His scowl is vicious, and I know he wants to push me for more, but he must recognize my steely resolve not to give him what he wants. If the police couldn’t crack me, no way in fuck will he be able to.
“The offer was too good to refuse,” he says at last.
I bet it was. I bet a place like Angelview offers a fat salary with unbeatable benefits. A person would have to be an idiot to turn down an offer from them.
Unless, of course, one of the students was your former dirty secret whom you’re convinced killed your brother.
“Did you know I was going here when you took the job?” I ask sharply.
He doesn’t answer, but his tight grin tells me everything I need to know.
The fucker knew. The fucker knew, and he came anyway. Or, more likely, he came because I was here, which is even more disturbing.
My suspicion that he was intentionally brought here grows stronger. How else would you explain a nobody teacher from a poor town in Georgia getting a job offer from a prestigious coastal academy? He’s probably the least qualified of all the teachers at this school.
“Whatever you’re doing here, you should just give up now,” I say. “You’re wasting your time.”
“We’ll see,” he replies, that mocking smile still in place.
Turning on my heel, I storm toward the door. I’m done with him. Totally and completely. I’m so repulsed with myself that I ever thought I loved him. He’s a predator. A manipulator.
I’ve carried this terrible guilt, believing I ruined Dylan Porter’s life, but the truth is, he’s tried to ruin mine.
And I’m pretty sure he wants to finish what he started.
I make it out into the hallway without looking back at Dylan and start to make my way out of the building at a brisk pace so he can’t catch me if he decides to give chase.
My mind is a whirl, and my blood is boiling. I’m so distracted by my confrontation with Dylan, I don’t see the large figure looming in my path until I nearly crash into it.
With a start, I look up into the ugly, angry face of Jon Erik. He’s seething, and I can practically see the wrath rolling off his big shoulders.
“There you are, whore,” he hisses.
I clench my hands into fists, my anger toward Dylan focusing in on this douche. Out here, there’s nobody to report me to Headmaster Aldridge if I hit this motherfucker. And I might have to, considering what happened the last time Jon Erik and Finnegan came after me.
And now that there’s no longer a Finnegan…
Focusing on the embroidered winged knight crest on his blazer, I ask, “What now?” My tone isn’t the snarl I intended, but a soft whisper because I remember what it was like losing my best friend.
Except James wasn’t a rapey sociopath, the voice in the back of my head reminds me. James was good and kind and you killed him.
Like always, I ignore the voice, but my voice still cracks when I demand, “What do you want, Jon Erik?”
“You,” he states bluntly. “You’re a dead bitch walking.”
I wish I could say I’m taken aback by the seriousness in his tone, but sadly, I expected this. It doesn’t stop my stomach from roiling. “Look, I’m not doing this with you because I—”
“You killed Finnegan, you worthless cunt.”
For the first time since he approached me, I meet his gaze only to discover it’s not focused on me, but on something that has him looking up. I take a quick glance over my shoulder, and my breath catches when I spot a security camera mounted high on the wall.
I try not to imagine how this would have gone down if that wasn’t there, but I fail. Miserably. A shudder courses through me, but I square my shoulder and look at him again. “I did not kill Finnegan,” I finally manage to reply.
“Lying bitch. Everyone knows it was you. Cops just can’t nail your ass. Yet.” When I start to argue my case, he shakes his big square head and grinds out, “Shut your redneck, piece of shit mouth. Just remember that Angelle’s not around to save you this time. By the time I’m through with…”
This is where I zone out because I can see there’s no getting through to him. No matter what I say, he won’t believe me. Hoisting my backpack higher onto my shoulders, I walk around him without another word. He yells after me to stop, but he doesn’t try to force me to do so because he’s afraid of evidence.
So, I just keep walking.
9
I’m relieved to get to swim practice at the end of my shitty first day back. It’ll be good to get in the water and let off some steam. I arrive early, hoping to get an extended warmup in before practice starts, and once I’m changed into my swimsuit, I make my way out to the pool.
Coach Friedricks is there already, which isn’t surprising, as she’s always early. What is surprising is the way her face crinkles into a deep scowl as I near.
“Ellis, I’m glad you got here first.” She motions me toward her. “We need to talk.”
A weight drops in my stomach because I’m certain whatever it is she has to say, I’m not going to like. Tightening my grip on my towel, I approach her tentatively. “Yeah, Coach? What’s up?”
Her jaw tenses, and she gazes down at her clipboard instead of looking at me.
I realize exactly where this is going before she even starts talking, but I can’t stop myself from squeaking, “Coach?”
“Listen, Mallory, I know Headmaster Aldridge told your guardian that you’d keep your spot on the team since all practices were cancelled over the break, but that was never his call to make. We’ve had some parents call in expressing concerns about your participation on the team.” She looks up at last, her gray eyes apologetic. “They’ve threatened to pull their kids from the team if you’re allowed to stay. I’m afraid I have no choice but to cut you.”
I hear the words coming out of her mouth, but it takes a few moments to fully comprehend her.
“I-I’m cut from the team?”
“I’m sorry, Ellis, it’s just that I don’t have much of a choice. You’re a talented swimmer, but you can’t make up for half my team.”
I get it, I do, but I’m still desperate to try and change her mind.
“What are the concerns they have?” I ask, my voice a little panicked. I already know the answer, but my lips keep moving, the words spilling out like vomit. “The parents? What did they say?”
Now, Coach looks uncomfortable. Inclining her head, she scratches at the underside of the tight bun she always wears at the nape of her neck. “The main concern was your alleged involvement in the fire that destroyed Angelle—”
“I didn’t set that goddamn fire, Coach!” I exclaim, then cringe at my outburst.
The last thing I need is to get sent to Aldridge’s office for cursing at a teacher. I might have been able to get away with it first semester, but this is a whole new world where I’m no longer just public enemy number one amongst my classmates.
Fortunately, Coach Friedricks seems to take pity on me as she moves her head from side to side. “I believe you, but at the end of the day, the parents want you gone and think you’re a danger to their kids. I really am sorry, Mallory. I know this isn’t fair, but my hands are tied. I have to think of the whole team right now, and what’s best for everyone.”