Chapter 13
Thirteen
Allison
Walking into my classroom makes my heart start to pound. It's as if this isn't mine anymore. Logan took the place I thought of as my sanctuary and turned it into a place that I don't love.
So now I have to figure out a way to love this place again.
The only way for me to do that is for me to teach in it. Teaching is the thing that saved me during my divorce. When my ex-husband and I couldn't stand to be around one another I'd retreat to this room, and I'd spend hours in peace.
This room has been my sanctuary, and Logan ruined that.
Now, I'm going to take it back.
I take a deep breath and step inside, flipping on the lights. Everything looks the same as it did before. The same posters on the walls, the same desks in their rows, the same whiteboard with remnants of equations I'd written before everything happened. But it feels different. Wrong somehow.
I walk to my desk and set down my bag, my hands shaking slightly. Then I force myself to look at the spot where Logan came through the door. He's not standing there right now. But I can see it anyway. I can see him holding the gun, the way his eyes were on me.
Counting to ten, I breathe deeply. In through my nose, out through my mouth. It's the technique my therapist taught me years ago, and it works now just like it did then. By the time I get to ten, my hands have stopped shaking.
I can do this. I have to do this.
The first students start trickling in about ten minutes before the bell. They're quieter than usual, watching me with uncertain eyes like they're not sure how to act. I recognize the look. It's the same one people gave me after my divorce, that mixture of pity and curiosity.
"Good morning," I say, forcing brightness into my voice. "I hope you all kept up with the substitute's assignments."
A few of them smile, and the tension in the room eases slightly. Then Keegan Thompson walks in, and his face lights up when he sees me.
"Ms. Allison!" He crosses the room quickly. "You're back!"
"I am." I smile at him, genuinely happy to see his familiar face. Keegan works at Saint's Outlaws garage, which means he knows Dime, knows exactly what happened, and probably knows more than he should about a lot of things. Especially since his dad is a cop, too.
"I'm really glad," he says quietly, so only I can hear. "We were all worried about you."
"I'm okay. Better than okay, actually."
He nods, understanding passing between us. Then he takes his seat, and the rest of the class filters in. By the time the bell rings, every desk is full, and they're all looking at me expectantly.
"Alright," I say, standing in front of my desk. "I know you all probably have questions about what happened, and I'm not going to pretend like it didn't happen. But I'm also not going to dwell on it. What I am going to do is teach you literature, just like I always have. So let's get started."
I launch into the lesson I'd prepared, discussing the symbolism in the novel they've been reading.
At first, the students are hesitant. But as the class progresses, they relax.
They start raising their hands, debating themes, making connections I hadn't even considered. Which is why I love this class.
It's why I teach. Not for the curriculum or the standards, but for these moments when students light up with understanding.
The period flies by, and when the bell rings, several students come up to my desk.
"I missed you, Ms. Allison," a girl named Sarah says.
"We all did," another student adds. "The substitute was nice, but she wasn't you."
My throat gets tight. "Thank you. That means more than you know."
They file out, and the next class comes in. Then the next. Each period is the same. Students telling me they're glad I'm back, that they missed me, that the classroom wasn't the same without me. By lunch, I'm exhausted but also feeling more like myself than I have in days.
I'm eating a sandwich at my desk when Principal Harrison stops by.
"How's it going?" she asks, leaning against the doorframe.
"Good. Really good, actually." I set down my sandwich. "The kids have been amazing."
"They love you. We all do." She smiles. "I told you this place isn't the same without you."
We chat for a few more minutes, and then she leaves me to finish my lunch. I'm scrolling through my phone, looking at a text from Dime asking how my day is going, when I hear footsteps in the hallway.
I look up, and my heart stops.
Logan Matthews is standing in my doorway.
He looks different than he did the last time I saw him. Thinner, paler, with dark circles under his eyes. But it's definitely him.
"Ms. Allison," he says, and his voice cracks. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
I stand up, my chair scraping against the floor. "Logan, you shouldn't be here."
"I know, but I had to tell you. I had to say I'm sorry for what happened, for what I put you through." Tears are streaming down his face now. "I never meant for any of this to happen."
My hands are shaking again, and I can feel panic rising in my chest. But before I can respond, Chief Harrison appears behind Logan.
"Mr. Matthews," he says, his voice firm but not unkind. "You need to leave. Now."
"But I just wanted to apologize—"
"And you have. Now leave before I call your parents and tell them you violated the conditions of your return to school."
Logan looks back at me one more time, his face crumpling. "I'm sorry," he says again, and then Chief Harrison is guiding him away.
I sink back into my chair, my whole body trembling. Chief Harrison returns a moment later, closing my classroom door behind him.
"You okay?" he asks.
"I don't know." I press my hands to my face. "He just showed up. I didn't know what to do."
"You did exactly what you should have done. You didn't engage, you didn't get emotional, you just asked him to leave." He pulls a chair over and sits down across from my desk. "For what it's worth, I think his apology was genuine. The kid's been through hell, and he knows what he did."
"That doesn't make it better."
"No, it doesn't. But it might help you understand that he's not some monster. He's just a kid who made a terrible mistake."
I nod, even though I'm not sure I agree. Maybe Logan is just a kid. Maybe he did make a mistake. But that mistake almost cost me my sense of safety, my sanctuary, my ability to do the job I love.
"I'll make sure he doesn't come near you again," Chief Harrison says. "He's been assigned a different class schedule, and I've instructed his teachers to keep him away from this hallway."
"Thank you."
He stands up, giving me a reassuring smile. "You're doing great, Allison. Don't let this shake you."
The rest of the day passes without incident. My afternoon classes go well, and by the time the final bell rings, I'm feeling steadier. I pack up my things, say goodbye to a few students who linger, and head out to the parking lot.
Dime's truck is already there, and he's leaning against the driver's side door, looking like every romance novel bad boy come to life.
The jeans on his hips are tight enough to show off his muscles, but are baggy enough to give him a disheveled look.
A hat turned backward on his head drags my attention to his chiseled jaw, and the t-shirt over his torso is just right. When he sees me, his face lights up.
"How was your day?" he asks as I approach.
"It was good. Really good, actually." I drop my bag and walk into his arms. "There was a moment where Logan showed up and tried to apologize, but Chief Harrison handled it."
I feel him tense. "Logan came to your classroom?"
"Just for a minute. Chief Harrison got rid of him before anything could happen."
"I'm going to kill that kid," he mutters.
"No, you're not." I pull back and look up at him. "You're going to take me home, and we're going to have a normal evening."
"Actually," he says, his expression shifting to something more careful, "I was thinking we'd have dinner at the clubhouse tonight. Devil's cooking, and Dani's going to be there. Might be good to be around people."
I study his face, and I can tell there's something he's not saying. But I also know that pushing him won't get me anywhere. So I just nod.
"Okay. Dinner at the clubhouse sounds good."
He kisses me, soft and sweet, right there in the school parking lot. "I'm proud of you," he murmurs against my lips. "For going back today, for being strong."
"I had a good reason to be strong." I kiss him again. "You."
We get in the truck, and as we drive toward the clubhouse, I rest my hand on his thigh. He covers it with his own, and we ride in comfortable silence.
Whatever's happening tonight, whatever reason Dime has for wanting us at the clubhouse, I trust him. I trust that he's doing what he thinks is best, that he's trying to protect me even when I don't know what I need protecting from.
And for now, that's enough.
The clubhouse comes into view, and I can see several bikes parked outside. More than usual for a weeknight. Dime parks the truck, and we head inside together.
Devil's in the kitchen, just like Dime said, and the smell of good food fills the air. Dani's sitting at the bar, and when she sees me, she jumps up.
"How was your first day back?" she asks, pulling me into a hug.
"It was good. Scary at first, but good."
"I'm so glad."
Storm and Lee are at one of the tables, along with a few other club members I recognize. They all nod at me when I walk in, and I feel welcomed in a way I haven't before. Like I'm not just Dime's girlfriend. Like I'm part of this family.
We eat dinner together, laughing and telling stories. Devil's cooking is incredible, and I find myself relaxing into the evening. Whatever tension I felt from Dime earlier seems to have dissipated, and by the time we're done eating, I'm full and content.
This is what family feels like, I realize. Not the family you're born into, but the family you choose. The people who show up for you, who care about you, who make you feel like you belong.
And as I sit there with Dime's arm around me and Dani laughing at one of Devil's terrible jokes, I know I've found exactly where I'm supposed to be.