Filthy Savage: Chapter 39

“Come in, Ms. Quinn.”

I register the professor’s voice before I push the door open. He looks up from his desk as soon as I walk in, jerking his glasses up his nose.

“Thank you for seeing me, Doctor Wright.”

He laughs. “You don’t have to be so formal here. Mr. Wright or Samuel is fine.”

“Oh. Uh, okay.” I nervously slip my hair behind my ear, clutching my backpack as I step closer.

“Please have a seat.” He extends a hand toward one of the leather chairs before his desk.

His dark eyes narrow as he assesses me, and I grow uncomfortable at the attention, though I know it’s innocent.

“Thank you.” Clearing my throat, I settle down, swinging my backpack onto my knees before unzipping it and removing my paper.

“So, your grade.” He leans back into his chair. “I thought you did well. But not A material. Not yet, anyway.” He smirks.

Ouch.

“I’d like to improve, and I’d very much like to know where you felt I needed to do that.”

“Well, your arguments about the challenges of balancing individual rights and public safety in policy-making needed to be strengthened with better evidence.”

“Oh, I see.” I skim the sections he’s referencing. “Anything else you felt wasn’t done well?”

“I think if you improve your arguments and bolster them up for the next paper, you should be fine. You’re a great student. I see a lot of potential in you.”

A grin stretches on my face. “Thank you.”

“What do you want to do after you graduate?”

“I hope to become a paralegal.”

He quirks a brow. “Ah. Really?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, my wife owns her own law firm. I can put in a good word for you, especially if you continue to do well in my class.” The corner of his mouth winds up.

“Thank you. That would be amazing.”

It feels like all of my dreams are finally coming true.

“Well, thanks for stopping by, but I do have another student coming in shortly, so unless there’s something else…”

“Oh, right. Of course.”

I stuff my paper back into a folder and get to my feet, and he follows close behind.

Too close. I can practically feel his body at my back. My stomach gets jittery and a cold rush skitters up my arms, leaving goose bumps behind.

He reaches for the doorknob, and as he does, his other hand brushes over my behind.

My eyes widen. That must’ve been an accident. It had to be. He’s my professor. He’s married.

I’m married.

Disgust fills my chest.

When I glance back, there’s no indication that he did that on purpose. It was an accident. Of course it was. Obviously, I was overreacting.

“It was great to see you, Ms. Quinn.”

“It’s Mrs.”

“Right. How could I forget?” He laughs. “See you in class.”

Rushing out, I stare at the now-closed door, wondering what the hell just happened.

FIONN

“Daddy!” Fia rushes for me when I pick her up from preschool.

Tynan grabs Adora, and we start toward our cars.

“How was your day, princess?”

“Good!” she tells me, excitement rolling in her eyes.

Adora clutches her father’s shirt, her face on his shoulder.

“You okay, baby?” he asks her.

When she peers back at him, she pouts. “A boy pushed me.”

Tynan instantly freezes, murder in his eyes. “What boy? What’s his name?”

His breathing fires out, and I don’t blame him because I’d see murder too if someone touched my girl.

“Arthur. He’s mean,” Fia volunteers.

“Is that so?” he asks.

Adora nods, her bottom lip puckering.

“If he ever touches you again, you push him harder, okay, baby? You don’t let anyone do that to you.”

“Don’t worry, Uncle Tynan. I pushed him back.” Fia grins.

“That’s my girl,” I whisper in her ear, and she curls her arms tightly around my neck.

“I swear, I’m not ready for this.” Tynan sighs.

“Tell me about it. I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do when some asshole…” I whisper. “…breaks her heart.”

“We’ll break his.” A short laugh escapes. “Permanently.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you…” He opens the back door of his SUV and places Adora inside, strapping her in while glancing over. “I need you to fly to New York City to meet some new investors for that property we were talking about buying in SoHo.”

“When?”

I hate leaving my girls, but work is work.

“Tomorrow. I’ll message you the details once I confirm with them.”

“Sure.”

“So, how’s Amara dealing with her new family?” He shuts the door and makes it around to the driver’s side.

“As well as she can. But I regret not killing that father of hers after the way he spoke to her. It fucking eats at me.”

He clasps a palm on my shoulder, staring straight at me. “If you did, you might have lost her. I think you did the right thing. Though no one says his car can’t hit a tree two months from now.” His mouth jerks.

“You’re right. Those trees, they really come out of nowhere.”

He chuckles, getting inside his car. “Now you’re thinking, brother.”

As soon as Amara got home from school, I knew there was something wrong. She tried to hide it when she greeted me, but her body was tense. I could feel it when I held her.

As Fia eats her pretzels in the kitchen, I walk up to her while she pours our daughter some orange juice.

“Come here,” I tell her.

She places the carton down, swallowing nervously while biting the corner of her lower lip.

I tilt up her chin with a finger, searching those beautiful eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“What?” Her gaze bounces to me. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, just thinking about all the work I have to do. I have a test in bio next week, then a quiz in my business class the following day.” She smiles uncomfortably.

“You’re smart. You’ll do great.”

“Thanks.”

I know she’s lying, but I’m not gonna interrogate her. I’ll find out what happened on my own.

“How did the meeting with your professor go?”

Did he fucking do something? Just say the word, baby.

“Oh! Yeah, um, it went well.” She scratches her temple.

It’s him, isn’t it?

There’s no way she’s cheating on me. She’s not like that. But I don’t know Samuel Wright well enough to know whether he’d cross the line with a student.

I will find out, though. Because unfortunately for him, he now has my undivided attention.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

She releases an uneasy laugh, trying to draw my hand away from her chin, but I keep it planted.

“Of course I do. I’m just under a lot of pressure. College is definitely harder than I thought it would be.”

I nod slowly, releasing her, inhaling long and deep.

“Mommy,” Fia calls.

I’ve never seen her jump to our daughter that quickly, like she’s relieved we’re done talking.

“Yes, baby?” Her voice gets all high.

“I want more orange juice, please?”

“Sure, honey.”

While she hands Fia the cup she poured, I text Roy.

A few seconds pass before he’s texting back.

I’m gonna kill that fucking professor.

I slip the phone back into my pocket.

By tomorrow, I’m going to know everything there is to know about her teacher. More than he even knows about himself.