who’s is she, boy? Are you finally going to claim her as yours?” He laughed. “Because I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

  “I’m going to get her out of here one way or another.”

  “You can try, my boy, you can try. But you won’t get far.”

  He turned and walked off, and I let out a heavy sigh as I turned toward the back of the house to the kitchen.

  It’s the things he said that always made me wonder why I was doing what I was doing. Did I truly believe they would eventually let Sophia go? No, but deep down I’d hate myself more than I already did if I didn’t try.

  I entered the kitchen and walked to the island where my food was already laid out for me. Mrs. Stein knew what I grabbed every morning and tried to have it out for me before I came down. She never asked me why I took so much food.

  I placed the breakfast tray on the counter and piled on the strawberry Pop Tarts (Sophia’s favorite), my omelet that was on the hot plate, a glass of milk and one of orange juice, a banana, a bowl of strawberries, and yogurt. It was a lot of food, but I managed to carry it all the way down to Sophia without dropping a thing.

  I set the tray on the floor and knocked lightly before I entered the room. It was something I always did to let her know it was me who was entering. It wasn’t something I had to do, but I at least wanted her to have some type of privacy.

  “Good morning,” I stated as I entered the room, placing the tray on the small table on the far wall where we always had our breakfast.

  I heard the toilet flush, then the water run, before Sophia finally made an appearance.

  She looked toward me with a small smile then headed over to get her food. I knew something was wrong, but I was never sure how to ask her about it. I didn’t like being forceful with her, but sometimes it was the only way I could get things out of her.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” she stated as she grabbed her Pop Tarts and walked over to the bed to sit down.

  I looked her over to see if I was missing anything. She looked the same as she did the night before when I’d brought her dinner. Her hair was in a ponytail at the back of her neck, and she wore a white t-shirt (that I tried my best not to look through) and baggy sleep pants. Clothes I was able to bring down to her after three months of being in this hellhole.

  Then I noticed the skin around her neck was blotchy.

  I grabbed the glass of milk and walked over to the bed, setting the glass down on
the side table before I took a seat next to her.

  “If nothing happened, why is your neck red?”

  She lifted a hand to her neck and turned her body.

  “Probably because I’m hot.”

  She was lying. I didn’t understand why she always insisted on lying to me.

  “Sophia, just tell me, please. I saw Donicko walking out. What did he want? Did he do that to you?” I asked, holding down my anger as I pointed to her neck.

  She stared down at her hands, holding onto her unopened Pop Tart.

  “I’m never going to see my family again, am I?” she asked quietly.

  I let out a breath and sighed, looking away from her to collect my thoughts, because how do you answer something like that?

  “I promise you, Sophia,” I said, looking back at her. “One day, I will get you out of here.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek, and I hated the fucking sight. I didn’t know what to do or how to comfort her.

  “What did he say to you?” He had to have said something to trigger the thoughts of her family again. It had been a while since she’d brought them up.

  She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s talk about something else. What are your plans for the day?”

  I shook my head, annoyed, because this was a game for her. She knew I wouldn’t back down, but she’d try to change the subject anyway.

  “Sophia, just tell me what happened.”

  She snapped her head my way. “Why do you even want to know?” she asked angrily.

  “I just do. I’m not going to stop asking, so you might as well just let it out. We go through this all the time. I need to know.”

  And I did. It fueled my hatred. My need for revenge.

  She shrugged and tossed her food on the side table before pulling herself back on the bed to sit against the headboard.

  “What’s done is done. There’s nothing you can do about it, so just leave it be.”

  I furrowed my brow. “What’s done is done?” I questioned. “What exactly did he do?”

  I looked down at her neck again and leaned in close. The closer I got, the better I was able to see the marks. Rage grew in the pit of my stomach, and I wasn’t able to contain it.

  I flew off the bed and started pacing the room, gritting my teeth as I spoke my next words.

  “Did he choke you?”

  She brought her hand up to her throat and rubbed it while shaking her head.

  “Then why do you have welts the shape of fingers on your neck?”

  Tears rolled down her face again, and she wiped them away. “He didn’t come to me this morning,” she stated as she furrowed her brow and examined her hands. “He came in last night. He said you’d be out late and he wanted to chat.”

  I kept pacing as she talked, absorbing everything she was saying.

  “And?” I asked, looking her over.

  She looked up at me with a blank expression.

  “He said he was here to test out his merchandise. He didn’t do much talking.”

  I jolted back at her words and placed my hands on my hips as I stopped pacing. We stared at each other as the realization of what she was saying finally hit.

  All the rage that had built in my core exploded, and I couldn’t hold it in. I ran my fingers through my hair then turned toward the wall and punched a hole through the drywall, letting out a scream of frustration.

  I pulled my arm back and shook out my hand.

  “Mason!” she yelled as she ran to my side. “Please don’t. It’s not worth it.”

  I turned and looked at her to see the tears rolling down her face.

  This was who I’d become. I caused this. Wasn’t I doing the same thing to other women? Wasn’t I using and abusing them just like Donicko was Sophia?

  I spun away from her, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I needed to get myself together. This wasn’t about me. This was about her.

  Turning toward her, I grabbed her and pulled her in to my arms, wrapping them around her tightly.

  “I’m so sorry,” I breathed, holding back my own tears of frustration. “I promise I’ll get you out of here, Sophia. I’ll find a way. I won’t let him touch you again.”

  Twenty-four

  Mason

  Light penetrated through my lashes as I slowly opened my eyes. I quickly shut them, letting out a groan.

  "Good afternoon, sunshine."

  I turned my head to the side and squinted one eye open to see Luke sitting in a white chair on the far side of the room.

  I tried to speak, but my dry mouth wouldn't allow me to. I rubbed my eyes and moved to sit up when all of a sudden, pain shot through my leg and up to my hip. I groan and laid back down.

  "Take it easy, Mase."

  "What the fuck are you still doing here?"

  I figured he would have left after he sewed me up.

  "I might be a dick, but I'm not an asshole. I wasn't going to leave you like this. I may not be an actual doctor, but I do know a cut like that," he nodded toward my leg, "could cause an infection if not treated properly."

  He pulled on my arms, and I gritted my teeth as he helped me sit up.

  "You cut yourself good, Mase. I had to get the bleeding to stop, then clean out the splinters of glass you had in there. I don't carry the things necessary to make sure you don't get an infection, so I wanted to make sure you didn't spike a fever or something."

  I nodded, grateful to have him there.

  He picked up a glass of orange juice off the side table and the two tablets he had next to it. "Take these," he stated as he handed them both to me. "I don't have anything stronger than this, so you're going to have to deal with the pain."

  I took the juice and the pills from him and swallowed them down. I didn't mind the pain. That I could deal with.

  Luke sat on the bed and ran a hand down his face as he yawned.

  I cleared my throat. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

  He turned and looked at me with a shrug. "Just a little bit, but I'm fine. I called your staff and told them not to come in tomorrow, as well. I figured you didn't want them to see you like this."

  I nodded again in appreciation. "Thank you for coming last night."

  "Look, man, I told you before that I can't keep doing this. I'm telling you now that if you do this to yourself again, I'm not coming, and I mean it this time." He stood up from the bed and paced a little before turning toward me again. "I don't know what the hell happened, but you need to get help, man. If you need someone to go with you or find someone, then I'll do it. I just hate seeing you like this. That," he pointed, "isn't normal."

  I stared at the comforter and hated myself in that moment. I wasn't only fucking up my life; I was fucking up the lives of the people around me, too.

  I raised a hand in defeat. I knew he was right. I needed help, but I had things I needed to do before I did anything else. I'd spent so much time focused on other things beside myself that it seemed like I'd wasted most of my life.

  I knew I couldn't keep living this way. I needed to do something, but first, I needed to make a phone call.

  Twenty-five

  Emmalynn

  Monday morning rolled around and I couldn’t stop thinking about Mason. I’d spent all day Saturday and Sunday in a dreamland I didn’t want to leave.

  I’d met the girls for coffee Saturday morning and let everything out about how I felt for him. I’d never experienced it before, with anyone else, not even the beginning of the relationship with Tim. I couldn’t explain it to them. It was like something had always been missing and I never knew it, until I had it in my hands. It was something I didn’t want to ever let go.

  Waking in his arms then having to leave was torture. I’d wanted to call and cancel the coffee date, but I didn’t want to seem clingy. Everything was still so new and I didn’t want to scare him off, even though I didn’t think it was possible. I could tell by the way he looked at me that he had the same deep feelings
I had.

  The way he’d stared at me with adoration in the shower Friday night was enough to have me swooning for a week. I couldn’t have wiped the smile off my face if I’d tried, and the girls took definite notice.

  At that very moment, I was smiling.

  I was bummed that I didn’t hear from him on Sunday, but I was sure he was busy. He did have classes he had to get ready for, and I tried to busy myself with reading and catching up on all of my classes.

  Mel also informed me that Quinn was moving in with her boyfriend so I’d finally have my own room to sleep in. It was exciting news, although I was sad to see Quinn go. It’d be nice to share a space with just Mel and me again.

  “Good morning,” Brian greeted as he settled into his seat.

  “Morning,” I smiled.

  “How was your weekend?” he asked, starting to pull things out of his bag.

  “Mine was great.” Erotic, sexual, pleasing, and orgasmic were all the things running through my mind that I couldn’t say. “How was yours?”

  He sighed. “My parents had a get-together this weekend and tried to set me up with the daughter of a friend of theirs. It was disastrous.” He laughed.

  I giggled at his facial expression. “How so?”

  He quirked a brow. “She had a huge gap in her front teeth, she snorted when she laughed, and she had a lazy eye.”

  I practically guffawed.

  “I know that probably makes me seem judgmental. I wasn’t attracted to her at all, but I could tell she was into me. It was awkward. And my parents kept trying to find ways to get us alone.”

  “I don’t think you’re being judgmental. I’ve always believed that you need to have a physical attraction first. Maybe they noticed your lack of interest and they won’t do it again.”

  He scoffed. “That’s highly doubtful. They’re having another get-together this weekend. Which brings me to the question I wanted to ask you.”