Chapter Nine
Cal
T he class goes from laughing and cutting up to utter silence when I saunter into the room. Most of these kids were at Campfire Chaos. Little wannabe Hornets. I stop at the front of the class, skimming my gaze over each and every one of them. Several girls blush when my eyes pass over them with disinterest.
“Be ready to work your ass off or fail. Your choice.” A few kids snigger as I set my bag down on top of my desk. “Open your Chromebooks and start the pretest I’ve loaded. You have the class period to work on it, but I want it submitted when the bell rings.”
“What about the syllabus?” someone asks. “Usually the teachers go over it the first day.”
“You can go over it for homework. We’re not taking class time to do it,” I bark out.
A guy named Otis raises his hand like an idiot.
“What?” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Do we call you Cal?”
Charlotte chooses this moment to enter the classroom. Her chin is lifted, an impassive expression on her face. If I didn’t see tears in her eyes moments before, I would’ve never known she was trembling like a leaf.
“What do they call me, Miss English?” I ask, my eyebrow arched.
Her nostrils flare, but she meets my stare without faltering. “Mr. Hutton.”
The sarcastic, bitchy way she says it has my blood boiling. I’d almost felt sorry for her in the stairwell when she thought I was a piece of shit like Cuntingham. Not now. I point to the empty seat up front and then take my seat behind my desk. Yesterday, I came up to the classroom and got it ready. When Karen said she needed a teacher, I felt like it’d kill a few birds with one stone. I needed a job for one. Being able to keep an eye on Sonya is a major plus. Finally, I can keep tabs on the mega bitch who nearly killed my best friend.
I don’t give Charlotte the lesson instruction, but she’s smart. She’ll figure it out. With a quick glance at the girl next to her, she figures out what she’s supposed to be doing and pulls out her Chromebook. Where most of the kids are still cutting up or staring my way, Charlotte has already gotten to work. While she works, I study her features one by one.
Intelligent, intense blue eyes.
Cute, perky nose.
A mouth I spend a little too much time staring at.
She’s different than I last saw her when she was trying to steal her brother’s pain pills. For one, her long hair has been cut into a stylish, shorter way that makes her seem a little older than her eighteen years. Her makeup isn’t overly done, just enough to highlight her big blue eyes and juicy dick sucking lips.
My cock twitches to my annoyance. It’s not my fault I notice girls’ lips. I like getting head and can usually tell who’ll be good at it based on the shape and softness of their lips. And almost always, those lips match those between their thighs. I suppress a groan. I don’t want to think about Charlotte’s fucking cunt.
Dragging my gaze away from her sexy mouth, I lock eyes with the girl next to her. Her cheeks blaze crimson. She makes a great show of crossing her legs, letting her skirt ride up to expose her thighs. As soon as she sees that I notice, she raises her hand.
“What?”
She doesn’t bristle at my harsh question. Charlotte looks up from her assignment, frowning my way.
“I have a question. Can I come ask it?” the girl purrs.
I give her a clipped nod. The girl slides out of her seat, sashaying my way. Her top is low-cut and when she reaches my desk, she leans forward, giving me a prime view of her cleavage.
“What’s your name?” I demand.
“Heidi Fulton.” She bites down on her thin bottom lip. “I’m really bad at math. Do you offer any tutoring after school?” Her eyes drop down to my crotch. “Or ways I could earn extra credit?”
“Miss Fulton,” I state in a cold tone, “are you propositioning a teacher?”
She bats her lashes, unfazed. “It’s just you, Cal.”
“Go to the office.”
Her smile falls. “What? Why?”
“Dress code.”
Heidi recoils as though I’ve struck her. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“We can see your red panties, Heidi Ho,” a dude named Joey calls out. “Seriously. Desperate much?”
The girl glowers at me and I shrug. She stomps over to her desk, throwing her shit into her bag, and then storms from the room. I pull out my laptop and then shoot Karen an email to be expecting the bitch—though I say it in a more appropriate way—who’ll need to borrow some gym clothes for the rest of the day. When I look back at Charlotte, she’s focused on her computer.
I’ll give it to her. She’s trying. We were all a part of her life until she got mixed up with Ryan. I’m not stupid. I know how he infected and ruined her. It’s her fault, though, for being so fucking weak. She’s not weak, yet she let him make her that way. And because of it, Trey had to pay.
She seems okay now. Rehab was good to her. But after seeing her with Wes this morning, I wonder for how long she’ll be okay. He somehow got to Roux and the shit he tried to pull on her still makes me see red. One of these days, I’m going to get that motherfucker back. Seeing him with Charlotte was jarring. As much as I hate this bitch, I hate him a thousand times more. He’s a weasel rapist. Had I not intervened… He’d be dead. Jordy and Roan would have murdered his ass. Hell, I almost did. If this asshole gets the chance, he’ll do it again, and the way he had his eyes set on Charlotte tells me all I need to know. He thinks it’ll be her next.
I should warn her.
Be the good guy.
Fuck that.
I have my own agenda with Charlotte. Doesn’t mean I can’t warn off Wes, though. If he touches her, I’ll bash his fucking skull in with my boot. I’ll make sure he knows not to fuck with her or else.
Charlotte closes her Chromebook long before everyone else. She has a smug smile on her face. It annoys me. She flunked out last year because she fucked up her life. This shouldn’t be easy for her. I click onto the digital classroom dashboard and find the submitted pretests. Hers is the only one so far. I press on her name, quickly glancing over the 50/50 grade to skim through her answers.
Interesting.
So she’s a smart nerd like the rat?
I grit my teeth and load the homework assignment plus an extra credit one that’s hard as shit. The other students begin to populate as they submit their pretests the closer to the bell we get. The average grade is a 30/50.
Before the bell rings, I stand and address the class. “Homework and extra credit. Most of you are going to need it. Come to class with your heads on tomorrow. No more goofing around.”
The bell rings and people gather their things, getting ready to leave. Charlotte moves quickly, no doubt eager to bail. Just as she stands, I call her name.
A crease forms between her eyebrows as she frowns at me. Like a good little mouse she approaches me. She’s much shorter than me, so she has to crane her head up to look at me. I inhale her scent. Some perfume I don’t recognize, but one that I like. Unfortunately. She arches a blond brow in question.
“Did you cheat?” I taunt, knowing full well she didn’t.
She rolls her eyes. “Can we have a truce or are you going to really do this?”
“We’re doing this,” I say with a wolfish grin. “I promised you, English, we were going to do this. I’m a lot of things. A player. An asshole. A smartass. But what I’m not is a liar. When I promise something, I always make good on it.”
“I could transfer,” she threatens. “Tell Aunt Karen you’re a dick.”
“She knows I’m a dick,” I tell her with a shrug. “I spent more time in her office getting my ass reamed than I ever did in class.”
“You’re obnoxious,” she grumbles. “I have to get to class.”
“You have Ewing?”
Her features soften. “Literature.”
“Careful, blondie,” I say, dropping my gaze to her lips. “He likes to play with little girls.”
She smirks, taking a step backward. “Good thing I’m not one.”
Like fuck she ain’t.
The girl is young and small and innocent.
When she reaches the door, she looks over her shoulder, holds up her middle finger, kisses the pad of her finger, and blows me a kiss. My stupid dick reacts to her sassy act.
“Detention,” I threaten.
She just fucking laughs.
The moment he enters the teacher’s lounge, he knows he’s fucked up. This is the first time I’ve been alone with him since the whole Roux incident. To say he’s been avoiding me is an understatement.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Ewing,” I say in a menacing tone. “Rape any little girls today?”
He flinches, looking over his shoulder. “I didn’t rape anyone.”
I approach, taking joy in the fact he cowers beneath my imposing form. “Yet.”
“Whatever, man,” he grumbles, attempting to sidestep me.
Grabbing his stupid tie, I twist it in my fist, drawing him to my face. “If I see you as much as look at anyone at this school, I will go to your house and drown you in your fucking bathtub.”
His eyes widen and he swallows. “I’m not touching anyone!”
“Damn right,” I growl. “Don’t go near Charlotte.”
I shove him away from me when we hear voices just outside the door. Now that he feels safe, he straightens and backs himself toward the exit.
“Charlotte failed,” he says. “Technically she’s an adult.”
I am going to murder this fucker.
“Last I checked, rape is illegal in all states, dickwad.”
“It’s not rape if she wants it,” he sneers.
With those maddening words, he bolts out of the teacher’s lounge. So help me, if that piece of shit touches her, I am going to skin him alive.
Why?
Because she’s mine to torment.
She and I have beef. Beef that doesn’t involve anyone else. Just us. This is our thing and I won’t have some pathetic sleazeball fucking with what’s mine.
I hate that warmth spreads through my veins at that thought.
Mine.
It’s not like I’m blind. She’s hot and has a banging body. Legal too. If I didn’t hate her guts, I’d be down to fuck that bitch any day of the week.
But our circumstances are different.
I don’t plan on fucking her.
I just want to fuck with her.
I’ll be damned if I let Wes Ewing change that.