Chapter 15 #2
I scrubbed my face hard, almost roughly, wiping away that unfamiliar sultry look. When I looked up for the towel, my gaze caught the mirror. I froze.
A faint pink mark sat on the side of my neck. I leaned in, staring. It was light, like something had sucked there... No, had to be a bug bite. This time of year, mosquitoes still showed up. Someone sneaking into my apartment and marking my neck without me knowing? Less likely than bugs in winter.
I dug into my makeup bag on the sink and grabbed the foundation. I dabbed, patted, blended until the pink vanished. I turned my head side to side, checking—no trace. Finally, I breathed easy.
After washing up, I scarfed down a sandwich and hailed a cab to school. The office door barely opened before Sarah pounced like she'd locked on target.
"Anthea!" She kept her voice low, but her eyes sparkled with excitement. "You know what the whole school's buzzing about?"
"What?" I stashed my bag in the drawer, clueless.
"Yesterday at lunch, some suited hunk whisked you off in a fancy car." She dragged a chair over, plopping down with that gossip grin. "God, did some tycoon snag you?"
"Sarah!" I shot her a glare, but I knew she meant no harm.
I glanced around. Good, just us in the office.
"Kidding, kidding." She stuck out her tongue. "But seriously, what happened?"
I sighed, ready with my story. "Just a parent wanting to talk about their kid's progress. Invited me to lunch. Flashy, yeah, but some parents roll like that."
"Talk about progress? More like progress to the bedroom." A nasty voice cut in from the door.
I looked up. Marcus leaned on the frame, arms crossed, smirking in that creepy way.
"What'd you say?" My tone iced over.
"What'd I say?" Marcus sauntered in, eyes roaming me without shame. "Just that rich guys don't turn down easy lays, but they get bored fast."
His slimy stare and malice made my stomach turn.
"I said it's just normal parent stuff." I stood, facing him dead-on.
"Yeah, right. I know the games rich dudes play. Look at you, all glowy lately..."
Suddenly, he squinted, stepping closer like he'd spotted treasure. I backed up, my leg hitting the chair.
"Look what I found?" Marcus stared at my neck, grinning sleazily. "Anthea, that hickey on your neck's so dark even makeup can't hide it, and you're playing innocent? Sure that's 'normal'?"
Blood rushed to my head. I ignored how the foundation had smudged off somehow.
"It's a mosquito bite." I forced down my anger.
"Mosquito bite?" Marcus snorted. "Anthea, didn't peg you for this thirsty behind closed doors. Last night must've been wild, huh? Hooking up with a parent—against school rules. Not scared of getting fired?"
"Enough, Marcus." Sarah jumped up, stepping between us. "Got proof she's breaking rules? You're just spreading rumors."
Marcus's face twisted. "She knows what that mark is."
"It's a bug bite," I said, locking eyes, word by word. "Keep up this baseless slander and harassment, and I'll report you to the principal right now."
Marcus opened his mouth, but the bell rang.
"Lucky you, Anthea. But watch yourself—dirty secrets don't stay hidden."
He swaggered out.
The office went quiet. I unclenched my fists, seeing nail marks in my palms. His humiliating words echoed. My legs gave out, and I dropped into the chair.
"Anthea, you okay?" Sarah grabbed my hand, worried. "That asshole. One day I'll spike his coffee with laxatives!"
I forced a smile and shook my head.
"I'm fine, Sarah. Thanks."
But I wasn't. Shaking, I pulled a compact from my bag and checked the mark. The foundation had rubbed off some, the pink glaring on my skin.
A chill crawled up my spine. What if Marcus was right? What if it was really... No, couldn't be a hickey. I lived alone—how could someone mark me? Unless... someone broke in.
I snapped the mirror shut, forcing calm. I'd check the locks at home.
The day dragged. In class, I tried focusing, but worry grew like weeds. When the bell rang, I bolted from the room.
At the gate, a sleek Bentley idled. Olei stood by it, waving his little hand. "Anthea."
I hurried over. Before I could speak, the door swung open from inside.
"Get in," Silas ordered.
He wore a black suit today, hair groomed sharp, radiating that unavoidable intensity. I eyed the growing crowd and bit my lip, scooping Olei up and climbing in.
"You look off." His gaze hit my face, brow furrowing. "What happened?"
"Nothing," I said automatically, throat tight.
Yesterday's dream made facing him awkward and guilty. He didn't push, just stared. Those deep gray eyes cut through everything. I looked away. Silas dropped it, suggesting a new restaurant nearby. But I turned him down—I just wanted my apartment.
"Drop me at the nearest bus stop, thanks," I said, nixing his offer to drive me home.
"Your address." Silas's tone left no room for argument, like he'd wait forever.
"Oak Street." I gave in.
The car glided toward Oak Street. Olei sat between us, chattering away about the song he learned in music, the games in PE. His kid talk eased me a bit.
But Silas kept me on edge. He sat there, watching silently. Every glance made my heart race. Just sharing a car had me tense. Had to be that damn dream!
Streets blurred by. Minutes later, we pulled up to my building.
I turned. Olei had dozed off against Silas, face peaceful and sweet.
"He must be wiped from today," Silas said.
I nodded, ready to go. But he opened his door too.
"What're you doing?" I asked.
"Walking you up." He said it like it was obvious. "Bodyguard'll watch Olei. Let's go."
His confidence oddly reassured me. I spilled my fears.
"Silas." I hesitated, voice shaky with hindsight. "My place might not be secure. I think... someone got in."
His face stayed blank, but his eyes sharpened.
"What makes you think that?"
"Just..." I touched my neck, fingers brushing the covered skin. "Some traces."
He went quiet for seconds, then, "Come on, I'll check."
I followed quickly.
In the apartment, Silas inspected every window, every lock, moves pro-level.
"No pry marks." He turned to me. "But you're right—the setup's weak. Needs upgrades."
I exhaled. No break-in meant no intruder. The mark was just a bite. But—
"Upgrades?" I gave a wry smile. "Landlord won't go for it."
"Give me his number. I'll handle it." Silas held out his hand.
I paused, then fished out my phone. Found the contact and handed it over. He dialed, stepping aside. I caught his commanding tone, bits like "upgrades," "cost," "tonight."
The call lasted under two minutes.
"Done." He gave back the phone.
"You..." I clutched it, mouth open in shock. "What'd you say? He agreed that fast?"
"Persuasion skills." He looked at me, lips twitching up. "Calling guys in now."
He made a call on his own phone. I stood speechless. This man had a way—my big problems melted around him.
Soon, the doorbell rang. I opened it to uniformed workers with tools.
"Mr. Thorne." The lead guy nodded respectfully.
Silas stepped up and gave quick orders. They got to work, quiet and efficient—new locks, reinforced frames, some fancy security system.
I watched from the living room. About twenty minutes, they packed up and left. Just us now.
"How much is this?" I eyed the shiny new stuff, mentally adding up.
"Free." He met my gaze, deep gray eyes intense and warm in the light.
We stood close, close enough to see stubble on his jaw. My breath quickened.
"You didn't have to." I held his eyes. "Bottom line, we're nothing but Olei's biological parents."
He paused at my words, gaze on my face.
"You're Olei's teacher." He said.
I waited for more—that couldn't be the real reason.
But he stopped, and I had no right to pry. I needed distance.
"Thanks," I said, voice rough.
He watched me, something flickering in his eyes. Gone too quickly to catch.