callan
I needed to get rid of Georgina.
After stripping my wet clothes and replacing them with new ones, I paced around my house and ran a hand through my wet hair, thinking about the way Sakura’s lips had felt against mine. All of this was only supposed to be physical; I was never supposed to kiss her. She was my fucking student.
But I couldn’t help myself.
I couldn’t even fucking think straight when I was with her.
Her pure innocence the night I had given her detention. Her soft lips against mine in the backseat of my car. The way she had fucking giggled at the cheesy romance book, stuffed away with my literature books.
God, it was unreal.
Two headlights glimmered through the window and into the front room. A car drove up the driveway, and I stopped, wondering if it was Sakura back for more.
Part of me didn’t even believe that any of this had happened. I feared I had hallucinated it all to get through the rest of my life with Georgina.
What if I walk into school tomorrow and it is all gone? What if Sakura doesn’t look up at me in adoration anymore, but in fascination for the Literature material?
A low growl escaped my lips. I would fucking hate myself if that happened.
Someone knocked on my front door. I glanced over at the side table, where I had buried a gun in one of the drawers. If it was the mob, they wouldn’t knock; they would barge right in. I should be fine.
When I pulled the door open, I sighed. Maybe I needed that gun after all.
“Callan,” Jett Harleen said, placing a wrinkled hand on my shoulder and walking right into the house.
It was after ten at night on a weeknight, and here he was … now inside my house without a care in the fucking world.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked, much ruder than I’d meant to.
But I’d just had the night of my life, and he had to come to my house and ruin it all. I didn’t need to be reminded of the constant pressure to be the perfect husband and let Jett Harleen remind me of why I couldn’t step out of line.
“Wanted to drop by to see how you and my daughter are doing.”
Bullshit.
“Georgina is in Paris by herself,” I said dryly.
And hopefully, one of the random men that she hooked up with would kill that bitch so I didn’t have to get my hands dirty. I’d gladly kill her myself, if it meant I could be with Sakura and I didn’t have to worry about the mob offing me.
“My son is in Europe too.”
Oh great, so they’re both cheating on their spouses together. How fucking fun. He should go, too, and make it a family affair. That would really be the cherry on Redwood’s corrupt cake.
“That’s great,” I said, turning away from him and walking to the kitchen. “Drink?”
“I’ll have a glass of whiskey,” he said, following me.
I gritted my teeth and continued to the bar, wishing he hadn’t even come over. But when Jett had a couple of drinks in him, he got straight to the fucking point. He had come here for a reason, and I didn’t want to drag this out.
After pouring us each a glass—because I wouldn’t be able to get through a conversation with him without one—I set his on the table and sat across from him. The bitter alcohol slid down the back of my throat, dry as hell.
“How are you and my daughter doing?” he asked.
“Couldn’t be better,” I lied. “She asked me to go to Paris with her, but I’ve been busy.”
“With that job of yours.”
“Yes, with teaching.”
He knocked back his drink. “My daughter wants you to quit.”
Fuck.
She fucking had to tell her daddy. She couldn’t let me have this one fucking thing.
I balled my hand into a tight fist and stared blankly at the table. I fucking hated that bitch more and more every single day. She was free to do whatever the hell she wanted—and she did—but she hadn’t been able to take this away from me.
Until now.
“What do you say?” Jett asked, cheeks reddening from the whiskey.
I say that it’s not fucking happening.
“I’ll have to think about it,” I lied.
He leaned forward and chuckled. “Don’t think too hard.”
The last time we’d had a conversation like this with just me and him, he had convinced me to marry his daughter for an obscene amount of money. And a poor kid like me couldn’t pass up on his offer. Even if I had tried, he threatened that he would off me. Anything to make his daughter happy.
But not this time.
No amount of money would convince me to leave my job in the middle of Sakura’s senior year. No amount of money would take her away from me. Not now. Not after I knew what her mouth felt like against mine, how she felt while sitting in my lap, giggling.
“Are you still making Georgina happy?” Jett asked.
I plastered that fake smile I’d perfected over the years onto my face. “Of course.”
Neither of us was happy anymore, and I didn’t know why Georgina hadn’t divorced me already. We didn’t have any kids or any pets. We were the damn definition of no strings attached, except we didn’t have sex anymore. But she still had some sick fantasy of us together in her head.
“Good,” he said, placing the glass down on the side table. “I hope it stays that way.”
And I hope you get hit by a fucking car on the way home.
“Don’t worry about that,” I said, lying straight through my teeth and walking him to the front door so he would get the fuck out of here and stop threatening me just because I wouldn’t quit my job.
In order to get rid of Georgina, I would have to dispose of her father first.
I needed to figure out a way. Something.
Anything to get out of this fucking family.
Jett walked out the front door to head back to his car.
“Jett,” I called before he shut the door.
That asshole glanced over his shoulder with a wide smile on his aging face. He had once been the man all the girls threw themselves at for his looks. Now, he was just some old guy with a saggy dick.
“Nobody has called me that in ages,” he said, smiling. “What is it?”
“You wanna get drinks Saturday night at Escape?”
“Is that the mob place?”
Look at him. Playing dumb. Like he hasn’t hung the mob over my head for decades now.
“The one and only,” I said, flashing him the smile that had won over his daughter years ago.
After a moment of hesitation, he nodded. “I’ll be there at eight,” he called over his shoulder, walking down the sidewalk.