Chapter 24
Edmundo
“Iknow what you’re going to say,” I said as Paul closed me in with him.
“No, I really don’t think you do,” he snarled at me as he marched around his desk and yanked open a drawer, revealing a bottle of whiskey. “What the hell was that?”
He poured himself a shot and drank it down before hitting me with his glare.
“Are you going to give me one of those?”
“I’m debating. I don’t like you at the moment. Fucking guns in my school,” Paul said, shaking his head. “I’ve always treated you as my friend, and given you far more information than I should. And this…this is how you repay me?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, rubbing my chin.
“Are you?”
He shook his head again and grabbed another glass. Pouring two drinks, he walked over to the desk and sat down.
“Sit.”
“You suit this role well,” I teased.
“This isn’t funny. I sent you that text to warn you that he was in town. So that you could intercept him once he was off Wayward property. Instead, you flew off the handle and stormed in here, making it my goddamn business. Fuck, Eddie…do you know what you almost made me do?”
Sighing, I picked up the whiskey and took a sip. The burn helped settle my still shaky nerves and simmering rage.
“I thought I had my anger toward Vadin under control,” I said, admitting the flaw that I rarely spoke about out loud.
“Apparently, you still need to work on it,” Paul grumbled, gulping down a mouthful of his drink.
“No one was hurt other than Vadin’s ego.”
“That is not the point. I run a tight ship here. I do not allow anyone to make a scene like that without retribution. I can’t sweep this under the rug. Almost every student on the property saw what happened, and by now their families know as well.”
He polished off his drink and slammed the glass down on his desk.
It was tough to push Paul to this level of anger, but my good friend was livid to the point of boiling. I didn’t blame him. I’d fucked up.
“You’re the only one who knows who I really am, what my role is, and everything else that I’m not supposed to share with anyone. I’ve trusted you with that information, and we’ve maintained a respectful back and forth over the years that has been mutually beneficial.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“Tell me, what do I write in my report about this when I’m asked how you knew Vadin was here?”
“Leave that part out. I was here to have lunch with my daughter and saw his guards outside. I recognized one of them and lost it.”
“That’s weak.”
I shrugged. “But also, plausible.” I held out my hand. “Give me the burner, I’ll get you a new one.”
Paul produced a litany of swear words that I hadn’t heard out of his mouth since we were teens. Opening the top drawer of his desk, he pulled out the simple, black phone and put it in my hand, but didn’t let go.
“I’m already toeing a perilous line where Nash is concerned and my involvement in his life. If I’m caught helping you, any of you…they will kill me,” Paul said, and let go.
I stared at the cellphone in my hand and made sure to feel its weight. I’d jeopardized more than the element of surprise where Vadin was concerned, or Christov, for that matter. I’d put my friend’s life in danger, and that was unacceptable.
“I won’t kill him, yet. I’ll let the heat die down until suspicion is no longer on you,” I offered.
He lifted a brow.
“That’s a great personal sacrifice and is appreciated.
But…I also won’t be able to help you for a while.
I’ll write my report as you stated. I didn’t know you were coming to visit, and things got out of control.
You’ve been warned that there will be consequences if something like this ever occurs again, and that I’ll make sure you’re watched over the next sixty days to ensure that Wayward is not linked to any interfering rumors. ”
Paul slowly stood from the desk, and I followed his lead, doing up my jacket.
“You know the lengths I will go for you, but don’t ever cross the line again,” Paul said.
“I won’t.”
“I mean it, no matter what,” Paul said, and I hated it when my friend dropped hints like that. They always followed with something I wasn’t going to like.
“I’ve fucked up something else you were going to tell me, haven’t I?”
He didn’t respond, merely stared at me.
“Fuck,” I growled, more pissed with myself and my momentary lack of control. This was why I kept my shit together when I wanted to put a fist through the wall.
“Vadin won’t be able to come onto school property for at least three weeks. That’s the max I can offer at this time unless Ren says she doesn’t want him here. She’s an adult now, and married, so either she or Nash will need to speak to me for anything more than that.”
“Understood.”
“Mr. Genovese,” Paul called my name as I reached the door, and I knew that whatever he said next was for the office to hear…aka…the ears of the Curators.
They transcribed every incident and handed it over to Paul for submission. They probably already had what I’d done, just waiting for a signature. What a mess.
“I expect the formal apology regarding this incident to be in my inbox by tomorrow morning. This was completely unacceptable behavior.”
I smirked at Paul, making him raise an eyebrow. I’d really missed him. Sobering my expression, I stepped out into the main office where Marcus waited for me.
“You have my deepest apologies, Dean Henry. It will never happen again, and I’ll be sure to have that letter to you tonight. I came to have a nice lunch with my daughter and created quite a scene. I’m disgusted with my behavior.”
Turning, I walked out with Marcus beside me.
The entrance hall was quiet now, but I still glanced around, hoping to see either of my daughters.
Marcus didn’t say a word until we got in the SUV.
“What are we going to do about Vadin?”
“Nothing. Not yet anyway.”
He looked at me.
“I can’t kill him now without putting Paul’s life at risk, and I won’t do that for a personal vendetta.”
I took a deep breath, trying to rein in the anger that still hadn’t settled. Apparently, you were never too old to be triggered, and Vadin was mine.
He had stolen my dream, had tried to crush Ana’s spirit, and then forced her to marry an abuser. Vadin had kept me from a life with Ana and Lilya…he wouldn’t take any more from me. And he certainly wouldn’t insert himself into Lilya’s life.
I’d been patient for twenty-one years since he stabbed me in the back. I could wait a few more months, and then, I’d put a bullet right between his eyes.
Vadin Mikhailov would not leave American soil alive.