A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(81)

“Come in.”

Jack smiled when he saw Kat peer around the doorframe. “Miss Lane,” he said, standing from his seat. “Good to see you. What can I do for you?”

Kat bit her lip and allowed her body to slide gradually into the room. She closed the door, grasping the handle as if her life depended on it.

Jack looked concerned. “Are you all right?”

Kat tried to smile back, to reassure him, but it fell flat. She cleared her throat and rubbed the back of her neck. “I need to ask you a hypothetical question,” she muttered.

Jack frowned. “Hypothetical.” Kat nodded. “Well,” Jack continued, “I’ll certainly do my best.”

He gestured for Kat to take a seat before he sat back down and placed the papers he’d been reading back into a folder. Kat slinked over to a chair and sat down. This was hell. She fisted her hands in her lap and averted her eyes. She never behaved like this. She was usually so sure and steadfast.

“Miss Lane,” Jack said, sitting forward. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes,” she rasped through a dry throat. “I was just— I was—”

“Did Carter do something wrong?”

Kat shook her head. No. Everything Carter had done had been oh so right.

“I saw him yesterday,” Jack continued. “He seemed anxious about something. Wouldn’t tell me what it was, of course—”

“Who do I speak to about quitting as his tutor?”

The words tumbled from her mouth with such speed, she was amazed they came out in the correct order. As the words settled around them, all she felt was pain. Not physically, but emotionally. She was angry at herself for asking the question she never thought she would. Her eyes became blurry, but she swallowed the tears. She’d done enough crying to last her a lifetime.

“Why would you want that?” Jack asked in a soft voice. “Are you sure he didn’t do something?”

The smile that tugged at Kat’s lips was weak but reassuring. “I’m sure,” she murmured. “Who do I speak to and what are the procedures?”

“Kat,” he said, “why do you want this?” He held his hand up when she started to jump in with an answer. “What I mean is if he hasn’t done anything wrong, or violated the conditions of his parole, how are you going to justify quitting as his tutor?”

Kat closed her mouth, defeat skating down her neck.

“The fact is,” Jack continued, “if you want to quit as his tutor—and you have every right to, if you so wish—you have to give just cause to the board.”

“Really?” she asked in a voice that was quiet and beaten.

Jack rested his elbows on the desk. “It will cause questions, and I’m not sure you’d want to answer them.”

Well. That was that.

“Kat, if I may?” Jack made to stand and gestured toward the chair at Kat’s side.

“Sure,” she replied, watching him come around his desk and sit down next to her.

“I don’t want to upset you with what I want to say.”

“It’s okay, Jack. I’m willing to listen to just about anything right now.”

Jack cleared his throat and fiddled with his tie clasp. “It’s clear that you two are … fond of each other. But if you and Carter are involved in a relationship that is more than simply teacher/student, then I have to warn you. I have to tell you that, even with Carter on parole, you’re still working for the prison, and, as such, you’re contravening the teacher code of the facility, including the non-fraternization policy you agreed to and signed, as well as placing yourself at risk of prosecution.”