Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
More feet hit the floors above, and I duck out in the morning sprinkle, combing my hair over the top of my head.
I’ll talk to her, keep the details light so as not to upset or worry her, and tell her she’s free to take anything she wants from the classroom. If it just feels like a bad idea, though—like it’s going to trigger one of her episodes—maybe I’ll just send a text.
Or leave a letter. I won’t know if she ends up hating me, but I don’t want to be responsible for setting her back.
But I’m no sooner cleaning the flyers out of my mailbox in the teachers’ lounge when Father McNealty stops in his tracks when he sees me.
“Mr. Jaeger,” he says.
I stop myself from wincing just in time—but talking to anyone is the last thing I want to do in the brief time I’m here.
“Would you step in, please?”
He gestures to his office and starts walking before I have a chance to come up with an excuse.
Once inside, I set my bag down next to a chair, start to lower myself into a seat, and hear him pick up the phone.
“He’s here,” he says.
I pause mid-squat, knowing who he’s speaking to.
He hangs up, I sit down, and I watch his eyes scale down my attire. The T-shirt probably has old grease stains on it. They all do.
“Are you firing me?” I ask.
It doesn’t matter, I guess. I wasn’t planning on needing recommendations to settle down anywhere else for a while.
Walking around his desk, he leans on the front, locks his hands in front of him, and pinches his brows at me. “Can you tell me why I would?”
“You people never need a reason to take things.”
Yeah, he’s been in my family’s life since we were born, and my father loved him, but he’s not Sanoa Bay and knows which side of the tracks most of his donations come from.
“I’m surprised I was ever hired at all,” I tell him. “Imagine your students finding out that they’re not the center of the universe and learning valuable skills like cooperation and tolerance.”
A smile curls his lips as he looks at me like I’m six and just said something ridiculous but mildly amusing.
“Tolerance.” He nods absently. “And how do you teach that?”
By setting an example. I’m not punching anyone right now, am I?
I don’t say that, though.
The door opens, and I smell the crisp, clean scent without even looking up to see if it’s him. Laying my ankle over the other knee, I tip my chin up as McNealty smiles at Callum and leaves.
“Thank you,” Callum tells him.
The door closes, and long black-clad legs stride in front of me, taking the priest’s spot in front of the desk.
Lifting my gaze, I fix him with a flat stare, trying to resist lingering on all the stuff I like. The blush on his cheeks. The skin on his neck. The deep blue in his eyes, and the fucking lowlights in his hair that he probably got to match the tan on his smooth skin.
The sex was good. Was he really pretending the whole time?
Did you play me?
“I’m glad you calmed over the weekend,” he says.
A glint hits my eyes, and I spot a silver rope chain against his chest, peeking out from his open shirt. My heart starts beating fast, my body flooding with heat; I’m too confused to appreciate how good he looks with it.
I’ve never seen him wear jewelry. I clench my teeth.
Who gave it to him?
“If you attack me,” he says, “it won’t end pretty for you.”
He can see the anger on my face, even if he doesn’t know why.
Whatever. None of this is worth my time, and I’ve certainly been zero help to anyone, so…
“What else can you take?” I retort. “I don’t care about this place. I don’t care about anything. I should’ve left years ago.”
Reaching down, I pull my keys out of my bag and slide the school key and my classroom key off the ring.
I toss them on the desk, and he turns his head, watching them tumble onto the mahogany.
“You’re not fired.” He picks up the keys. “Sophia would have my head.”
His eyes dance as he tosses the keys back at my chest. I catch them, glaring.
He tilts his head to the side. “I’m not trying to drive you out, Dallas.”
Isn’t he trying to drive us all out?
But he continues. “I love having you close. If you leave Sanoa Bay, what would I do with myself?”
He chuckles, and my face falls. So that’s what he wants? To continue to punish me and make me watch him turn our people into his demolition crew.
Realization dawns, and I should’ve known. He doesn’t want the Bay. He wants us under his thumb.
He stands up. “I’m meeting with lawyers today, but nothing has been put into place. For now, your family and community remain on the land.”