Shame (Ruin #3) (3 page)

“Dr. Blake…” She leaned forward, her boobs popping out of her tight black tank top. “…I think you were talking about the passion section of the syllabus.”

“Ah.” He snapped his fingers. “I believe you’re correct.” He looked down and examined a piece of paper, and then his lips curled into a smile as he glanced up. “Sophie, is it?”

Swear, the girl sighed out loud as she nodded her head eagerly. I glanced around in disgust and noticed most of the girls having similar screw me now reactions. What’s the big deal? So he was young and attractive? Who cared? How about passing class and making an impact on the world?

“Passion…” He spoke in that same low, fluid voice that had me slightly hypnotized before shaking my head. “…will be discussed after the emotions segment. This class is the simple study of emotions and the brain. Why do we do what we do? Do emotions drive our decisions? Or are they unnecessary in how they affect every single one of the choices we make? This class will help you decipher between logic and emotion, and hopefully once the semester is over, you’ll know your own emotions and your own brain better.” His voice cracked. “At least that’s my desire.”

The way he’d said
desire
had my head popping up involuntarily. His eyes were on me. I squirmed in my seat and jerked my gaze toward the board behind him.

“I’m not going to keep you the full time this morning…” He cleared his throat. “…because I have an assignment for you.”

“Of course he does,” a guy to my left said under his breath.

I offered him a quick smile.

Dr. Blake handed some papers to a student in the front row. “Pass these back.”

Once the paper hit my desk, I almost groaned.

“Wow, torture on the first day. How’d we get so lucky?” that same guy whispered.

It was like he was reading my mind. I couldn’t make out his face because I didn’t want to stare at him long enough to make him think I was interested. So I kept my eyes trained on my paper.

“A study of the face,” Professor Blake read aloud. “I want you to study your peers. On the paper you’ll see each emotion written out. I want a definition of the nonverbal cues you see. If you have permission from the person you’re studying, take a picture and upload it with your assignment when you’re finished. Gentlemen, this is not an excuse to stalk.”

The guy snickered. “Bummer,” he said under his breath, while my entire body froze.

It wasn’t a joking matter, and I hated that I was the only one in the room who couldn’t laugh at what was supposed to be a joke. My breathing picked up as I gripped the sides of my desk.

“The assignment’s due tonight by midnight. Class dismissed.”

Students shuffled by me, but my butt was firmly planted in my seat.

“Hey…” The guy next to me stood and hovered over my desk. “…you okay?”

Slowly I looked up. He seemed harmless enough. A dark black hoodie hung around his muscled chest. Bright blue eyes peeked out beneath really thick lashes and glossy brown hair.

My eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, yeah, forgot to eat breakfast.”

He smiled. “Been there. By the way, I’m Jack.” He held out his hand.

Not knowing what else to do, I took it and whispered, “Lisa.”

“Cool.” He nodded. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later. Apparently we have homework!” He said the homework part loud enough for Professor Blake to lift up his head and glare.

The minute Jack walked out of the room, the tension picked up, sucking out any sort of comfort I’d felt at his encouragement. Scattering out of my seat, I quickly grabbed my things and headed for the door. I was almost free when I heard a throat clear.

“Lisa, a moment of your time.”

Funny how some sentences can sound so innocent, right? A moment? Is a moment — some time with your professor after being late — totally normal? But that one sentence wasn’t normal. Had I known how abnormal it was, I would have never turned around.

That was my first mistake.

Turning around and meeting his steely gaze.

Taking that first step in his direction, not knowing that in a few short months, I’d be helpless against his pull. Defenseless.

I stopped in front of the table in the front of the class and sighed. “Yes?”

Up close, he was prettier than he’d been from far away. I almost lost my nerve but met his gaze straightforward as if I didn’t realize he was beautiful, as if I wasn’t terrified of that same beauty and the intensity behind it.

“Sit,” he ordered.

I would have plopped on the floor had a chair not been right beside me. He demanded obedience, and, for some reason, I felt like I owed it to him.

I had no idea how true it was.

How I owed him more than obedience. My very soul.

“I expect students to be on time.” He folded his hands in front of his chest and leaned against the desk, his head cocked to the side, his grin friendly yet… distant. “Is that going to be a problem in the future?” His smile dropped briefly as his eyes darted away almost in disgust. “For someone like you?” His gaze returned, heated, then went completely cold.

Stunned, I could only stare in response. Was he serious? Someone like me? What did that even mean? Finding my voice, I answered, “You mean a sophomore like me?”

“No…” His jaw clenched. “…I meant it exactly how it sounded.”

“Well.” I cleared my throat and found a shred of confidence, probably the last bit I had for the day before I broke down and cried. “It sounded like you were implying that I was different than any other student here, and, I can assure you, I’m as normal as they come.”

“I’m sorry to be the only person willing to tell you the truth,” he said slowly. His full lips bared another smile, but it wasn’t kind. It was mocking. You know that feeling you get when someone stares at you, and it’s almost like you have no clothes on at all? But instead of it being out of lust, it’s total disgust? That was the look he was giving me, like I had no business being in school, like I had no business breathing the same air.

I’d never felt more cheap than I did in that moment, and I was fully clothed, a rarity for someone of my old profession. Designers had made me feel beautiful, my friends had made me feel flawless, and this man had stripped every bit of confidence with one mocking grin.

“You’re a bit of a celebrity around here, Lisa.”

I looked down.

“So…” His right foot tapped against the ground. “…I know it must be difficult to fit in, but the later you are, the more attention you command. Do you understand what I’m saying? If you truly desired to blend in…” His voice trailed off.

“I’d be on time.” My voice wavered as I blinked back tears. “I swear it won’t happen again. I lifted my head. “I had an issue with my mailbox again, and then the girl wasn’t being very helpful, and I forgot breakfast and—”

He held up his hand. “I don’t need your excuses or justifications. I just need your attendance and focus for the next semester. Think you can handle that?”

I took a step back and nodded.

“Good.” He stood, towering over me. His shoulders relaxed but only slightly. A piece of copper hair fell across his eyebrow, giving him a boyish look, though he exuded nothing but anger and sensuality. I was loath to admit that last part because he was such a jackass. “You may leave now.”

Had Gabe been there, he probably would have been up in the professor’s face. Even Wes wouldn’t have stood for it, and Wes didn’t even like killing spiders. Respect was huge for them, and this guy was using his authority in all the wrong ways, throwing his weight around like I was nothing more than an annoyance.

“Lisa?” Professor Blake’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t you have a class to go to?”

“Right.” I clamped my mouth shut even though I wanted to talk back The last thing I needed was to get in trouble or not pass my classes; they were all I had. If I didn’t focus on school, I’d focus on the stalker or even my past. Both of those were out. I couldn’t go there, refused to even dwell on it. “Thanks, Professor, for your… um, advice.”

He seemed surprised; his face scrunched up a bit before he coughed into his hand and turned away.

Somehow my response had made him uncomfortable. I just didn’t know why.

I checked my watch and groaned as I stepped into the hall. If I didn’t run, I was going to be late. Again.

CHAPTER FOUR

I never had a pet growing up. What I had was Mel. Damn, she was spirited. I enjoyed breaking that spirit; I relished in the evil I’d made her do and laughed when she started falling with me, when I no longer had to pressure her to pick on the weak. My greatest accomplishment was the day she’d come up with the idea to end all ideas. A death dare for all the new recruits in our group of friends. That was the night I told her I loved her — but I didn’t really love her. I loved what she made me feel. I loved that, instead of being afraid of me, she fed the beast. She fed me more than my heroin addiction, more than the coke, more than the girls, the fast cars. She filled me temporarily, but I knew it would come to an end someday. She had a conscience, whereas I did not, so it would end, and I’d have to change tactics with her. —
The Journal of Taylor B.

Tristan

I
HADN’T EXPECTED
her to be so docile. It was a direct contradiction to what Taylor had written about in his journal. For a minute, possibly a second, a seed of doubt started to grow, but I squashed it down. I was doing this for me, for my family. I had no proof that she was the same girl Taylor wrote about, only a sneaking suspicion; the names matched, the description matched, and I’d found a few pictures of her in that same journal.

What had happened? How had she pushed him over the edge? Why hadn’t she told someone? She was so young; so was he. Granted, I knew an apology was probably in order, but I didn’t even know what the hell I was apologizing for or how to do it. I was torn between feeling guilty about how he’d supposedly treated her, and furious that she’d been responsible for him jumping off that bridge.

My body gave an involuntary shudder, pissing me off all the more. I wasn’t this guy, the one hell-bent on revenge. I didn’t even recognize the foreign feeling anymore. On the outside I was the same; but inside it was like a storm was brewing, just waiting to implode from the inside out. I gripped the edge of the desk and took a few soothing breaths, closing my eyes, returning my focus to the words on those pages, the words that sealed my fate, the ones that sealed hers.

She’d helped destroy him.

So by rights — I should destroy her. That’s how life worked, the yin and the yang.

If my parents could see me now. Yeah, it wouldn’t be pride; then again, they’d done nothing to help. If anything, they’d been the first catalyst, followed by
her.

Her bright blue eyes flashed in my line of vision.

They matched that blue streak in her hair.

The one I couldn’t stop staring at, the one that kept distracting me from my lecture. I hadn’t actually planned on ending class so early, but the woman was too distracting. One look and I was just as lost as he’d been. She was like a poison, one I needed to suck out, to destroy.

Falling for her would be easy.

Getting her to fall for me would be the hard part. Relationships were built on trust, and I was going to gain hers. But first? A healthy dose of fear and respect. After all, I knew exactly how her mind worked. She responded to challenges. Fear gave her courage. So I was going to be a damn fearsome professor — and she’d love me more for it.

Guilt nagged again as the harsh words about Mel came flooding into my line of vision. If what he’d written was true, she’d been in hell with him.

I pushed it away.

I wasn’t the good guy anymore — the one who never swore, drank, or did drugs. I was going to become him, if only for a semester. I would use his journal as a guide, and, in the end, God willing, I’d find peace.

I patted the journal in my coat pocket. “It’s okay. You’ll finally be at rest.” I was going to discover what had really happened if it killed me. I owed him that much.

Guilt nagged again… I swallowed it down, unwilling to admit that everything I did was driven by fear. The pill bottle in my pocket rattled. I slapped my hand over it and swore aloud.

He’d found the only way to be free.

I didn’t want that same destiny.

CHAPTER FIVE

“Do you still love me?” she asked one night while we were lying together in bed. I always stayed at hotels with her, never at the house. I didn’t want to mix business with pleasure.

“Of course I do, baby.” The lie was smooth, effortless. “Why?”

“You seem distant.”

Because I was, because she was nothing to me, a body, a means to an end, an entertainment, a pet, a project, a distraction. Didn’t she realize by now? I didn’t feel things; it was impossible with all the drugs I’d taken for my
sickness,
or whatever the hell my parents called it. Please, if I was a sociopath, I would have been bombing things. Instead, I bullied kids, I entertained myself, and I did drugs. There were worse things in the world. Right? —
The Journal of Taylor B
.

Lisa

“
J
UST HOLD STILL!”
I yelled, holding up my phone while Gabe gave me the finger. I grimaced and dropped the camera away from my face. “Nice, thanks for that.”

“I’m a giver.” He smirked.

Saylor, his wife, smacked him on the arm and rolled her eyes.

“Ouch.”

I scrunched up my face when he leaned in and took Saylor’s mouth with his, kissing her senseless in the local Starbucks like they were doing a romance scene in a movie. I coughed.

They didn’t pull apart.

So I took a picture.

I earned another finger, but Gabe still didn’t dislodge from his wife.

“Whoa!” Wes’s voice sounded from behind me. “They been at it long?”

“Are all newlyweds disgusting?” I voiced aloud.