27. Jack
27
JACK
S loane looks so haunted, even as she fights me, which if that’s the only way she’ll let me hold onto her—and I put let me mildly—then she can fight me.
No matter what she says, this has become my business. My gender gets a bad rap, but no one can be around this woman for this long… get to touch her and be touched by her, to have her in bed with them… and not care about her.
And fuck, I’m feeling territorial and offended that her ex thinks this will work.
I tap Cole to sit with her. His steely, silent resolve will give her something steady to lean against because I cannot leave this alone.
In my car, I make another phone call to a lawyer friend, a high-powered attorney with outrageous rates and a no-loss case rate. She might not work child custody cases, but she can get me in touch with someone who’s a rock star at this kind of thing.
After giving her the rough rundown, she’s onboard and ready to put some feelers out for us. I don’t know if it will come down to a big court case or if simply having a top-notch lawyer put together some paperwork will be enough to get this abusive asshole to back the fuck off.
Finding his class schedule and office hours is easy enough. He’s in Psych 101 right now and will have an hour in his office afterward.
I’ll be waiting for him.
When I get to the school, my instincts tell me not to ambush him at his office, so I find his car, lean against the hood, and wait him out. He’s there ten minutes into his office hours, escorting a young woman who can’t be more than eighteen toward me.
The swoop of his salt and pepper hair looks intentionally messy, like he’s trying to use pomade to display himself as twenty years younger than he is. His trimmed beard is more gray than brown. His tailored suit—even though his jacket is a higher-end tweed—gives off the pompous air I expect of him.
He pauses when he sees me, turning to the girl and making some excuse that I can’t hear before she pouts and turns back toward Francis Hall. Alistair looks me up and down, assessing. I know what he sees.
What any hack psychologist will see when they look at me. A big brute who uses my size to intimidate. Therefore, I’m not going to be too hard to talk in circles. He takes my silent stare as confirmation that I’ll use my fists before I use my words.
He’s not completely wrong. I do use my size to intimidate when I have to. It’s the easiest option most of the time. And I certainly have no problem using my fists. But I’m far too smart to lay a hand on this man.
Even if I’d love to kill him and make his body disappear, that can create blowback on Sloane, and I don’t want to do that.
That’s why I have my phone recording in my pocket and a set of questions to ask him to press him into admitting something incriminating.
“Is there a reason you’re denting my car hood in particular?” A flash in his eyes tells me that he already knows who I am. How? Is he spying on Sloane? Keeping tabs?
Why haven’t we noticed?
“Yeah. Looking for you, Professor Alistair Fitzwilliam.”
“Doctor. Doctor Fitzwilliam.”
“My bad, Doc.” I nod at the girl still walking back toward the building. “A student of yours?”
“Indeed.” This douche is biting back a frown, trying to hide just how much I’m pissing him off already. “How did you know that was my car?”
“Just looked for the most pretentious one and knew I’d find you.” I spread my arms. “And look at that, it worked.”
His scoff is drowning in disdain. “Let me guess, you’re one of the three men Sloane’s run off with in this childish act of rebellion?”
Anger flares deep, molten hot, churning my insides with the desire to punch him square in the nose. I want to break it.
“I’m one of the men watching her back at work while we deal with an issue.”
Alistair brushes invisible lint off his jacket. “Is that what you want to call it? She works at a warehouse, deals with toilet paper and staplers. Why would three Navy SEALs need to swoop in to protect her unless they were getting something else out of it?”
My hands curl into fists, and he clocks it.
“Yeah. Thought so. You can’t fool me.” The asshole smirks. “I’ve been dealing with her wandering eye for five years. She’s impulsive, emotional, immature. Someone has to handle her life or she’d let it all fall apart.”
The person he’s describing sounds nothing like the Sloane I’ve come to know. Nothing like the one I first met at the warehouse. Nothing like the mom I see when she’s with Reese.
“When you say handling her life, you mean taking her money, giving her an allowance, putting her car and phone in your name? That kind of handling?” My hands slowly unclench, but I glare at him.
The opposition and accusation puff him up like a stupid peacock. “Sure, I managed the finances. Protected her from her own bad decisions. Used my good credit for lower interest and insurance rates. When she was earning pennies, it made her feel like an equal contributor. I tried to teach her how to budget properly. She wouldn't have survived without me.”
“Survived? You mean like hosting your parties while your buddies played grab ass with her, with her kid asleep upstairs?” And from the few things she’s shared about them, this douchebag used to dress her up provocatively and punish her for leading on his friends. Gave her no defense when they’d grab and paw at her.
“She’s exaggerating. Those parties were harmless, and my friends are respectable. If she was uncomfortable, that’s on her, not me.” Alistair crosses his arms, finally defensive.
“Respectable? You mean the same friends who objectified her while you stood by and did nothing? Must’ve been great for her self-esteem. You were helping her out a real ton.” My voice is hard, and it’s no act. I can see the malicious gleam in his eyes as he stares me down.
“She needs to grow up. If she didn’t want them breathing down her neck or hitting on her, she should have said so. No one’s going to step in and save her if she’s unwilling to do any of the work herself.”
“Sounds like that’s what you’re arguing you were trying to do for her all along.”
“Trying. And failing. She’s not the prized pupil I once thought. She should be thanking me for trying to help her at all. I certainly didn’t have to take her and her newborn daughter into my home when she had nowhere else to go, did I? And she was completely useless after.”
“Giving birth put her out for a bit after, go figure.” I bet one sleepless night would throw this asshat into a vindictive, manipulative place. I can see the truth of the simple stories Reese told me about him.
“She’s a lazy mom. Incompetent. Always needs help. She can’t do anything on her own. You’ll find out soon enough.”
I stand straight, feeling the front of his car scrape and grind as I lift my weight from it. It gives me a sick kind of satisfaction from it. “You used her. Controlled her. Treated her like she was incapable. And I hate to break it to you, but that’s not how helping works.”
Alistair points his finger at me, like a hoity civilian. They always point with their index instead of all four fingers and thumb. The great thing about that is, he’s pointing four fingers back at himself when he does it. Perfectly fucking symbolic.
“Watch yourself. You don’t know me. And you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A triumphant calm washes over me because I have this guy pegged. I know what buttons to push and where to dig to uncover a pattern of behavior. “I know enough. I know you’re used to being the smartest guy in the room. But here’s the thing—you’re predictable. And that’s going to make it really easy for Sloane to show the court who you really are.”
“We’ll see about that. You think you’re clever, but you’re just another one of her mistakes.”
I smile coldly. “Funny. That’s exactly what she said about you.”
Making the slow trek back to my car, I don’t let Alistair see that he’s gotten to me, and he has more than pissed me off. Narcissistic, womanizing bastard .
He knows I’m a SEAL. Knows we’re keeping her somewhere where he can’t get to her. How? I call Sterling to advise him of the fact, but he only grumbles out a “What did you do?” before he goes to look into it.
I didn’t dig into his life before because Sloane asked me not to, but now… I can’t leave it. I have connections in some high places, too, ones in the government that I will not hesitate to use to keep this asshole away from Sloane and Reese.
Especially since this guy preyed on her right after she turned eighteen, right after she had a kid, with no one else to help her. I bet he’s done it before, too, preying on his students with his facade of worldliness and wealth.
Parker will gladly dig into that can of worms. She’s got a penchant for those kinds of cases.
In my car, I make a series of calls to the people who either owe me a favor or are willing to extend me one for one in return. I’m going to fucking bury this dude.
After an hour of phone calls, Sterling rings me back. I bet he’s found a trace of Alistair’s spy.
“Get back to base now. Someone’s broken into Sloane’s desk and taken her notes.”