Chapter Two #2
“Kalen, enough,” the teacher chastises.
“Sorry, Mum, but she is your future daughter-in-law.” The class laughs loudly at this and the teacher shakes her head, looking like she’s struggling to hold back a smile. I stand frozen. Kalen’s mum is the teacher?
I take a seat in the front row, the only row with any spare seats, and within five seconds Kalen drops down into the seat to the left of mine and throws an arm over my shoulder.
“I will only tell you this once,” I whisper, hoping his mum doesn’t hear as she paces the room talking about bullying. “Touch me again without my express permission, and I will hurt you.” He laughs but makes no attempt to remove his arm.
“Ugh, for fuck's sake, don’t touch me!” I snap and push his arm off.
“Miss Rossi, pack up your things and go to the principal's office.” The teacher’s glare at me would be sharp enough to cut through glass.
“You’re shitting me, right?” I cry throwing my hands in the air. I always was one for theatrics. I blame the Italian blood on my father’s side.
“I assure you, I’m not ‘shitting you’,” she says, mocking my Australian accent, which infuriates me.
She hands me a slip whilst I curse under my breath about how ridiculous this school is. I make a point of slamming the door extra hard on my way out. Susan directs me in her monotone voice through this maze of fucking hallways, straight to the office.
I walk in and spot a very attractive dark-haired guy seated on one of the white plastic chairs that line the wall.
I presume they are there for students waiting to see the principal.
He watches me with dark hooded eyes as I storm over to the desk the administration lady sits behind, and slam the slip down in front of her.
She barely looks up from the computer screen.
“Take a seat,” is all she says.
Huffing in frustration, I turn and take a seat furthest from the boy who looks like an angel but reeks of sin.
I surreptitiously study him from beneath my long lashes, and I decide that my initial assessment of him was right.
I can almost see sin pouring from his eyes, like tears of a fallen angel.
The distance between us doesn’t stop him from staring, his eyes as black as I imagine his soul is.
The door to the principal's office opens and a girl walks out wiping tears from her eyes. The mysterious boy chuckles.
The principal - aka my almost stepfather - Monty Knox glares at the boy before looking my way.
“Amelie, in my office,” he says brusquely.
I stand, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.
The black-eyed boy watches me. I wink at him as I pass by.
Monty ushers me into his office, pulling out a big leather chair for me to sit on, before he rounds his massive wooden desk and takes his seat.
His silence gives me time to take in my surroundings whilst he briefly checks something on his computer.
I have a habit of noticing all the possible exits in a room.
One door, four windows, all of which look like they are bolted shut.
But I think the glass could easily be broken with a bookend from the massive bookcase that lines the entire back wall. Maybe. I’m pretty strong.
“I wouldn’t suggest making friends with Baxter Branson, he isn’t the best company to keep.” That’s the opening gambit my stepdaddy decides to go with? Telling me who to be ‘friends’ with? Like I’m going to listen. The dark angel outside just got a whole lot more appealing.
“I don’t know, he seems like my kind of person,” I only say that since he made a point to start our interaction with a warning.
Clearly, my mother hadn't informed him of the company I kept back home. I get why my mother would have wanted out. I just don’t understand why she couldn’t have taken her children with her, but I’ve come to terms with that now.
Almost. The people I grew up around may not be law abiding citizens, but they care about me and would do anything for me.
“I’m sure you’re aware this is a school for children who have taken a wrong turn in life.
..some of their crimes are worse than others.
I suggest you be careful of the company you keep.
” I raise a brow at him, wanting to throw out comments about their so-called clean slates, but I keep them to myself.
“Now I hear you made quite an entrance into your SELF class.”
This I can’t keep quiet about.
“Yes, your son doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself and I made it clear that I would mess up his pretty face if he touched me again.
Which he did, by the way. And I didn’t even punch him.
But obviously your ex must favour him, because I got sent out for reacting and he didn’t, even though that’s clearly assault.
” His brows pull together. I don’t think he knew that it was Kalen that was also involved.
“And your ex also took the piss out of my accent!” I tell him.
His frown deepens, but he doesn’t pull me up on my bad language like I expected him to.
“Kalen is a very friendly boy, but I assure you we do not tolerate that kind of behaviour here. I will follow up with him, but I have to punish you for your outburst. I run a tight ship here, and I will not make exceptions, even for my own sons and stepdaughter.” He pauses, takes a deep breath and continues, “But in this instance...what if, when you come over for Sunday dinners, you pretend to actually want to be there, and give your mother a chance?”
He slides a credit card across his desk and I look at it, then back at him. This must be some kind of unspoken bribe.
I take a deep breath. How dare he try to manipulate me? “The fake smile I can do, but the 'giving her a chance part', I won’t promise.”
“I can work with that. Send Baxter in on your way out.” He doesn’t say anything else, so I grab the card and the four-digit pin scrawled on the piece of paper with it, and leave. I’m not opposed to the money kind of bribes. Besides, you never know when it might come in handy.
Walking out into the waiting area, I see Baxter is still slouched in the chair spinning an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “You have been summoned, oh dark and sinful one,” I tell him, bowing low and winking at him when I rise.
That earns me a smirk that only a psychopath would give. I love it.