Chapter 98
Damien
Play - UNETHICAL by Faouzia
Aching to have you
Yes, I tracked her. I don't care what this looks like.
Is it a good thing? Maybe not. Will it stop me? Definitely not.
I know what goes on at her parties. I know the kind of people she lets orbit around her, the way she drifts instead of paying attention whenever she wants to forget.
Something could happen. That guy who came after her and Hayzel could be there, he could hurt her, or she just wouldn’t notice in time. She’d trust the wrong person again.
So yes, I tracked her.
She's in that bar downtown where the students often hang out.
That little bastard of Bennett is probably with them, and just thinking about it makes something ugly settle under my ribs.
Because I see him looking at her for too long during classes, trying to get any words out of her like he needs it to function again. I hate that I know that.
I park a few meters from the exit, and don’t get out. I just sit there, engine running, watching the door like something’s going to happen if I look away for one second.
I shouldn’t be here.
I knew that the moment I started paying attention to her more than necessary.
When I started recognizing her from a distance before I even saw her face.
Seeing her in everything she likes. In the way the ocean is always angry against the cliff, in the music that plays in my car anytime I drive.
I knew it when I noticed who stands too close, who talks too long, who looks at her like they’re allowed to do so.
They’re not, and that’s the problem. I don’t have a reason for why that bothers me this much. She’s not mine. I shouldn’t want her. I just don’t want anyone else to have the parts of her she doesn’t even realize she gives away.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel, and I take a long breath before getting out of the car. Being here is such a big fucking mistake but I truly don’t give a flying fuck about it.
The music is so loud, it bleeds out into the street, into my head, making everything feel more wrong. I should leave. But she’s in there, laughing, probably, not paying attention, letting people get close. Letting them think they can.
I hear a sound that I recognize immediately. Her voice… I see Bennett before I see her, then her, and then his fucking hand. Something small and folded is sitting in between his fingers, offered like it’s nothing. She doesn’t even hesitate enough. He wants her to snort it.
And I move like my body is begging to ruin his stupid face.
Bennett hits the wall and my hand is already on his collar, holding him there before anything else can catch up. The small bag of white powder falls from his grip. I don’t care what it is.
“What the hell—”
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Bennett.”
He exhales, straightens slightly against the wall, then he smiles. “Relax,” he says, glancing past me like I’m just an inconvenience in his way. “She was just talking to me.” Just talking.
My grip tightens once as he tilts his head, still smiling. “Professor,” he adds.
“I’ve known her longer than you’ve been in this city,” he says lightly, still pressed to the wall. “You don’t get to tell me what to do with her.”
I finally look at him properly, “I’m not going to tell you anything,” I continue. “I’m going to make sure you understand it.” I push him deeper into the wall until his smile disappears, “You don’t approach her like that again,” I say. “You don’t stand that close. You don’t risk her fucking safety.”
“Or what—” he starts but I cut him off before he finishes.
“Or I’ll beat the soul out of you,” I say, calm enough that it almost doesn’t sound like a threat at all. He stops smiling properly.
“Are you serious, right now?” Mireya says behind me. “Both of you, stop this fucking stupid fight.”
This bastard swallows, but still tries to hold onto his arrogance. “Yeah Mister Caldwell, stop. She can talk to whoever she wants.”
That’s when I lean in slightly, close enough that only he hears me properly. “You think this is about permission? You think I need permission to fucking punch you to the point where no one would ever recognize you again?” I ask quietly.
A voice cuts in from the side.
“What is going on here?”
Hayzel. She’s already approaching, already reading the scene in one glance. She looks at him. Then at me. Then at her. And she understands enough.
She grabs Bennett’s arm from the side, pulling him out of my grip. “I’ve got him,” she says flatly. “You’re done here.”
“Wait—what? No, I didn’t do anything—”
“Yes, you did,” she cuts him off. She pulls him away from the wall before it escalates further and as she passes, she looks at me once. Then she says, calmly, “I’m taking him inside.” And she disappears with him into the bar.
Silence drops instantly. Now it’s just me and her. She’s staring at me like she’s trying to understand what version of me she’s looking at.
If I’m angry at her too. And fuck I am. I’m mad, sick to see her destroy herself with people who don’t deserve to see her like that. Sad and begging for anything to stop whatever is hurting her inside. And I’m even angrier that she tried to push me away.
“He just wanted to say sorry, the bag was not mine,” she starts, confused between relief and anger.
“You just pushed him,” she says, voice tight.
“In front of everyone.” I let go of my hand fully, and slowly, resetting something in myself.
“You’re my professor,” she says. “Do you realize how this looks?”
I finally look at her fully. “I know exactly how it looks.” A beat. “And I don’t fucking care.”
“Nothing happened, why are you so angry?” She asks, already putting distance between us. “Why are you even here?”
“Oh so the fucking bag was a hallucination?” I spit out, meaner than I wanted to. “What the fuck do you think he’s doing? You think he wants to help by poisoning you?”
Cold. It’s cold again. Why is it cold ? Why am I scared ?
She takes a small step back. “Leave, now. Leave me the fuck ALONE!”
Leaving her alone?
I can’t do that. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that.