Pretty Dirty (Dirty Bad Things Book 2)(74)

But there was one way Amy and I were different. See, I told Hershman to get lost, enough so that he backed off, a little.

Amy wasn’t so strong.

Touching turned to more, and more. It turned to him telling her she had to “stay after” class for “extra tutoring. And I tried so hard to get her to tell me what was going on, but she’d slowly just shut down more and more, until one day, she wasn’t at school.

Or the next.

I’d finally gone to her house — a tiny little place her parents could probably barely afford in West Haven so they could get in-town resident tuition at Thornbull for Amy. I’d found her mother beside herself and Amy locked in her room. That’s the day I found out what Professor Hershman did to her, after school in a locked classroom.

Amy and her family moved after that. The police didn’t believe her, and when this town saw her parents’ income level, they turned a blind eye. Better they move anyways, for property values, right?

The day I found out, I went directly back to school and took revenge. I didn’t think, I’d just acted — grabbing the big cinderblock by the edge of the faculty parking lot, marching right up to his BMW, and bringing it down on his windshield as hard as I could, over and over, until it shattered.

And peeing on his car after — okay, that was gross maybe, but I’m not ashamed of it, and I’ve got zero apologies about it. Fuck him and his untouchable privilege.

He gave up trying anything with me after that, but I also don’t think it was a coincidence that he’s the teacher of one of the two classes I have this summer, just like it’s no surprise at all he failed me before graduation, despite my great grades in his class.

Sitting in his classroom again like this, the heat and the tingling feeling from earlier goes away. Instead, it’s replaced by anger, and fury, and maybe a little fear too. When he walks in, his eyes narrow at me, but his lips pull back in a horrible little weasel smile, like he’s glad I’m back under his thumb again.

“If you need to use the bathroom during class, Ms. Kensington, be sure to use the ladies room instead of the parking lot, okay?”

The class titters in laughter as Professor Hershman smiles wickedly at me. I feel my face burn, but I push it away.

“Try and keep up, Ms. Kensington,” Hershman sneers. “I’d hate to have you fail this class a second time.”

There’s more laughter around the room, but I force myself to take deep breaths and not bite the bait he’s hanging in front of my face.

“And if you need help, well...” He smiles, his eyes clearly undressing me in a way that makes my skin crawl.

“Well, you can always come to my office after hours.”

I spend the rest of the class with my hands clenched so tight in fists that my nails dig into my palms.



The cigarette shakes in my fingers as I take a slow pull from it. I’m in the girls room, after class, and I’m still shaking from having to be near that man for a whole double period class. The cigarette — yeah, I know. I don’t even smoke. In fact, these I literally found stuffed in the back of a filing cabinet in the library, and I’ve been stashing them there ever since. But there’s something about it that’s calming me, or sort of calming me, and settling the horrible knot in my stomach at having to face Hershman again, while thinking of Amy.

The cigarette tastes like shit anyways though, so I toss it into one of the toilets and wash my hands. I glance at the clock, and what I already know is confirmed: I’ve missed the bus home. I sigh, my breath coming shaky still as I meet my own eyes in the bathroom mirror. I decide to walk home.

I take another breath, tuck my hair back, grab my bag, and waltz out of the bathroom…

Right into him.

Christian.

My hands go flat against that hard-packed, muscled chest of his through his dress shirt, my breath catching as I’m instantly falling right against him.

His sharp blue eyes narrow even as his lips smile at me.

“You were smoking,” he growls, half amused, half angry-sounding.

“No, I wasn’t,” I say quickly.

I gasp as he pulls me tight against him, my skin coming alive and my body melting for him.

“Don’t lie to me, little princess,” he purrs. “Just the truth.”

His eyes lock onto mine, and I can feel myself getting lost in them. Finally, I sigh, giving up.

“Yeah, I was.”

He growls. “C’mon, Tempest.”

“It was a rough day okay?” I snap, and the sharpness in my voice seems to hit a nerve in him. He stiffens, eyes narrowing.

“That bad?”

“Well…” I grin, blushing. “Not the whole day.”

A hungry shadow crosses his face.

“It's just Professor Hershman,” I grumble. “I hate him, and that class.”

“You fucked up the man’s car, Tempest.”

I look away, saying nothing. It’s his voice in my ear that has me gasping, my body tingling and melting.

“Come on,” he purrs, his strong hand closing around my arm.

“What?”

“You missed the bus.”

“I’m walking.”

“No you aren’t,” he says flatly. “I’m driving you.”

I bite my lip, grinning. “I— I couldn’t impose—”