First to Fail (Unraveled #3) - Marie Johnston Page 0,54

was usually so comfortable. I could argue with him without worrying about what he thought of how I was dressed and whether or not it influenced what he thought of me.

I squeezed my hands together. His gaze dipped down, but his expression didn’t fill with gloating. How was he going to react to what I said?

“What has Jaycee told you about yesterday when she skipped?”

We were only a couple of feet apart. He folded his arms and towered over me, but I didn’t feel threatened and he didn’t have the look of someone using his size for intimidation. The gravity playing through his features spoke of the long talk he must’ve had with his daughter.

“She said she was upset and couldn’t take another day in this place.” His voice rumbled over my body. I craved his voice. “According to her, ‘it’s so basic.’” His statement lacked humor.

“Did she mention who she was with?”

He shook his head. “No. She said she camped out in the bathroom, in clothing that wouldn’t repress her free spirit.”

“As soon as you drove away, she left with another student.”

Chris studied me for a moment. “And I suppose you can’t tell me who?”

“No, but I’m going to address his absence tomorrow with his parents.” And the staff that didn’t report him.

Fire flashed, making the green in Chris’s eyes lighten. “A guy? Dresden?”

I pursed my lips to keep from confirming the boy’s identity, but Chris didn’t push it.

“Are you kidding me? She was alone with him all morning, doing God knows what?” He shoved his hand through his hair. “Shit.”

I rested my hand on his chest. He froze under the touch, but I didn’t move my hand. He needed to know about Dresden, but my next observation was what bothered me. “You remember when you picked her up, she was wearing jeans?” He nodded. “I… It’s just that… Those other times she was tardy, she wore skirts.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. The level of conversations he probably had with his daughter this year weren’t for the weak dad.

It wasn’t my goal to make him reminisce, so I got to the point. “Jaycee was wearing jeans. It’s cold out, and while I’m not around Jaycee a lot, when I was”—when we were together—“she wasn’t a jeans girl. She wore leggings. I’m worried that she is getting pressured for more than a few feels in a janitor’s closet.”

“And jeans were like her armor?”

“It might be stupid.” It’s not like they would prevent anything sexual from happening, but they’d slow it down more than leggings. “I might be way off the mark. I was her age once. Some guys that age see an insecure girl and think that it’s an opening.” I shrugged and dropped my hand.

Chris’s gaze darkened. “Did you have a Dresden in your life?”

I chuckled, but I couldn’t look at him. “I was only fooled once. After that, I made it a policy to not date classmates.” I hesitated over the parallel to my adult life. “Anyway, Jaycee and the boy had something going on last fall, then there wasn’t, and I saw him arm in arm with other infatuated girls. Now, Jaycee’s hurting and acting out. Even if he’s not fully aware, he senses her weakness and he’s probably looking for more than some fondles.”

Chris sucked in a breath, his gaze heated. “I’ll talk to her. And maybe buy her a few more pairs of jeans.”

My lips twitched. The topic was too heavy for laughter, but he was heeding my concerns. Few other parents facing the woman who’d kicked their kid out of school would do the same.

“How’s it going with Nana and Papa?” I hadn’t meant to broach the sensitive topic that I was the root of, but I couldn’t help but worry about him.

His shoulders dropped and he shook his head. “I haven’t talked to them yet. I’m going to get Jaycee settled in a new school and then meet with Cierra. She’s the one wielding the power whether she wants it or not.”

“Do you think she’ll talk custody with you without her parents interfering?”

Chris’s expression remained somber. “It depends on what they think about her fiancé. If she wants to redirect her focus to make my life miserable while she gets hitched without the drama, then that’s what she’ll do.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

Without thinking, I stroked his cheek. He looked destroyed. He’d offered everything he could to Cierra, and it hadn’t been enough. Then he’d ditched his career for his daughter and