Malice

I’m careful to maintain a calm demeanor as I reply, “I’ve told you everything I can, Dylan. The lab blew. It was a freak thing, and James was … he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Bullshit,” he snarls.

“Can I please just have my homework so I can go?” I want to get as far away from him as humanly possible.

“How did you survive?” he snaps. “How did you know not to be in the house before the explosion?”

“I didn’t know,” I insist, sticking to the same story I told the cops a year ago. “Je

“I don’t believe that,” he says, shaking his head wildly. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Dylan, I wish I could go back and change that night,” I reply with every bit of sincerity I can muster. “I wish I could go back and stop James from going into the house. I wish I could’ve told him I wasn’t in there. I wish I could do that night over as much as I wish I could redo homecoming night.”

His eyes widen slightly, and I think I’ve caught him off guard. I haven’t dared to say a word about our affair until now, but he’s pushed me too far. Homecoming night had been the first time we’d slept together. Dylan had been a chaperone, and I’d gone to the dance with James. Up until then, Dylan and I had been flirting and teasing each other pretty heavily. I’d been blown away that an intelligent, handsome, sophisticated man had been interested in me.

Halfway through the dance, I’d slipped away from James, claiming I’d needed to use the bathroom. Dylan had followed me and pulled me into his classroom. He’d had a sofa in the back of the room. It was supposed to be a chill place for students to relax and talk or some bullshit like that. I gave him my virginity on that couch, and he’d come inside me.

I shudder at the memory of that night. At the consequences of my stupidity and his arrogance.

He meets my gaze as he snarls, “I wish that night had never happened either, but that’s what you do. You ruin lives.”

Except homecoming night wasn’t just my fault. He dragged me to his classroom. He convinced me it wasn’t wrong. He begged me not to tell anyone because they wouldn’t understand and that we’d only get in trouble.

Moving to his desk, he picks up a stack of papers and thrusts them toward me. I snatch them from him without a word and then turn to walk out of his classroom.

I’m so consumed by my thoughts and the shame pummeling me, I nearly run into Saint, who’s standing just outside the door.

I gasp and meet his cold gaze.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my heart thundering.

He holds my stare for several moments before he glances toward the classroom door. His shoulders tense as he tells me in a gravelly voice, “I figured it out.”

He abruptly walks away from me, and I’m left terrified as I realize he’s now in possession of the rest of my secret.