Chapter 3
Three
Nova
Zeke has trouble sleeping. I keep him company until Harper relieves me of babysitting duty. He’s curled up in the middle of their mattress while my father and Dante deal with the mess in the hallway.
My head spins from today’s events.
I never thought Harper had it in her to pull the trigger. I didn’t even know she knew how to use a gun.
I rub Zeke’s back as he finally falls to sleep. I’m hesitant to move off the mattress, concerned that the slightest shift might wake him.
The poor kid has been through hell today.
Thunder cracks overhead, and the storm hasn’t let up any, either.
In slumber, Zeke stirs and whimpers. I pull the covers up tighter around him, trying to offer him as much comfort as I can while he sleeps.
The bedroom door creaks open, and Luca pokes his head in before stepping into the room.
Slowly, I rise from the bed, careful not to wake Zeke before heading toward the door.
Luca’s voice is soft, hardly above a whisper. “Thanks for getting him down.”
It wasn’t easy. “Sure. How’s Harper?” I ask and glance over my shoulder when Zeke begins to stir.
“She’ll be all right.” He pats my shoulder, and I sneak quietly out of his bedroom, letting him tend to Zeke while I head back into sheer chaos.
Moreno is covering the body with a giant sheet of plastic. Ashton offers his assistance as I glare at him for getting more involved.
He’s wearing gloves, but that doesn’t mean he’s not leaving DNA all over the body. Anger simmers in my veins.
Maybe calling my dad wasn’t the best idea, but Harper wanting to call the police was a far worse suggestion.
“Aren’t you going to help them?” I growl at Dante as he scrolls through his phone, looking bored.
“I am. Someone needs to bring in a crew to clean up the place, and if that bloodstain doesn’t come out with a good cleaning, you’ll need new carpeting. Not to mention the window.”
“I’m going to send Simone and Rhys out tomorrow to replace the window when the storm clears,” Moreno says. He grunts as they wrap the body in a thick sheet of plastic, rolling him up tight.
“How are we getting this guy to your car without anyone noticing?” Ashton asks. “There’s cops crawling around outside asking questions.”
“You’re not carrying his dead body anywhere!” I growl, stepping closer. “Dante needs to get his ass off the phone and help my father deal with the situation.”
Dante glances up from his phone and slides it into his jacket pocket. The man always wears a suit and tie. I swear he probably goes to sleep in the same clothes. It’s always a black suit, never dark gray or navy blue. He wears one color: death.
My father’s eyes widen. “Nova!” he scolds. I shouldn’t have expected anything less. Even if he agrees with me, he probably wouldn’t admit as much in front of his boss.
“I’m not a child,” I remind him.
There’s a hint of amusement on Dante’s face. “Ashton works for me, same as your father. If you’d like to join the ranks—”
“I’d sooner die than come work for you,” I spit out and realize my mistake. I bite my bottom lip and take a tentative step back.
Dante doesn’t look the least bit pleased with my outburst. I’ve always been careful not to sass the boss. My father, on the other hand, I have no problem standing up to him.
He laughs under his breath, tilting his head, his eyes boring into mine. “Give it time, they all come crawling to me for help. Remember, you called us, Nova.”
My eye twitches and my mouth is parched. I part my lips, but no sound comes out. What can I say when he’s right? I did reach out to my father.
“Ashton, did you see the mail that you got from the Student Conduct Office?”
He drops his hold on the plastic-wrapped body and curses.
“It’s fine,” Moreno grumbles. “I need to head out to the car.” He stalks around the plastic and toward the front door, opening it and staring outside at the deluge.
Yeah, I wouldn’t want to go out in that mess, either.
“Maybe we wait a few minutes,” Moreno mutters, glancing back at Dante as he shuts the door. “It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”
Ashton heads toward the mail which is piled on the counter and digs through until he finds the letter I was referring to.
Exhaling a heavy sigh, he tears the letter open, and his gaze tightens.
My stomach flops. “Not good news?”
“When does a letter from the Student Conduct Office ever result in good news?” He glances at me. “It’s about Henry.” Ashton shows me the letter and I glance it over, briefly reading the official document.
The letter contains the alleged policy violation and the incident details. Slowly, I glance up at Ashton, my stomach a bundle of knots. “What are you going to do?”
“Attend the formal hearing and dispute the charges.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking a bit flustered. “It mentions that I can provide witnesses and evidence.” Ashton meets my stare, hopeful yet tentative. Almost like he’s afraid to ask.
“I’ll be there.” I reach for Ashton’s hand, giving it a squeeze. He shouldn’t have to worry about his future at the university because of me. With a resigned sigh, I grumble under my breath, “This is my fault.”
He scoffs, not pleased after hearing my remark. “It’s Henry’s fault. I should have gone over his head.”
“You still can. I mean, tomorrow we can take this letter to the dean, explain everything, try to make it all go away.”
Ashton grimaces, slowly pulling his hand away as he studies the letter carefully, as if reading it a second or third time will reveal a hidden secret. “I think it’s too late for that. I’m going to have to deal with it. There’s already a date set for the hearing.”
“And I’ll be there.”
He reaches out, his thumb grazing my cheek as he cups my jaw. “I feel terrible dragging you back into this mess.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Ashton grits between clenched teeth and releases his hold on me.
He steps away, the anger seeping off him like waves of steam.
“Henry never should have said that your ‘no’ absolutely means ‘yes’. He’s a fucking pig, and in his position of power as a teaching assistant, he shouldn’t have even asked you out! ”
I grimace, and Dad clears his throat.
“How much did you hear?” I glance up at him. I didn’t even notice he was eavesdropping, but leave it to my father to get the last word in.
“Enough to know something is going on with my daughter.” Dad glares at me. “Sit.” He nods toward the sofa.
The room feels smaller now that he knows, like the secret is no longer contained.
Grumbling, I collapse on the couch while he stands above me, glowering. “I want the entire story, now,” he snaps at me.
Sighing, I glance at Ashton, hoping that maybe he’ll protect me from having to answer.
“If you plan on being a witness, you might as well get used to giving your side,” Ashton says, and folds his arms across his chest.
He’s not helping matters.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and hang my head for a second, gathering my thoughts. “The teaching assistant asked me out to lunch after returning my pop quiz, which I failed.”
“You failed an exam?” Dad doesn’t look pleased and seems to be hung up on the last part, not the first.
I hold up a hand. “Are you going to interrupt me, or can I finish?”
He nods for me to go on.
“It turns out my answers were all accurate. Ashton and I compared our quizzes later that afternoon.”
“I’m not seeing how Ashton is the one to blame yet.” Dad glares at me and then at Ashton, his jaw tight.
Dante watches from the hallway, listening in, growing interested in our little story time.
“I ran into Henry on my way to class.” Ashton purses his lips and then takes a seat next to me on the sofa. He rests a hand on my thigh, and I capture his hand, intertwining our fingers together. “He said a few colorful things that I didn’t like.”
“So, you assaulted him,” Dante quips. There’s no disgust or disappointment in his tone. It’s just a matter of fact.
“Well, yes, but only after he made it clear that he wouldn’t leave Nova alone, that girls liked playing hard to get and telling him no, and that he would have sex with whomever he wanted, including Nova. Because to him, ‘no’ didn’t mean ‘no’ at all.”
Dad’s face reddens, and his hands are clenched at his sides. “What’s Henry’s last name?” he grits between clenched teeth.
I glance nervously at Ashton, feeling the tension crackle in the air. Ashton hesitates, eyes darting to me and then back to Dad.
Shaking my head no, I implore him not to tell Dad, but he snatches the letter from the table where Ashton deposited it and glances it over.
“Henry Bennett,” Dad grumbles, displeased that Ashton or I didn’t give the information up willingly as he’d have liked.
The name hangs between us, heavy and threatening.
What does he plan on doing to Henry?
There’s a charged silence before Dante finally steps forward from the hallway, his presence somehow both reassuring and intimidating. “Henry will no longer be an issue.”
Oh, shit.
“Dad, please don’t make this worse for Ashton.”