The Bad Boy’s Tutor: Hidden Masks Book 1

by Arthurs, Nia

  “Oh, she conveniently forgot to mention that.” I’m gonna kill Angie when I see her.

  “When I came back I saw that black car waiting in the alley. At first, I didn’t think anything of it. I was focused on what I would say when I saw you, but I remembered that I’d seen that car before.”

  “Where?”

  “A few weeks ago. It was parked outside the school gates.”

  “Are you saying they were observing me from then?”

  “I don’t know, but it looks that way. When it clicked, I immediately turned the car around and followed them. I called Angie and she said you’d already left. I had a crazy feeling that I should check up on you.”

  I glared through the windshield. I’d never been punched before and the fact that those thugs had done it just to ‘send my dad a message’ made me furious. How much worse would it have gotten if James hadn’t intervened?

  “Thank you. For following your gut feeling, I mean. And punching those guys.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I played with the strap of my purse. “What… did you want to see me about earlier?”

  “We’re almost to the hospital,” James said quietly. “Let’s get you checked out and then we can talk later.”

  I nodded. That was probably for the best. I had bigger things to worry about than my non-relationship with James. I’d been beaten up, grabbed and almost kidnapped. Which was terrible in itself. But the thugs had mentioned Dad and that meant my family was in deeper trouble than ever before.

  James parked in the hospital lot and I grabbed my phone to send a text to my parents. When I unlocked the screen, I was shocked to find a bunch of missed calls from my father.

  I called him back.

  He picked up immediately, as if he’d been waiting to hear from me. “Monique? Oh, thank God. Are you okay?”

  James looked at me, puzzled.

  “How did you know I got hurt?”

  There was total silence and then, “I can’t believe them. Did they really hurt you?”

  “You knew about this?”

  “I’m sorry, Momo. I can explain. Just… what did they say?”

  “Before or after punching me in the eye?” I turned away from James and lowered my voice. “Dad, what did you get involved with this time? Those guys looked like serious criminals. They said they needed to send a message to you.”

  “I know. I know. I’ll explain everything. Which hospital are you at?”

  I gave him the information and then hung up. Shame weighed me down. I couldn’t look James in the eye. “My parents are coming.”

  “I’ll wait with you.”

  “No.” It’s too embarrassing. “You should go.”

  James didn’t move. “Monique, that night I had to get my mom from the bar, you didn’t judge me. You just helped with whatever I needed. It meant a lot to me and I never got to thank you for it.”

  “You don’t need to thank me.”

  “Then at least let me return the favor.” He dipped his head so I had to look at him, brown eyes glistening. “Hm?”

  I gave in and nodded.

  Together, James and I headed into the hospital. I got a form and a pack of ice to hold to my face while I waited. Since my hands were occupied, James scribbled the information in for me and then escorted me to see a doctor.

  My examination was almost over when my dad skated into the room, chest heaving and sweat pouring from his face.

  “Dad!” I hopped off the cot.

  James spun.

  Dad ignored him and the doctor. He strode toward me and wrapped me in a hug. I hugged him back. With James, I’d felt safe and secure, but all of a sudden, I was terrified again.

  I pushed Dad back and frowned. “Dad, you’re shaking.”

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, Momo. This is my fault.”

  The doctor smiled grimly. “She’ll be fine, sir. There are no signs of concussion. The bruises on her arms and the swelling on her face should go down in a few days. Have you contacted the police?”

  “No, no police.” Dad shook his head.

  The doctor eyed me.

  I swallowed. “Thank you, Doctor.”

  With one last suspicious look at my father, the doctor walked out. As soon as he was gone, I whirled on Dad. “What’s going on? And you better tell me everything.”

  “This time, Monique,” Dad swallowed audibly, “I’m in real deep trouble.”

  21

  Pay Or Die

  Monique

  My heart ballooned with fear. I stumbled toward him. Grabbed his hand. Held on for dear life. “What kind of trouble? Who were those guys, Dad?”

  “I met them at this new spot downtown, Window’s Creek Casino. Tito said they were a part of a league that was looking for members. Basically, we would fill in on the games when they didn’t have enough players.”

  “A league? You mean, a league for gambling?”

  Dad nodded.

  I stumbled back. “And you joined?”

  “It was an opportunity to do the one thing I was good at. How could I turn it down?”

  “Dad…” I moaned. My father joining a league for gambling was like an alcoholic getting a job as a wine taster.

  “I know. In hindsight, it was too good to be true. I shouldn’t have signed up, but I really wanted to make things better for you and your mother. You both work so hard. I felt like a failure, as a man and as a father.”

  “So you decided the best way to help us was by getting involved with criminals?”

  “Of course not. At first, it all seemed above board. I played my rounds and paid my dues. Then the games went longer. And things started getting shadier and shadier. They instructed us to hide cards and trick customers.”

  I threw my hands up. “So let me get this straight. You lied to us, spent the last few weeks gambling all day, and now your boss is after us?”

  “Not my boss.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We were playing a round with someone big, Orlando Goya. Drug dealer. Gangbanger. Not someone I’d usually hang around. He caught on to our tricks and called us out. When we denied cheating, he started breaking tables and demanding his money back.”

  “How much?” I asked hoarsely.

  “Ten grand.”

  “By when?”

  “First he gave us a week, but I couldn’t come up with the money so I asked Tito to go to one of his boys and ask for an extension. And he did. Then Tito told me that he couldn’t make an appointment—”

  “When do they need the money, Dad?”

  “By tomorrow.”

  I shut my eyes, praying that this was all just a nightmare. “What about your boss? Can he help?”

  “Er… not exactly.”

  “Right. I’m assuming he threw you under the bus and swore that you cheated on your own.”

  Dad’s grin trembled. “Something like that.”

  I let out a deep breath. A part of me wished those thugs had knocked me out so hard I didn’t wake up.

  “Don’t worry, honey.” My father blinked rapidly as if he didn’t believe his own reassurances. “Tito’s working on scrounging up half the money. All I need is the next half to get this guy off my back.”

  “Dad, even if Tito paid most of the debt, we wouldn’t have anything to give. We have no money.”

  “I’m working on it. Trust Daddy, okay?”

  I scoffed. “Trust you? So you can let me down again?”

  “Monique, please—”

  “Get away from me.” I hissed. “I’m tired, Dad.” My voice hiked as my temper flared. “Do you hear me? I’m exhausted. When does our family become more important than your habit?”

  His eyes glistened. “You and your mom mean everything to me.”

  “Mom is running herself into the ground, suffering, because of you.”

  I felt a hand on my back. James stood behind me, soothing a circle into my shirt. I wanted to scream even more at the reminder that he ha
d heard and seen how warped our family was.

  I must look so pathetic.

  “Are you okay?” James whispered.

  I brushed away a rebellious tear. “I’m fine.”

  He glanced at my dad and stepped forward, offering a hand. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier.”

  “Who are you?” Dad eyed his hand in distrust.

  “I’m James Sa—”

  “He’s a friend,” I said. “Just a friend.”

  James sent me a funny look.

  I hid his identity for his own good. If Dad knew James’s connection to me, he’d try to manipulate that to get us out of this mess. I’d already taken James’s money once. I didn’t plan on doing it again.

  “A friend?”

  “Yes, Dad.” I pushed James toward the door. “You should go.”

  “But—”

  Before I could nudge him out of the room, my mother flew in. She wore an oil-stained apron over her jeans and T-shirt. Her dark skin glistened with sweat and her hair was scooped into a tiny bun.

  “Monique, I got your message. What happened?” Mom’s gaze fell on my busted eye and a frightened mewl tumbled from her lips. “Who did this to you?”

  “I… fell.”

  James stiffened beside me.

  Mom croaked out a disbelieving laugh. Her gaze sharpened and slid to James. “Is it him?”

  “What?” James cried.

  Mom advanced, pulling up the sleeves of her shirt. “Did he put his hands on you?”

  I blocked her path. “Mom, stop.”

  She did.

  “This is my friend James. He took me to the hospital after I, uh, tripped.”

  “Oh.” Mom’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry for misunderstanding.”

  Silence fell on the room.

  I avoided Mom’s gaze.

  Dad did too.

  She chuckled nervously, studying both our faces. “Why is the mood so tense in here?”

  Still no answer.

  “Is there something I should know?”

  “Of course not.” Dad grabbed Mom by the shoulder and started to steer her out of the room. “The doctor said that Monique’s going to be just fine. Why don’t we head home? I’m sure she’s tired after… tripping.”

  “No,” a voice said. “That’s not true.”

  My jaw dropped.

  Dad froze.

  Mom spun.

  James lifted his chin. “Monique didn’t fall on the street, ma’am. She was assaulted by two thugs who wanted to use her to send your husband a message.”

  “James,” I hissed.

  His brown eyes met mine, fiery in their conviction. “What? You fell?” His lips curled in a disgusted sneer. “I’ve heard my mom use that stupid excuse a hundred times. I can’t stand here and watch you do the same.”

  I leaned back, speechless.

  James approached Mom. “Mrs. Hughes, I know it’s not any of my business, but I’d like to help in any way I can. If you need a loan—”

  “No,” I snapped.

  Dad perked up. “Monique, listen to the young man. We shouldn’t be turning any money away right now.”

  “Shut it.” Mom smacked Dad in the shoulder. “What money do you want to take from a teenager?

  Dad flinched.

  “James,” I growled, “can I talk to you?”

  As I stalked away, I heard Mom yelling at Dad. “You got my daughter beat up by thugs? What mess did you start now, Frederick?”

  I led James to an empty hallway. Looked left and right. When I was sure we were alone, I glared at him—which was pretty hard to do with a swollen eye. “The hell was that?”

  He shrugged. “The truth.”

  “You had no right to intervene. I understand why you might have been triggered by the excuse I chose, but still… you can’t just offer your money because you feel sorry for us. This is between me and my family. We’re gonna figure it out.”

  His jaw clenched. “So you’re asking me to sit back and do nothing?”

  “Yes!”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  He glared a hole into the floor.

  I shoved his shoulder. “Answer me! Why’d you open your mouth and butt in when no one asked you?”

  “Because I had to!” he yelled. “Alright? When it comes to you, Monique,” he pulled at his hair, “I don’t know. It’s like you’ve infiltrated my mind. Seeing you getting hauled around by those thugs, I lost it. I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. You’re too important to me.”

  “Important?” I scoffed. “If I’m recalling correctly, you were the one who cancelled tutoring. You were the one who never called. And now you’re showing up out of the blue acting like you give a damn?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Life’s not fair, Sawyer. Not everyone can live in a mansion on a hill. You think just because you’re rich you can jerk me around? How dare you.” I trembled. “How dare you show up and act like you care about me.”

  He swiftly advanced. “I do care about you. More than I’ve cared about anyone.”

  “I don’t want to listen to this.”

  He slammed his hand against the wall, caging me in.

  I jumped and glared at him. “Back off.”

  “Not until you hear everything.”

  I stared at his wrinkled brow and clenched jaw. A storm of emotions glimmered behind his dark brown eyes. “Since the day I first saw you in that stupid bar, I was curious about you. I’ll admit, tutoring was just a front but then I started looking forward to it. Because I wanted to see you.”

  My chest expanded, brushing against his. Awareness skittered up my arm, swirled around my stomach.

  “You know my family situation.” He swallowed. “You know my dad sleeps with prostitutes and my mom blames everyone but him for it. That’s the only type of relationship I’ve seen all my life. Pain and betrayal. Anger and scorn. And then you came along.”

  My breath hitched when our gazes collided.

  “Monique, I… I don’t deserve to say I have any feelings for you. But I do. And I’m afraid to call it love because I don’t want to hurt you like my dad hurt my mom. I don’t want to taint you with my darkness. But I can’t stay away. Not now. Not ever.”

  “James…”

  His hand cupped my cheek, the one that had been bruised. He dropped a whisper-soft kiss there. My blood rushed in my ears. He kissed my other cheek. The good one. His hand dropped to my jaw, lifting my chin.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “even if I’m with you, I might never be able to use those words. But I’ll show you. I’ll show you what it’s supposed to mean. I promise.”

  Emotions welled in my chest and, for some reason, I started to cry. Maybe the trauma of my day had finally hit home. Maybe his words had pinched a part of my heart that was raw, exposed livewire.

  Maybe I was crazy.

  I shook my head as James wiped my tears with his thumb. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

  “Can you at least tell me if these are happy tears? Or sad tears? Weirded-out tears?”

  I laughed and grabbed his wrists, staring at his bruised knuckles. Slowly, I moved his hand to my lips and kissed his wounds. With each brush of my lips, I felt James trembling harder and harder.

  When I glanced up, he was staring right at me.

  I’m not sure who moved first. All I know is, our lips collided in a desperate, sweeping caress. His mouth was firm, his breath warm. He thrust me against the wall with his body, driving out the little breath I had left in my lungs.

  I clung to him, crying and kissing and not sure why I was doing either only that it felt right in the moment.

  When the sound of footsteps thundered in the distance, James pulled back. I kept my eyes closed, sniffing quietly and lingering in the warmth that still swirled from his touch.

  “There’s something else I have to tell you,” James said heavily.

  “What?”

 
; He didn’t immediately reply.

  I opened my eyes to confirm that he was still there. And he was. My gaze raked his tousled black hair, square jaw and broad shoulders—all parts of him that my hands had just explored.

  James Sawyer had feelings for me.

  Did this mean we were dating now?

  “Monique?” he said roughly.

  “Yeah.”

  “Marissa, she…”

  I stared at him, wondering what was so hard to get out. “Hm?”

  “She’s pregnant.”

  22

  Maybe I Love You

  James

  In hindsight, I should have kept my mouth shut. Monique’s shocked face warned that my timing was off. Way off. Regret seeped through my veins, but it was too late to take the words back.

  “P-pregnant?”

  I nodded.

  Her face blanched.

  “Monique?” A voice echoed down the hallway.

  “That’s my mom,” Monique mumbled, pushing me back and wiping at her tears.

  A moment later, Mrs. Hughes appeared. Her intelligent brown eyes zipped to me before landing on her daughter. “Are you ready to go home?”

  “Yeah,” Monique said softly.

  I backed away. “I’ll call you.”

  She didn’t reply. Didn’t even look back.

  I watched them turn the corner before I wilted against the wall and blew out a deep breath.

  Nice going, man.

  I raised a hand to cover my face. Why did I tell her that Marissa was pregnant? It totally ruined the moment. Probably ruined Monique’s entire night. Which hadn’t been going all that well in the first place.

  My phone buzzed.

  Grateful for the distraction, I slipped it out of my pocket.

  Mom’s name flashed on the screen.

  I picked up. “Hey, mom.”

  “James,” she whispered urgently, “where are you? Did you forget your father’s dinner tonight?”

  I kicked off the wall and sprinted for the exits. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “Hurry,” she hissed.

  I jumped into my car and raced home. After parking in the garage, I rushed inside.