The Professor

by Kelli Callahan

  “Need a hand?” Sebastian, my best friend, who was more like a brother to me, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, smirking. I hated it when he smirked because it meant he could do something that I couldn’t. I didn’t like not being able to do something. I was the kind of man that made sure he knew how to do anything and everything.

  But a tie? These damn things were my worst enemy, and that was saying something considering my profession and past. No matter how much I practiced, a tie always defeated me.

  “No, I decided not to wear one. For your information.” It was a lie, and he knew it, but I didn’t like to admit weakness. He also knew that, so he never made me feel bad about that less than amazing quality about myself.

  “Right.” He ran his fingers through his thick head of black hair and lifted his hand from his pocket to look at his Rolex. “We need to leave in five minutes.”

  “I’m nearly ready,” I said, not admitting that out of all the jobs we have done together, this was the one I was nervous about.

  We weren’t stealing art. We weren’t stealing diamonds, drugs, or money.

  We were stealing a woman.

  Someone who I have considered mine for an awfully long time.

  Quinn Taylor. The only woman who has ever had my heart.

  She was going to walk down the aisle today and marry the wrong man, the man who set me up and was the reason why I had to spend ten years of my life in prison for committing third-degree murder— something I did not do.

  I got pinned for killing my pregnant sister. Tracy was my best friend. She was good. One of those people you could always count on. She was a much better person than I was. She didn’t deserve to die.

  Ten years ago, I still got into shit I wasn’t supposed to, but I never killed anybody. I met Brian Marks, a guy around my age who wanted to get in the drug industry together and make a fortune. I didn’t do drugs, but selling them? A man could make millions. We decided if we went into business together, we would split profits fifty-fifty.

  Everything changed when he met my sister. Brian got her pregnant, and when Tracy told him, he was high on cocaine and flipped out. She called me crying, and I got in my car and hurried over to calm her down, but when I got there, it was too late. She was dead.

  I had run, what possibly could have happened, in my head a thousand times. It was simple. Brian was fucked up, then he freaked about being a father, and killed her, thinking it took care of a problem. It devastated me to lose Tracy. It was just us since I was eighteen and she was twenty when our parents died in a car accident.

  Then Brian did the one thing I never thought he would do.

  He sold me out to the cops. Saying he came home and found me strangling Tracy. His word held over mine because he didn’t have a record, and his daddy was in politics. So I did my time, held my tongue, and planned the day I saw him again.

  Which would be today, and I couldn’t wait to see his face.

  I have been out of prison now for about a year, staying underground with a few buddies and building up our reputation, our money, and waiting until we had the power to go after any personal issues we had.

  Me and my friends, we weren’t like other felons. All of us are innocent. So we devised a plan. We couldn’t get a good job because of our records, and I wasn’t the kind of guy who didn’t enjoy the nicer things in life, so we stole.

  But we only steal from other criminals.

  Drugs, art, money, or whatever the hell was valuable, we planned a heist, and once we had it in our grasp, we sold it, whether it was illegally or at an auction, then we always donated a portion of the money because we were good people. We had hearts of black with flecks of gold.

  A portion of the money. Keywords were important. Kindness didn’t pay the bills, so we kept a cut. Sebastian was an internet guru, and people thought we made our money because we got lucky in investing.

  I guess, in a way, we did.

  Now that we had our feet under us, we all had a bone to pick, and since I formed our little family, I got to go first. With all the heists we did, our revenge should be easy to accomplish.

  We succeeded.

  We conquered.

  We lived like kings.

  The Underground Kings. That was what the criminal world knew us as. No one knew our faces, no one knew where we lived, no one knew our reasons, so they bestowed us with the title of royalty, and we ran with it.

  Life was fucking good, and for me, it was about to get better.

  Not only did Brian Marks set me up, but he stole my girl, and today I was going to get her back. Not because I loved her anymore. This was about revenge. Brian took ten years of my life, and I was going to take ten years from theirs, stopping them from living happily ever after. And then, I was going to torture him until he confessed and cleared my name.

  Maybe Quinn would see I wasn’t the monster she was made to believe me to be. We were each other’s first, everything. And when I was charged with murdering my sister, she broke up with me. Her lack of faith in me hurt, the fact that she didn’t know me better than that, so I let her think I did kill Tracy.

  Quinn went and fell in love with the actual murderer, the traitor, and I didn’t fucking care about her happiness anymore. I wanted my ten years back.

  Lie.

  I knew deep down it was more than revenge, but love was a weakness in my world. It wasn’t what made the damn thing go round, money was.

  “You ready yet? Jesus. We aren’t going to make it if you keep grooming yourself. You look pretty. Let’s go,” Sebastian said, snapping his fingers at me.

  I hated it when he called me pretty. Men like me weren’t pretty.

  “Everyone armed?” I asked, buttoning my cuff link as I strolled out of the hotel room.

  “Is everyone armed?” Asher scoffed and opened the blazer of his suit to show he had a double holster strapped to his chest with a gun filling each. Asher Haven, also known as Heaven since is he was the pretty boy of the group and had a way with the ladies any time of the day, no matter where we were. Heaven was set up for assault and battery by an old ex. He only spent a few years in prison, so he still had an innocence about him I didn’t understand.

  “What kind of question is that?” Owen, the oldest of the group at forty, shook his head. He was set up for murder too, only it was first-degree, and he spent twenty-two years in prison. And time really hardened him up.

  “I was just checking. No need to get touchy about it,” I mumbled. I looked left and right down the hall. We were the only ones here. I made sure to rent out all the rooms so no one could bother us. The hotel was extravagant. Marble floors were under our Italian leather loafers and crystal chandeliers hung every few feet.

  “Like we would ever forget to go into a job armed,” Grayson chimed in and shut the door behind him. He was accused of rape and served eight years. I knew his girlfriend accused him, and DNA evidence was there because they had sex earlier that day, so everything was against him. She cheated on him constantly, and instead of accusing the right meth head, she brought down a good man.

  The group of us walked down the hall, dressed to perfection. We got onto the stainless-steel elevator, and I pressed the button for the lobby.

  “Your nervous,” Owen eyed me up and down. “You are fidgeting.”

  “I’m not,” I said weakly.

  He gripped my arm and spun me around. I stared at where his hand gripped my bicep. I lifted a brow, wondering why he dared to touch me. The elevator descended, dinging every time we passed a floor. “Get your hands off me,” I said through tight teeth.

  “We can’t do a job if you’re all jittery, Jaxon. Get your shit together,” he said.

  I ripped my arm from his hold and stepped close to him, lifting my finger in his face. “One, don’t ever touch me again. Two, don’t ever fucking touch me again. Do you understand?” There was a problem with a group of guys like us. We were all dominant, and all of us thought we were in charge, so we clashed.


  There was no mistake, though. I was in fucking charge.

  “And three, I am ready to do the job. Don’t ever question me again,” I warned him just as the elevator stopped and opened its doors to let us out. I spun on my heel and marched forward, not giving a damn what else Owen had to say. My men flocked my sides, and as we walk toward the front door, everyone turned their heads to stare at us. Men and women alike. They could feel the power and danger rolling off us.

  It was a damn good feeling too.

  The gunmetal grey Rolls Royce was there to pick us up, and the driver opened the back doors to let us in. One by one, we dipped our heads and climbed in the car. It smelled of new leather, rich and buttery with a hint of leather musk. I inhaled deeply, letting the expensive seats calm my nerves. It had been ten years since I had seen Quinn.

  And after today, she’d be mine for another ten.

  The anticipation was arousing me. Now, Brian would know what it would be like to lose someone he cared about, and Quinn would know what it was like to have the opportunity taken away.

  The car pulled away from the curb, and as we gained speed, I saw people trying to peek into the car, but they couldn’t see through the tinted windows. I leaned back and closed my eyes, imagining the plan in my head for the hundredth time. I would make myself sparse in the crowd as I sat in a pew, would wait until the priest asked for any objections, and I would stand.

  I couldn’t wait to see their faces.

  “You’re smirking,” Sebastian said from across from me.

  “I am. I can’t wait to ruin them,” I said, lacing my fingers together and laying them over my stomach. I have waited too long for this. I just hoped no one noticed me when I walked into the church.

  Hopefully, I wouldn’t burst into flames at the steps. Not that it would matter.

  The ride was quick since we stayed in the closest five-star hotel.

  “Show time, boys,” Owen said as he climbed out of the car. The hot summer day in California made its way into the car, causing my body to sweat under the suit.

  My shoes landed on the black pavement of the parking lot nestled in front of the old white church. It was quaint, small, and historic.

  Cheap.

  I curled my lips and tugged on the lapels of my jacket. How could Brian marry her here? My wife deserved the best of the best, not some small church in the middle of fucking nowhere. I glanced around and saw people pouring into the church, ignoring us, laughing, and smiling at all the cute farm looking decorations.

  Tacky.

  “I’m going straight upstairs to line up my shot,” Sebastian said as we all walked toward the doors of the church.

  “We will take the sides.” Heaven jutted his chin out toward Grayson and slapped his hand on my back. “Just in case he decides to run.”

  “I’ll take the back,” Owen said. “Nothing can go wrong. Follow the plan. No improvising.”

  We had been planning this for months… ever since I saw the announcement in the paper. We knew every inch of this church by studying it so much. Nothing would go wrong. Nothing ever did with the Underground Kings.

  I buttoned my suit and ran my hand over my slicked-back hair. People stared at me as I walked through the church doors alone, probably wondering if I was the devil himself with all the tattoos on me. Granted, most of my body was covered but they couldn’t see that. All they saw was my hands, my neck, and the side of my skull. Old women gripped their bibles, and husbands wrapped their arm around their wives as if I'd tempt them with my wicked ways.

  Probably would.

  “Excuse me,” I said, giving a kind smile to the elderly woman sitting in the third row from the back.

  “Oh, of course,” she said and stood up to allow me in.

  “Thank you. And may I add, you look lovely.” I gave the old gem my most charming smile, and she slapped my arm, blushing. She wore a simple light pink dress with low nude heels and had pearls around her neck. Her grey hair was curled and poufy, and she had large pink earrings clasped on her lobes.

  “Oh, aren’t you sweet,” she smiled. “My Henry, God rest his soul, loved me in the color pink, so I always wear it in his memory.”

  “Well, he was a smart man. Pink is your color.”

  She giggled, and the aged sound made me grin. “You’re trouble, aren’t you? Just a rascal.”

  “Maybe a little,” I said, holding up two fingers to show a tiny space. “What’s your name?” I asked her. I wanted to make sure she got out of here when the chaos started.

  “Ingrid and you, young man? You know, my neighbor is quite lovely. She’s single.”

  “Jaxon. And if she is anything like you, I'm sure she is.”

  “Oh,” she shook her slender, wrinkled finger at me. “You’re trouble.”

  You have no idea.

  We sat in silence after that on the hard-uncomforted pews that were older than Ingrid. The Holy Bible sat on the shelf that was attached to the back of the seat in front of us, and it mocked me, trying to make me feel bad for what I was about to do.

  The music started and everyone stood. I helped Ingrid to her feet, and she gave me a grateful smile. “Are you here for the bride or groom?” she whispered as the bridesmaids walked down the red-carpeted aisle.

  “Both.” I made sure to keep my voice low and my body hidden behind Ingrid, as much as it could be, so no one saw me.

  Here comes the bride.

  My heart pounded when the tune started to play. Quinn’s shadow fell across the aisle, and my breath caught. I imagined her like this before; only I was the man at the end waiting. I glanced up, and my world tilted for a moment. Her blonde hair was up in an elegant hairdo, a few curls framed her face, and tiny flowers were strategically placed all over her head. Her dress hugged her body, a strapless silk gown that made her look like more of a goddess than a normal person. It was a simplistic beauty, something no one else could pull off because they weren’t as beautiful as Quinn.

  She walked down the aisle, and I watched her face. She wasn’t smiling, and her knuckles were white from clutching the bouquet of red roses and daisies. Her face looked like a porcelain doll, pale pink lips, and long lashes with rosy cheeks. Stunning.

  She looked divine.

  When she got to the alter, my eyes landed on Brian before we all sat down, and my jaw tightened when I saw his hand take hers. That was supposed to be me, but he ruined my life. I couldn’t wait to do the same to him.

  “As we gather here today...”

  I tuned out the priest, ignoring everything he said as I stared at Quinn. Her throat bobbed with nerves, and she scratched her collarbone, something she did when she was nervous, and my eyes fell to her breasts that pushed against the gown. Up and down, the perfect sized mounds curved to her neck with every inhale, tightening the gown to her body.

  “Does anyone object to this holy matrimony?” he announced. Brian and Quinn scanned the crowd, looking for the person who dared.

  It was my time to shine.

  I stood and clasped the button of my suit. “I object.”

  The crowd gasped, and Ingrid yanked my sleeve, mean-mugging me when I looked down. “I knew you were trouble,” she said.

  I winked, and her irritation turned to a wicked grin. I see Ingrid has a little trouble in her too. I knew I liked her.

  My eyes landed on Quinn, and she dropped the bouquet when she saw me. A ghost from her past coming back to haunt her. Brian backed away from her when he saw me, heading toward the exist closest to him.

  A shot rang out, and everyone screamed, and chaos fell in the holiness of the church.

  My specialty.

  “I think it’s best you leave, Ingrid.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m not missing this.” She straightened her back and watched people run out the doors, women tripping in their high heels, and men not helping them get out.

  “I told you, I was here for both. Excuse me,” I said, inching my way in front of her until I walked down the aisle, Quinn staring at
me with her wide, light brown eyes.

  Another shot rang out, and this time, the bullet tore into Brian’s shoulder and spattered blood all over her white gown. She screamed and tried to go to him, but Heaven held her back while Grayson held Brian.

  Father stood there, reciting something out of the bible for demons. That wouldn’t work on me.

  I was the devil.

  “You look stunning, Quinn.” I bent down and kissed her cheek. She gasped, unable to form words. Tears ran down her face, and I kissed them away too, drinking her down like a parched man that had been denied of water.

  I turned my attention to Brian, the pathetic excuse of a man. He was crying. A bumbling mess on his knees as the blood dripped from his wound. I bent down and gripped his chin with my fingers, hating him even more than I thought was possible.

  “What are you doing?” Quinn yelled at me.

  I looked over my shoulder, seeing the mascara run black trails down her face and smirked. “Taking what is mine.”

  And it wasn’t Quinn.

  It was vengeance.

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  About the Author

  Kelli writes billionaires, bad boys, and alpha protectors that are hot-as-sin and filthy to the core. If you want to stay up to date with all things Kelli, sign up to her mailings list here.

  Also by Kelli Callahan

  Cruel Temptation

  Lying Hearts

  Alway The Enemy

  Kiss My Boss

  Daddy’s Kilted Friend

  My Enemy’s Daddy

  Fire and Desire

  My Ex-Boyfriend’s Daddy

  Hatefully Yours

  Her Secret Santa

  Devious Intentions

  Once Upon A Daddy

  Secret Indiscretions