Nathan didn’t say anything, but his cheeks colored.
“I was very proud of you, son.” He waited for Nathan to meet his gaze. “You stood up to them, even though they were mad enough to beat the crap out of you for it.”
Nathan actually smiled. “They were getting ready to.”
“Why did you do it, Nathan?” Rand asked gently. “Was it because of your work in the special ed lab?” Rand didn’t believe there’d been enough time for it to have turned the boy around this completely.
Nathan went back to staring at his hands, and Rand got it. The boy was ashamed. He didn’t want to admit what he’d done, but he’d tried to make up for it in that restroom.
“You didn’t push Wally down the gymnasium steps, did you.” He didn’t emphasize it as a question.
Nathan shook his head slowly.
“Did you see who did?”
Nathan shook his head again.
He was asking the boy to rat out his pals, but Rand needed to know. “You saw today that it can become serious very easily, Nathan. One of these times, someone could really get hurt.”
He let the room sit in silence while Nathan thought.
Finally, the boy spoke. “I didn’t see. Tom and Rick were there, and three or four of the other guys.” He shrugged. “Then Wally was just falling.”
“You don’t think he was pushed?”
Again, silence. And again, Nathan finally answered. “He was pushed. Then they all ran away. I just don’t know which one of them did it.” He pressed his lips tightly together, and Rand suspected he might be fighting tears. “I should have told them to leave him alone then. But I just stood there.” He paused a long moment as if truly looking at himself and not liking what he saw. When he spoke again, his voice dropped almost to a whisper. “I always just stood there and let it happen without even trying to stop them.” He clenched his teeth a moment, then opened his mouth to drag in a deep breath as if he’d just bared his soul. “Sometimes, though, you just gotta draw a line and man up.”
Rand realized what it must have cost the boy to admit he hadn’t acted like a man until that moment in the boys’ room. “You stood up for him today, Nathan, and that’s what counts. The Wallys of the world need people like you.”
Nathan’s head swayed. “I did knock his tray out of his hands that day in the cafeteria.” He took another deep breath, held it, then exhaled in a long, painful sigh. “And I called him a stupid retard,” he said, his shame evident in the softness of those words.
Here’s what Rand had been waiting weeks to hear. He let Nathan tell it.
“It was just supposed to be giving other kids crap. Like who’s stronger or more popular, who’s top dog, all that stuff.” He sighed as if the weight of the world sat on his shoulders alone. “Then I started to see it was just about those kids.”
“The special ed kids?”
He nodded. “It stopped being fun a long time ago and started being just plain mean.”
“And you don’t want to be mean anymore, do you.”
Nathan raised his gaze to meet Rand’s, and somehow his spine seemed to get a little straighter in his seat. “No. I don’t. If that’s what it takes to be on their team, I don’t want to play.”
Holy hell. Rand wanted to cheer. He couldn’t have made up a better metaphor himself. “All it takes is awareness, Nathan. They aren’t those kids. They’re teenagers like anyone else, just with different needs.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “They’re special.”
Nathan stared at the carpet, then nodded slowly. “Wally’s actually capable of amazing things. I saw that in special ed.”
His words were enough to bring a tear to Rand’s eye. “Maybe we can help spread the word in small ways.”
Nathan shrugged again in typical teenage fashion.
Rising, Rand clapped him on the shoulder. “By the way, many autistics don’t like to be touched. That’s why I didn’t want you to help Wally up. It wasn’t you personally.”
“Really?” Nathan sounded hopeful.
He was a good kid. Rand had high hopes for him. “Really. Now, I’m going to need your help. Let me tell you my plan.”
Nathan listened, nodding eagerly.
This could work. As an added benefit, it solved all Rand’s problems with Rachel, too.
32
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU’RE TAKING AN EARLY LUNCH?” Yvonne’s brown eyes snapped with ire.
This was not working. Yvonne wouldn’t let her learn a thing, getting angry if she made a mistake, snatching the keyboard away. Rachel wasn’t sure what half the mistakes she supposedly made actually were.
All she wanted to do was get out. She’d stolen Gary’s key out of Justin’s backpack this morning before school, and she wanted to get over there before lunch just in case Gary came home for a quick nooner with his little floozy.
God, she was turning into a judgmental bitch. Not to mention useless at order entry.
“I have a doctor’s appointment.” Now she was lying, too. Whatever, couldn’t be helped, extenuating circumstances.
Yvonne merely huffed. “We’re never going to get this done if you keep running off when we’re right in the middle.”
They had months, for God’s sake. Rachel resisted rolling her eyes. If Yvonne stopped grabbing the keyboard every time Rachel made a teeny-tiny error, things would move a lot faster. “I’ll be back before one. We can start again.”
“I’ll have placed all the orders by then,” Yvonne grumbled.
Why was she being so difficult? Afraid Rachel would replace her, as Bree said? Whatever. “Perhaps you could leave me a couple of orders, and I’ll enter them on my own. You can check them when I’m done.” She could do it if Yvonne wasn’t hanging over her, hemming, hawing, making her nervous and prone to mistakes.
Yvonne flapped a hand. “Go. Go.” Then continued to mutter irritably to herself. “Silly girl,” et cetera, et cetera.
Rachel was beyond caring. She stopped in her office for her purse, then made it to Gary’s apartment complex much faster than usual, which meant she’d been speeding and could have gotten a ticket. Luckily, there weren’t any cops around.
Gary’s parking spot was empty, thank God. The development was huge, with apartments on three levels. Gary’s was on the third floor because he’d wanted the vaulted ceilings, skylights, and balcony. It was nice, and since she got the house, she couldn’t begrudge him a decent place to take the boys. Except right now when he was blackmailing her.
The front door opened into a small entry with a coat closet on one side. From there, you entered the living room, which had a sofa alcove. The room was bright with sun streaming through the skylights. To the right was the kitchen and eating nook and the hall back to the three bedrooms. The boys had their own bathroom, too.
She headed back to Gary’s room. His bed was neatly made, all his clothes hung up or put in the hamper. Sherry’s influence? God, she was still comparing. Get over it.
She stood in front of his bureau. Maybe he was as stupid as she was and had hidden the video card in the same place, the underwear drawer. She reached for it, a walnut bureau with three skinny drawers along the top for socks and underwear or lingerie.
She was here; she could search everywhere, find the video, save herself, save Rand. Yet now, when the moment was upon her, she couldn’t get her hand to move. She couldn’t touch that drawer.
What the hell was she doing? She’d lied to Yvonne about the doctor’s appointment, gone through her son’s backpack while he was getting ready for school, stolen his key, broken into her ex’s apartment. Lying, stealing. What was next, murder? It didn’t matter that she had a key, she didn’t have permission. This wasn’t like her; this was some other crazy woman. Gary had gone through her drawers, but was she as bad as him? No, she was better than that.
Rachel started backing out of the room as if she were afraid that something terrible would attack the moment she turned her back on the bureau. Or she’d change her mind a
nd ransack the place.
And wasn’t Gary a tiny bit right? Now she could have Rand. She wouldn’t have to tell him she’d lost the video. He’d never have to know. He wouldn’t get angry with her. They were safe.
She turned around only after she was out in the hall, the brightness of the freshly painted white almost blinding. Arms outstretched, both hands on the wall supporting her as she made her way back to the living room, she felt dizzy. Oh yes, she could have Rand. She could fuck him every night of the week. When she got horny, she could beg him to come over. They could play out all the rape fantasies they wanted.
All she had to do was give up her sons.
God, what had she been thinking when she let Rand make that video?
Maybe she could bargain with Gary. He could have the boys every weekend. She could take them during the week. Surely that would be enough to satisfy Sherry. Yes, yes, give and take.
But she’d still have to give up Rand. All of this had started when she’d let herself get carried away with him. She couldn’t make everything right if she didn’t put an end to it, if she didn’t stop doing all the things that had gotten her into trouble in the first place. She had to return to being the staid, vanilla woman she’d been two months ago before she’d ever met Rand.
She had to tell him it was over and really mean it.
Before she lost her courage.
RAND DIDN’T GO OUT TO LUNCH ON A REGULAR BASIS. HE PREFERRED having a sandwich at his desk, where he could take care of paperwork, and he often scheduled meetings during the lunch period, just as he had with Nathan earlier.
So he was pleased he was free when Miss Watson buzzed him and told him Mrs. Delaney was here. Perfect. Since he’d had Nathan in his office only half an hour before, there was nothing suspicious in his mother showing up.
He had visions of bending Rachel over the principal’s desk.
He loved a really hot, sexy fantasy in the middle of the day. He’d tell her about it, get her all worked up. They could replay it tonight on the phone.
The visions died the moment he saw her face. She was pale, dark circles beneath her eyes, the hazel color now muddy with her roiling emotions. It couldn’t be Nathan; everything was fine with Nathan, mission accomplished, except the last phase of his plan, which Rand would carry out this afternoon.
“Mrs. Delaney,” he said for benefit of Miss Watson, “please, sit down.” He leaned out the door. “Hold my calls.” After receiving a thumbs-up, he shut himself in with Rachel.
She collapsed into the chair Nathan had occupied earlier.
“What’s wrong?” Rand leaned back on the edge of the desk, propping himself so he could face her. He wanted to be close; the other side of the desk was too far away.
She clasped her hands in her lap and didn’t look at him. “I have to stop seeing you.”
His heart coughed like an engine that was on the verge of dying. Then it kick-started. “What’s happened? Is it something with Nathan?” Because that problem was solved.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Justin?” It had to be one of her boys; there could be no other reason.
Again, she shook her head, then she swallowed. “It’s not the boys. It’s just that I need to do what’s right.”
He closed his eyes briefly. One day they were on; the next they were off. He was getting a little ticked at the roller-coaster ride she kept taking him on. Then he got hold of himself. She wouldn’t look at him, so he went down in a squat before her. “Everything is good with Nathan now. We can work this out, let the boys know that we’re attracted, that we’d like to see each other.”
“I’m not telling them about us.” Her eyes were wild.
Her sharp tone pissed him off as well, but he tamped it down since she was so obviously upset. “Rachel, it’s time to start thinking in terms of a relationship, a future.”
She simply stared at him like he’d suddenly shed his skin and turned out to be an alien. “This was casual. We have no future. No one was ever supposed to know.”
“Is this because we arrived home late on Sunday?”
She clamped her lips shut. That was his answer; yes, it was about Sunday. Something had happened when she got home, which was why she hadn’t taken his calls either Sunday night or Monday.
He covered her clasped hands with his palm. He realized he was springing this relationship idea on her. He’d thought about it; she might take a little bit longer. “This isn’t about sex anymore, Rachel. It’s become more important than just sex.”
All at once, she yanked her hands out of his, shoved the chair back, and began to pace the office. Outside, teenagers marched—or shuffled—to and fro, but, for his students’ privacy, he always kept the blinds slightly tilted so that it was difficult to see inside. Now it was for Rachel’s privacy.
“I’m not letting you go without an explanation,” he said softly, her back to him. “What happened on Sunday that has you all freaked out? Don’t lie and tell me it’s nothing.”
She whirled on him. “I do not lie.” Yet in the next split second, her gaze fell.
That obviously pricked a nerve. “Then tell me. Let’s talk about this.”
She buried her face in her hands. “Men don’t like to talk.” It came out slightly muffled through her fingers.
He gave her a gentle smile. “I’m an educator. I talk for a living. And I’m a good listener.”
She was silent for several heartbeats, then finally she slid back down into the chair, perching on the edge of it. She smoothed her skirt down over her thighs. He didn’t tower over her, but took up the other seat.
“Promise you’re not going to get mad or freak out.”
As much as he wanted to smile, he didn’t. How many times had he heard those exact words in this office and all the other offices he’d had? He gave the same answer he always did. “I won’t get mad.”
“While we were in Las Vegas, my ex-husband found the video you and I made.”
Instead of speeding up, his heart rate slowed to something like sludge. “Where was it?” He thought he sounded quite calm.
“In my lingerie drawer.” She swallowed nervously.
“Does he feel he has a right to paw through your lingerie?” Yes, he was deadly calm about the whole thing.
“No, he just—” She stopped, as if fearing his reaction.
“He just”—significant pause—“what?”
“He wanted to find something on me,” she said softly. “When he realized I’d been away for the weekend, he didn’t think it was just a trip with the girls.”
Rand breathed deeply, but found his fists clenched around the arms of his chair. He loosened them. He’d like nothing better than to beat Delaney to a bloody pulp. He advocated non-violence, but he enjoyed the image of crushing a few of the man’s bones. “So he found our lovely video and told you that you had to break off our relationship or”—he spread his hands—“what?”
She shook her head, and he was struck again with the similarity to Nathan. Mannerisms were the tell between family. They pursed their lips the same, shook their heads the same.
“He doesn’t care whether I stop seeing you or not.” She dipped her head. “He wants me to give him full custody of the boys. If I don’t, he’ll go to court and use the video to show I’m an unfit mother.”
He felt his anger rage until he was sure the whites of his eyes had turned red. “What did you tell him?”
“I said yes.” Her eyes flashed, as if suddenly she had someone to lash out at. “What else could I tell him? He’ll let me have them one or two weekends a month. Otherwise I might not get to see them at all.”
The man definitely deserved a thrashing. Those boys were the most important thing in the world to Rachel, and that asshole ex of hers was hitting where it would hurt the most.
“He can also use it to get you fired,” she said softly.
That did it. He couldn’t ratchet back the ire, and he stood, turning on her. “We made a private video i
n the comfort of my home for personal use only. He cannot get me fired for that, especially as it was stolen property. This isn’t about us. This is about you and the boys.”
“I know,” she said, her voice low, almost cowed. “His girlfriend wants more time with the boys. She wants to be a mother or something.”
“Then tell her to have her own children,” he barked, immediately regretting the harshness. This wasn’t Rachel’s fault. It wasn’t even his for making the video in the first place. He didn’t regret that for a moment. He regretted only that he hadn’t yet gotten to watch it with her. What that man was doing to her was unconscionable.
He stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “He’s bluffing, Rachel. He isn’t going to show that video to anyone. If he intended to, he would have gone directly to family court without blackmailing you first.”
She licked her lips, then looked up at him with pleading in her eyes. “I know. But I can’t take that chance. He could try to hurt you. And what would the boys do if they ever found out?”
“I would enjoy having him take me on.” He’d crush the asswipe. “But there’s no way he’s going to let your boys see that video or even hear of its existence. He knows it’ll have the opposite effect and make them hate him for exposing it.”
She pressed her lips together and gave him a militant glare. “You can’t know that’s how they’ll react.”
“I know teenagers, and they’ll surprise you every time. They’re far more tolerant than most parents expect. They’ll probably think you’re cool.” Once they got over the idea of having their mom sexualized. No self-respecting kid wanted to imagine his parents having sex. But if the ex-husband told them about the video, they’d be much more likely to hate him because he was the one who’d asked for the divorce in the first place. It was the equivalent of waving a red flag at them and saying, Yeah, I really was the asshole who dumped on your mom when she didn’t deserve it.
Rand pointed that out. “They’ll blame Gary for doing this to you more than they’ll blame you for making the video.”
“They’ll think I’m a slut,” she muttered.
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