Present

 

“I didn’t do it.” Zane Mullins sits sprawled out across from me, a smirk tugging at his lips. I know the fucker did it because the camera footage says so.

“Destroying school property is grounds for expulsion,” I say with a heavy sigh.

He runs his fingers through his messy black hair and shrugs. “I don’t like going to school anyway. Hawkins is an asshole.”

“Don’t curse,” I grumble. He’s right, though. Jake Hawkins is an asshole. But he’s this school’s basketball coach and valued by most people in this town. “Destroying school property when you’re eighteen years old means we could have you arrested.”

This gets his attention.

He sits up, no longer in a slouched position, and frowns. “Dude, don’t be like that.”

I straighten my tie before standing. “You can’t write derogatory statements on Coach Hawkins’ office door. Bottom line. Or on anyone’s door for that matter.”

“So it’s just like that? You’re going to call Sheriff McMahon and have me taken to jail?” he demands, his tone increasing with anger.

I scrub at my unshaven jaw and glance out the window. We’ve been back from the Christmas break three days and Zane is already on my radar. This kid stays in my office and for some reason, I keep giving him chances.

“Zane, you can’t keep doing this without punishment.”

“Whatever, man,” he grumbles.

For a brief moment, his hard features soften. He’s the kid who three years ago led the basketball team to a championship, despite being a freshman. His next season, though, he broke his leg and his basketball career went down the toilet. Gone was the smiling, athletic kid. Now we have this bitter prick who lives to terrorize everyone, especially Hawkins.

“What do you propose I do?”

At this, he rolls his eyes. “You’re the principal. Do what you want.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it as I mull over what I want to do. He needs guidance. The kid is spinning and spinning. I need to stop this.

“Sit tight,” I instruct as I stride from my office.

Leah Compton, my secretary, brightens when I stick my head out the door. “Can I help you, sir?” She pushes her chest out a bit, but I ignore her. Leah’s been flirting with me for five years, ever since she came to work at Brown High School. I never return her advances because she’s fucking married, for crying out loud.

“Can you get Kerry to come see me? Tell her to bring Zane Mullins’ file.”

At the mention of our new guidance counselor, Kerry Bowden, her smile falls. “Of course.”

Ever since Kerry got hired on, Leah acts as though she’s a threat to whatever it is she thinks is going to happen between her and me. Truth is, neither one of them is a threat. I don’t date married chicks, and I’m not into dating my staff either. Tough shit for both women.

While we wait, I take a seat, ignoring the always burning pain in my thigh and behind my knee. Taking those bullets was one of the scariest days of my life. Not a day goes by where I don’t remember.

“How’d you get those scars?” Zane asks, his voice unusually soft.

I glance up to see him staring at the left side of my face. They’re mostly not noticeable. One might think they were acne scars or something at first glance. Each day, I carry another reminder of that fateful day. When my face was shredded by dirt and rocks. The flesh is mottled and uneven, but the pink has long since faded. I can grow a beard on my cheeks if I want and years ago I did to hide. Now I don’t give a fuck anymore.

“Afghanistan,” I say.

His brows lift in surprise. “Ouch.”

I give him a forced smile. The door to my office opens and Kerry steps in. Today she’s wearing a fitted pencil skirt and flowing white blouse that accentuates her full tits. Her blond hair has been twisted into a tight bun and her black-rimmed glasses help her achieve a hot librarian look. She’s pretty, I’ll give her that, and had I met her in a bar or something, I would’ve asked her out. But she works for me and I don’t fucking go there.

“Good afternoon, Principal Renner,” she greets, her cheeks blossoming pink for a moment before she regards Zane. “Mr. Mullins.”

He stares at her tits long enough that she pulls the file up to block his view.

“Have a seat,” I instruct and motion to the chair next to our school’s biggest troublemaker.

She sits on the edge of the seat and flashes a polite smile Zane’s way. “What can I help you with?”

“How are his grades?”

“All right,” Zane answers.

I lift a brow in question as Kerry flips through the files. “Mostly Bs and a couple of Cs.”

Color me surprised. “Can the Cs be brought up to Bs?”

“Considering they’re in PE and algebra, I think so.”

“I fucking hate PE,” he grumbles, earning a gasp from Kerry.

My leg burns and I sympathize with him. Injuries are no joke. They sometimes follow you for decades or even your lifetime. I can see how it might be hard on a kid like Zane.

“Change his elective,” I tell her. “I want him out of PE. Make him an administrative assistant here in the office. He can help Leah, you, and myself.” I glance up at him. “Stop cursing or I’ll make you write an essay on the evolution of curse words in different cultures and eras.”

“Fine, man,” he huffs.

Her lips purse together like she might argue with my instructions, but she decides to bite her tongue. “Is that all?”

“What’s the deal with algebra?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “It’s stupid easy.”

“Stupid easy?” I challenge. “If it were stupid easy, you wouldn’t be making a C.”

“I don’t care anymore. I told Ms. Hogg I already knew all of the work, but she didn’t believe me. So now I don’t care.” He shrugs his shoulders again as if this solves the problem.

“Pull him from Hogg and put him in Long’s class,” I instruct.

This time, she argues. “Coach Long teaches AP pre-calculus. If he’s doing poorly there, how will he keep up in that class?”

I rub at the tension on the back of my neck before pinning them each with a stern glare. “Long will keep him in line and I’ll have him keep me updated on his progress. I want Zane meeting with you every Monday after school to go over his grades and his plans for college.”

“I’m not going,” Zane tells me.

“Yes,” I grunt, “you are.”

He glowers at me. “This is stupid.”

“This is my requirement if you want to keep from getting arrested,” I bark out, making Kerry jump.

“Whatever,” he concedes.

“Every Monday?” she questions, suppressing a look of distaste.

“And then I want you to see about getting Coach Long to train with him.”

“I can’t run track!” Zane’s outburst has him heaving, his face burning red.

I lean across my desk. “Then you’ll walk the track.”

“Unbelievable,” he mutters.

“When I got hit over in Afghanistan, I wasn’t sure I’d walk again. You have to keep your body moving. With Coach Long, I’ll see to it that you’re with him a little a few days a week so he can work with you one on one. You won’t have a whole class full of people watching you.”

His anger melts away and he gives me a clipped nod. “Fine. Anything else, Warden?”

I chuckle. “Nope. Now get out of my office and don’t cause any more trouble. I really don’t want to have to call your dad.”

The three of us all tense slightly. Zane Mullins’ father, Felix, is a district attorney who’s running for the state senate seat. I went to high school with him and hated his guts back then. Age has only made him more of an asshole. He thinks he owns this town and everyone in it because he has money. A pain in the fucking rear.

“Tell Hawkins to stop riding my ass,” he snaps.

I let his curse word go. “Hawkins won’t be your problem anymore. Coach Long will be.” I smirk at him. Despite Everett Long being tougher and broodier, he’s actually a great teacher and coach. He’d be a good role model for Zane. Hawkins is a whiney bastard who cheats on his wife any chance he gets. I don’t have much respect for Hawkins.

“Miss Bowden, keep me posted on his progress. I want him graduating on the honor roll. And I definitely want his future plans laid out in concrete by the end of the school year.” I tip my head and give her another stern look that says this is not up for negotiation.

She smiles and excuses herself.

“Am I free to go?” Zane asks.

“You’re free but stay out of trouble.”

He flashes me a wide grin. “I can’t promise that at all, Principal Renner.”

I chuckle as he leaves. My phone starts buzzing again, so I quickly retrieve it to see who’s on my ass knowing full well today is a school day. When I see my friend Mateo’s name, I frown. We were close back in the day, but once I moved back home, we drifted apart. He’s not on Facebook and old-school as hell. The only catching up we get to do is the occasional text. I know he’s been busy with the freight company he’s a partner and investor on in Florida, but honestly, I haven’t kept up much more than that.

“Hey, man,” I greet when I answer the phone.

“Renner,” he says, his gravelly voice reverberating through the line. “How’s life treating you?”

“Same as last time,” I say with a chuckle. “Still the principal at Brown. How’s the wife and the little girl?”

The line grows quiet for a moment before he speaks. “Valencia died this past summer.”

I blink rapidly in confusion. When we were overseas, he showed me pictures all the time of his very healthy, very beautiful, very voluptuous wife. “She what?”

“Breast cancer,” he says, a bitterness in his tone. “We had plenty of time to say our goodbyes, but it’s been hard on our baby girl.”

I think back to the pictures of his daughter. Dark hair and wide brown eyes like her mother. Fuck, this is shitty and sad. “I’m so sorry. You should have told me. I would’ve come to the funeral, man.”

He brushes me off. “It’s fine. Valencia was loved and we had a private burial in Puerto Rico. It’s not what I’m calling about.”

“I’m sorry,” I mutter again, at a loss of what to say.

“I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t agree so fast because it’s a big one,” he says.

“Te, you saved my life. I’d do anything for you. No matter how much time has passed since we’ve last seen each other or talked. It doesn’t matter. Name it and I’ll help. I owe you.”

“Fuck,” he grumbles. “It’s my daughter. She’s in trouble.”

I stand from my desk and start pacing my office. “Is she sick? Hurt?”

“No, nothing like that.” He sighs. “She’s been getting into trouble a lot at school. Running with a bad crowd this year. Her grief is changing her personality. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m fucking helpless.”

Kids. That’s something I do know.

“Does she need someone to talk to?” I ask.

“More than that.” Another heavy sigh. “I caught her with some drugs and boys in her room. I just know she’s off having sex and shit. I’m afraid some idiot is going to knock her up. All the memories are too hard on her. If she could just get away for a few months and start over, I think I could get my little girl back.”

“Sex?” I hiss. “She’s what? Like fourteen? I’m so sorry, Te.”

He chuckles. “No, man. You were always a dick at keeping up with shit. She just turned eighteen over a few months ago. It’s one of the reasons why I worry. Had she gotten picked up somewhere with those drugs on her, she would’ve gone to jail. My girl would have a record.” He curses under his breath. “I feel like an asshole for asking this, but…”

“Yeah?”

“Can she come up there? You could keep an eye on her and make sure she stays in school. Maybe a change of scenery would be good for her. We’re making some changes at the company—a lot of traveling on my part—and I’ve been inundated with work when she needs me most. Being a principal and all, I thought maybe you could help her.”

The very idea of having to babysit a teenager has my skin crawling, but she’s not just any teenager. She’s Mateo’s. And I owe him everything.

“Of course, man,” I say without hesitation. “My house isn’t fancy like yours, though. She’ll have to get used to roughing it.”

“Still living the lakeside cabin life? I always knew you were a simple motherfucker,” he says, amusement in his tone.

I don’t tell him the reasons why I have the cabin.

I need the peace.

I crave it.

“Simple house note too,” I retort. “Not all of us live in fancy-ass condos with our own valet service.”

He laughs. “I like to spend my money.”

“I like to keep mine.”

“Thanks, Adam. This means the world to me. If you need me to save your life again, just give me a call,” he jokes. “But seriously, though, thank you. I don’t know how else to help her.”

“We’ll get her straightened out,” I vow. “I promise.”

“I knew I could count on you.”