Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Dean Anderson
A s much as I want to throttle the girl within an inch of her life, there’s something about her tone, the hesitancy in her voice that gives me pause. There’s something more here. Something deeper.
Her breasts heave as she sits there, looking almost ill. Dammit. I didn’t want to have to deal with Doctor Bradley today. Unfortunately, if she continues to sit there looking like death warmed over, I might have to intervene.
“Ashleigh,” I bark out, desperate to pierce the fog gathering around her. “Talk to me.”
As she turns, her gaze hardens just a touch, as if she remembers why she was so angry in the first place. “Something’s wrong, and this administration is just too stupid or complicit to see that.”
“Now listen here, young lady-“
“No!” The strident note in her voice cuts me to the core as she stands back up and shoves a finger in my chest. “You listen. If you think one frat overdosing is the end of it, you’re wrong. Dead wrong. There are more victims than him. All I have to do is uncover them. Then you’ll have no choice but to listen.”
My gut clenches as my mind drifts back to the body we recovered in the hedge maze. Could she possibly know about that one and is just waiting for the right time to bring it up? Hell, is she wanting to sit on this to make yet another sensational article? Something to stir the students to riot?
As much as I hate giving her any leeway, I have to back down for the moment. I need her to feel safe enough to let things slip. Then, and only then, will I be able to trap her.
If she does have any information on the actual confirmed murder, that means she either had a hand in it, knew about it, or was in contact with someone who does. Possibly all three. It might also mean it’s not as simple as one of Louis’s boys playing ‘protector’ over Marnie.
“I’m listening.”
“No, you’re not,” she spits out. “You’re just placating me. I won’t stand for it. I’m not an idiot here. I know exactly what’s going on.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise as she paces in front of my desk. She knows something. In my gut, I know it as if it’s a confirmed fact.
“I’m not your father. I’m not merely trying to get you to shut up. Please. What information do you have? I’m sure it can be very helpful in this investigation.”
For a moment, she stops and stares at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Yep. Hit a nerve. And dammit all, I’ll do it again if it gets her to open that mouth of hers.
“There’s still an investigation? You haven’t swept this under the rug yet?”
“Things like this don’t go away so easily.” Granted, with having members of the local police also be members of The Society, it certainly helps things. Not that she’ll ever know that.
“Funny. I thought you would have squashed it by now.” She tilts her head to the side, as if confused. “Unless you do think there was foul play also.”
This time, it’s my turn to be confused. So she’s not talking about the murder at all. Does this mean she really doesn’t know? “Are we still talking about the overdose?”
Her nose crinkles in that adorable way that never fails to make my balls clench and my dick pulse. “Yes. What else would I be talking about? Wait. Did something else happen? You have to tell me. Off the record, of course.”
A smirk lifts the edges of my lips. “I don’t think anything I ever say to you will be off the record, my little fae loopholer.”
Though it’s wildly inappropriate of me to call her my anything, I hope such a small endearment might offset her enough that she’ll forget all about this exchange between us. The very last thing I need is for her to get mucked up in all of this. Especially if the Ravens and Wolves were involved.
As I hoped, a soft hint of red washes over her cheeks as she ducks her head a bit. “I’m not all that bad. I promise. I really need to know. Please.”
That one word is like a punch to the gut. It nearly trembles from her lips as she leans forward, her gaze trained on me as if I hold all the answers to her unspoken need. A fucking wet dream come to life.
“Is that a hint of desperation I hear in your voice?” Unfortunately, I can’t seem to keep the growl of satisfaction out of mine.
How I so long to hear that sound again but in a far different capacity. It doesn’t take my imagination long to picture her underneath me, body red from a disciplinary session I’m sure she deserved, her eyes shining with need. ‘Please.’ Just hearing that soft beg in her tone, that needy whine at the back of her throat.
God, I have it bad. Forget her seeing Doctor Andrew. I might have to make a visit as well. I can’t allow myself to keep getting pulled under her spell. And yet, when I look at her, all I can see are her wide eyes just silently begging me.
“And if it is?” This time, her voice is soft.
Long gone is the strident, argumentative tone. That’s enough to help me sober up.
A heavy sigh flits from my lips as I make my way back around to sit at my desk. How easy would it be to scoop her up into my arms and have her just sit on my lap as I rock away whatever demons chase her?
“I can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”
“It’s Marnie. I mean. I know you don’t know her-“
“Dupire?”
Please. Please don’t let this be about Marnie Dupire. The last fucking thing I need is for an innocent girl like Ashleigh to get caught up in all this secret society Ravens and Wolves mess. Again, her nose scrunches, giving me just a glimmer of hope as she pulls out her phone.
“Yes. Dupire. But how did you-“
“She pulled out of her classes so she could deal with a family emergency. With all students who leave, I’m made aware so I can decide whether or not to cut them completely or hold things until they can come back.”
Fuck it all. Of course, this involves Marnie fucking Dupire. I know Louis told me to drop it, but now that I have a nosey little reporter asking about her, he’ll need to know.
“Oh.” Her voice is so small, so soft, I nearly miss it.
“Not the answer you were expecting?”
“No. It’s not that. I mean... She basically said the same thing.”
My chest loosens a touch as I expel a deep breath. “She’s been in contact with you?”
“Yes, but it’s weird.”
“Show me.”
As if she’s the perfect, most dutiful submissive, she rises from her chair and walks over. No fighting, no fussing, just pure obedience. Fuck, it’s gets me just as hard as when she brats against me.
“If you look at the messages before and then the ones from today, the tone is all different. The cadence is wrong. The word choices are just crass. I... It’s not the Marnie I got to know. But then, how much can you really learn about a person in the beginning of a semester?”
I can hear the unspoken questions in her voice. It doesn’t take a genius to know what she’s really asking, what she so desperately wants me to say. She wants me to give a reason for it all, to confirm that Marnie is okay, and to corroborate her brain in believing that she just didn’t know the girl.
How I wish I could give her those answers, but I don’t know her either. I have no words of wisdom I can give to make this all better. Damn Louis. Damn the Order of Ravens and Wolves. Most of all, damn me for wanting to gather Ashleigh into my arms and give her so many other things to think about.
Instead of allowing my baser urges to muddle my brain, I put my attention to the screen. I can see what she means. It’s as if two different people texted from this number.
“What do you think it all means?” I inquire, not wishing to give her any further ammunition.
“I think she was also a victim that night. I’m worried her ‘family emergency’ is her having to go detox. Why else would she act like this? Isn’t that how people in detox respond? Don’t they lash out at people?”
An odd tiredness slides over me as I run my hand over my face. At least she’s not worried about anything major. Honestly, I suppose my mind is just running away with me at this point. Somehow, I’ve convinced myself that she knows all about their secret society and is close to finding out mine.
Foolish, I know.
Another sigh slips through my lips as I lean back in my chair. “I can’t speak to what she does in her spare time, but I’m almost positive she didn’t get any drugs at the party. My guess is she’s actually in the middle of an emergency and not in a very good mood. Now that this part of the mystery is concluded, it’s time to see to your punishment.”
I never expect anyone to just stand there and take what’s coming, but as Ashleigh rises, her back ramrod as she stiffens up by my desk, that sinking feeling comes over me again. Last time, she seemed curious, almost welcoming as I took my paddle to her backside. Now, she stares at me with her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“How do you know she didn’t get any drugs? Were you there? Did you see what happened?”
“This again? It’s as if you have some odd conspiracy theory about what went on that night. Please enlighten me. Though nothing you say will spare my rod on your backside.”
Even though that pretty flush reddens her cheeks again, she takes in a deep breath to begin her tirade. “You don’t think it’s at all odd that only one person overdosed and no one else had any effect, as if they’ve taken anything?”
“They don’t pay me to think about what’s odd and what’s not. They pay me to hire professionals to make those conclusions.”
“Then let me see the police report. ME’s report. Something!”
“I’m sorry. Is this a sitcom? Do you think I can just produce these things in midair at your insistence? Once more, you seem to be under the misapprehension that I’m here to serve you, to obey your every whim. That’s not the case, and the sooner you get that through your head, the better.”
“And you don’t seem to understand that I can just go look for the police report myself. All crimes and incidents reported on a university campus must be reported. According to the Clery act, if a school wishes to continue to receive federal funding, they must keep a daily log and other reports.”
The little spitfire has a point. It’s a wrong point, but I can’t help the burgeoning admiration for her as she stands there spouting her research. Until now, I thought she was just play acting at all of this, but it seems as if she’s serious. She earnestly wishes to find the truth and won’t stop until she has it.
“I must admit you are right, Miss Hartwell.” I certainly don’t miss the smug tilt to her chin. “Unfortunately, you are also wrong.”
This seems to have taken her aback a bit. “Wrong? I’m not wrong. I researched this myself.”
“Ahh, but did you also research Loftry a bit better? We do not receive federal funding. No such logs are required here.”
For a moment, she merely stares at me, her jaw slightly slack and her eyes wide. “But... But...” she sputters, scrolling through her phone. “You can’t just brush this under the rug.”
“And we’re not. I actually resent how little you seem to think we’re doing to figure this out. Just because we’re not airing out half-concocted details or salacious ideology, it doesn’t mean we’re not taking this seriously. I still have police and other investigators looking into it.”
“My article wasn’t half-concocted or salacious. I presented the facts I had,” she hisses, crossing her arms as she glares at me.
“Right. Facts of a case that’s not even concluded. And how can you say it’s not salacious when it obviously had a slant?”
This time, her jaw drops fully, as if I’ve given her the most heinous insult I could have concocted. “Slant? You’re accusing me of a slant when you’re not even considering the possible ramifications of just one student being drugged? Are you really that narrow minded?”
Shaking my head, I ignore her little rant and go over to my armoire. Now that I’ve already planted the seed in her mind about a cane, I can use it on her with impunity. But which one should I use? Should I be kind and start with something a bit thicker?
It would certainly leave an impression and possibly make some pretty bruises as well. However, the thinner ones will no doubt get my point across even faster. Most of the submissives I’ve disciplined absolutely hated the skinny canes.
They seemed to prefer nearly any punishment over that one. As I trail my fingers over the rattan, I realize it doesn’t really matter at this point. All I want is to strip this girl bare and leave my marks upon her skin. Stepping further behind the door, I cup myself and stifle the groan threatening to give away my deviant desires.
Then again, she did say I was narrow-minded. Best to show her what narrow gets her. I run my fingers over the lot and choose something in the middle. It will certainly have enough heft to make a point, but enough sting to satisfy my need for her to feel pain.