Page 4 of Ruthless Deliverance

DANI

The good news—the school day is almost over. The bad news—I’ve spent more time in the administration office than is advisable for a new student’s first day on campus.

And my current position is the principal’s office. It’s more than double the size of Mr. Chipper Counselor’s office that I sat in this morning, but this room feels much more suffocating. It’s only been a few minutes since I was instructed by the grouchy secretary to have a seat and wait for Principal Cabot. The hour prior involved sitting in a stiff plastic chair in the main lobby, across the way from the old bat of a secretary who seems to disapprove of everyone in general, so at least it’s not just me. Although her endorsement isn’t wanted, the principal’s is the one I could use right now. I need some kind of saving grace to keep me in this godforsaken school because Philip will make sure my dad pays the price if I fail.

Immediately pushing the nervousness that thought brings out of my mind, I glance around the office. The assignment might be a lost cause, but it might also be worth the effort of getting any information I can since the opportunity to be alone in the principal’s office has presented itself. I’ll probably be left waiting for a long while, and this might be my last time at this school.

Rising from my chair, I casually fold my arms over my chest and glance around. Just in case there’s a camera or someone walks in, I need to appear to be a bored student waiting for her punishment. Not a cop snooping around an administrator’s office with hopes of finding something (anything!) incriminating before I’m tossed out on my ass and the entire operation is blown.

Cabot’s desk would be too difficult to play off if I’m caught so I head to the back wall lined with bookshelves. Nothing looks out of place as I glance at the worn leather spines of the books before moving to the wall covered in numerous pictures. Most are of Principal Cabot and a woman I assume is his wife and all are in different settings. A tropical beach. Wintertime in full sledding gear. Everything in between.

When I don’t spot anything worth taking a closer peek at, I move back near the stiff leather chair I’m supposed to be occupying as I glance over the desk. Aside from the laptop, there’s not much to snoop through, which is a good thing because just as I’m resuming my assigned spot, the office door opens. However, it’s not only the principal stepping into the room. Creed makes his way to the chair beside me and sits down all calm and shit, like he has a reason to be in this impromptu meeting. I’m sure he’s here to plead his chump of a friend’s case, who is too busy licking his wound to put up his own defense.

Cabot has a seat behind the massive desk, interlacing his fingers as his hands rest on the desktop. “Miss Graham, you’ll be happy to hear no charges are going to be filed.”

“Okay.” Yeah. That is a really good thing because that’d be a fun one to explain down at the station. However, it’s a little shocking at the same time. “Can I go now?”

“I believe it’s best if you take the rest of the day to cool off before resuming classes in the morning.”

Say what? “In the morning?” Expulsion or suspension was pretty standard in this scenario. Simply being sent home for the afternoon to cool off … not expected. At all.

“Yes. Mr. Kincaid has assured me that the incident wasn’t incited by you. But in the future, these situations should be handled without resorting to violence.”

Creed defended me instead of his asshat friend—that is even more astonishing. But why? Something tells me it wasn’t out of the kindness of his heart or for the sake of the truth.

Glancing over to Creed, I’m even more convinced that something is really off with him. “I warned Beau. He failed to listen. And he got what he deserved.”

I keep my eyes on Creed, both waiting for a reaction (which I don’t get) and to let him know I have no intentions on taking any less of a violent approach if he wants to follow in the footsteps of his buddy.

“I’m not sure a broken nose was deserved, but nonetheless, let’s keep our hands to ourselves from here on out,” Cabot grumbles, almost as if he expects his students not to listen to him. That’s his own fault. It’s more than clear he has no control over the kids on campus. Children run the place, and they all know it.

“It was deserved, but I’ll be sure to keep my hands to myself if everyone else extends the same courtesy.” I can’t help but glare at the half of the duo who has the nerve to smile at me. Creed has no intention of following any rules but his own, and I’m sure his other half will follow suit.

Cabot, on the other hand is oblivious or at the very least, in complete denial. “I assure you Beau won’t be bothering you again.”

I can’t help but laugh. There’s no way Beau’s precious ego could take that hard of a hit (literally) and just let it drop. And I’m fully ready to deal with him. What I won’t be able to do is sit back and keep my hands to myself. Because I doubt any of these privileged bastards know the first thing about not getting exactly what they want.

“Now, if that’s everything—” Cabot is ready to dismiss me, and I’m ready to go but Creed has other plans.

“Leave us.” Only he’s not instructing me to leave the room. He’s speaking to the principal. The actual person whose office we’re in and the dupe does just that. Cabot barely hesitates for a second before he stands, walks out of the room, and shuts the door behind him. Fuck. This is worse than I thought. These kids have the dude’s balls in a vice grip. And I don’t believe the man lets them run the place just because their families built the school.

Philip might be a dick, but I have to give him this one. His assessment that the problem in this place goes all the way to the top is correct. Which is why he said we’re on assignment without anyone at the school knowing. The department has done stings in schools before but usually the principal or someone at the district level is aware. No one knows about my true identity. So why do I feel like the asshole staring at me can see straight through my cover?

“That’s one hell of a show you put on.” His smooth voice moves through my mind but it’s his words that send my heart racing. There’s no way he knows. And by the impossible chance he does, I’m keeping my damn mouth closed until I can assess exactly how much he knows.

He slowly rises from his chair, moves in front of me, and leans his backside against the desk. His assessing gaze never leaves me, but he takes the time to do a complete evaluation over the length of my body before returning his gaze to my eyes. “But you sure have piqued my interest.”

There’s a slight ease in my chest as I gather he’s speaking of his dick’s interest and nothing more. I can use that to my advantage, but I need to tread lightly where all these fuckers are involved. After all, this could very well be a ploy to get me to let my guard down so Beau can make his payback.

“Great. Now. Show’s over, so I’m sure you can find someone else to entertain your interest.” I grab my bag and go to stand up, but before I can, he swiftly moves forward, a hand on each of the arm rests pinning me in place.

“I’m not done with you.” His words aren’t threatening but they send a shiver down my spine.

I level my eyes with his. I don’t care who he thinks he is. And as much as I’m freaking on the inside, I won’t show it on the outside. Because I know better than anyone, once someone senses a hint of fear, they push harder. “So much for keeping our hands to ourselves. I can give you the same reminder your buddy got if you need to know where your hands should and shouldn’t be.”

The corner of his mouth rises in a smirk that would be appealing if it wasn’t attached to a menacing shitbag who is standing in my way (literally and figuratively) of getting the hell out of here. The smile on his face stretches even more when my eyes stay on his mouth for a tad too long. “My hands aren’t on you. But they will be when you’re ready to beg for it.”

Motherfucker. Unlike Beau, I’m sensing Creed has his self-confidence fully intact, no weak spot or anything to exploit as easily. “I don’t beg. But I will hit a bitch who thinks he has any right to put his hands on me.”