Hetch (Men OF S.W.A.T #1)(110)

Walking back around my desk, I take a large breath, hoping it calms my beating heart before sitting. I watch as he folds himself into the small grade-school chair, and I hold back a smile at how ridiculous he looks. I address Zayden’s dad first, not certain if his wife relayed what I told her over the phone.

“I’m not sure what your wife has told you, Mr. Knight.”

“Ex-wife,” he interrupts me, his tone telling me that I need to remember that.

“Right, okay,” I continue, ignoring the pleasure I get from hearing he isn’t married.

“Well, as I was telling your ex-wife, Zayden was involved in an altercation with another student today,” I tell him, looking over at Mr. Hill and his son. “Ending with Tommy’s black eye.”

“This true, Z?” Hot biker dad turns, looking at his son.

In my head, hot biker shouldn’t be in my vocabulary, but with his long legs outstretched in front of my desk, the sexy-as-sin riding boots crossed over at the ankle, and the way I hear the leather move when he turns to look at Z, I can’t help call him anything but.

“Yeah, Dad,” Zayden replies, his eyes lowered.

“Your son is a menace just like your club, Knight, and I won’t allow him to bully my kid in class. I want something done about it!” Mr. Hill yells, standing from his seat.

I’m not surprised by Mr. Hill’s outburst; he’s been sitting on the edge of his seat, ready to chew someone’s head off for the last twenty minutes. Yeah, I value my time too, but that’s not Mr. Knight’s fault; he came when he found out. I don’t know why I’m siding with him. I should be more concerned for Mr. Hill’s wellbeing when Mr. Knight stands from his own seat and takes a rather large step toward him.

“Excuse me, I was talkin’ to my boy. I'll address you when he explains to me why he saw fit to put his hands on your son,” Mr. Knight pushes out with gritted teeth. Fuck, he even speaks sexy biker. What the hell is sexy biker? Get it together, Kadence.

Sensing the situation could get out of hand, I stand. “Mr. Knight, Mr. Hill, please sit down,” I demand, hoping the slight tremor I feel doesn’t show.

Mr. Hill sits first, obviously realizing he is in over his head with the fuming badass.

“You wanna give me a moment to talk with my boy?” Mr. Knight asks, looking over at me. I don’t know why I do it, but I nod my head and sit back in my chair. I watch him spare one more look at Mr. Hill, a silent warning to keep his mouth shut.

Jesus, how can he be the one in control right now?

“Now, you wanna tell me why you put your hands on someone, Z?” He squats down in front of his son’s chair, arms stretched out to keep him steady, his muscled arms bulging under the strain of their position. I can make out the large Knights Rebels tattoo and I wonder what else he has hidden under his clothes.

“Tommy was pulling Sarah’s hair, told her she was a whore like her mom. I told him to quit it but he started on me. You always said if someone puts their hands on me, I’m allowed to stand up for myself,” he responds quietly, calmly, given that the two hundred-pound man is squatting in front of him, scowling something fierce. I look at Tommy and see his face is ashen at Zayden’s confession.

“Is this true?” Mr. Hill turns to look at Tommy, who sinks further into his chair.

“I was only saying what you told me,” he answers back.

Mr. Hill looks up at me; a small amount of embarrassment fills his cheeks as I raise my eyebrows.

Sarah’s mom works over at Bare Assets, our local strip club in town. I have no problem with the place. Holly, my best friend, likes to drag me along sometimes for ladies' night. It’s a well-respected establishment, and as far as I know, Sarah’s mom works the bar, not a pole. What an *.

Awkward silence fills the room as I look between the two fathers. Mr. Hill looks down at his hands while Mr. Knight holds my gaze. His eyes show anger, no doubt at Mr. Hill, but I’m drawn to the intensity of it, like a fond memory pulling me in. I drag my eyes away, needing to break the connection, not prepared to let those feelings back in.

“Okay, well, regardless of the reasons, we still have a policy here that fighting is not allowed. Because both boys engaged in the fighting, they will both be given afterschool detention for five days.”

Considering both boys have never been in trouble for fighting, I thought I would give them a chance to sort it out here before taking it to Principal Wilson. That guy is a real schmuck, no doubt suspending them on their first offense. Yes, Z was defending himself, but Tommy is the one with a swollen eye. Sending them home for three days off won’t fix the problem.

Mr. Knight scoffs and then shakes his head, clearly not happy with the punishment. He looks over to his son, giving him a wink before turning back to me. His blatant disregard for the rules don’t surprise me, and I can’t help but call him on it.

“I hope from that wink, Mr. Knight, you're not condoning this behavior?” I challenge, cutting him off before he can begin to argue my decision.

“Listen, Mrs. —”

“Miss Turner,” I correct him the same way he did me.

“Miss Turner.” His deep, gravelly voice exaggerates the Miss and I hold back the need to roll my eyes at his insinuation.

“No, I don’t condone violence. I will, however, be proud of my son if he stands up for someone who can’t stand up for themselves.”