Stoking the Fire (Salus Security #1) - Teodora Kostova Page 0,21
lean my head on his shoulder and pretend the wetness on my face is sweat.
When he turns me around, his usually bright eyes are filled with so much sorrow I can’t stomach looking at them.
“I need this,” I say, leaning into him to whisper over the loud music. “I need to end it once and for all.”
When I pull back, he studies me, then cups my cheek. “Whatever you need.”
I take my phone out, turn the selfie camera on, and point it toward us. Adri looks a little confused as he stares into the camera, but he leans into me, ready to give me anything I need.
I turn to him, our faces less than an inch apart. When I kiss him, he startles, but doesn’t pull away. When I deepen the kiss, he surrenders.
When I click the capture button, he whimpers into my mouth.
When I send the picture to Alec, I sever the string tying us together and set him free.
Chapter eleven
In the weeks that follow, I don’t go to school. I don’t answer emails and messages. I don’t reply to comments, don’t check notifications.
I’m spiraling. My mind is reeling with so many thoughts I can’t grasp any of them.
I keep turning my head to say something to Alec only to discover he isn’t there; I keep reaching for him in the darkness of the night, only to discover his side of the bed empty.
Alcohol dulls the pain.
I go to every party I’m invited to, every club opening, every event with an open bar and a crowd of people who know my name. I lose myself in the pain, in the regret. In the guilt.
Until I get a phone call from my father in the middle of the night.
A phone call that changes my life.
Evie was in a car accident and was airlifted to the hospital. They don’t know if she’ll make it.
It’s the most terrifying phone call of my life. And, ironically, it’s what saves me.
NOW
Chapter twelve
The pile of paper is growing with each student that passes by the desk. Most of them don’t even look at me as they hand in their assignment, eager to speak to Professor Cohen. It’s the last Romantic Poetry and Prose class before the research assignment is due, and Professor Cohen’s appointments are filling up fast. Most of the students won’t get a chance to consult with him one on one, but it’s worth a try.
“Zachary,” the professor calls from where he’s swamped on the other side of the massive desk. “Give me a hand, please.”
That’s code for, “Bring me my calendar and book appointments for as few people as possible.”
I suppress a sigh as I grab the black, leather-bound notebook and make my way to the other side of the desk. The moment I reach him, Professor Cohen looks at his watch, his squinty eyes widening.
“Oh my,” he says dramatically. The man has a brilliant mind, but an actor he is not. I scan the faces of the students clustered around us. Some of them roll their eyes; others huff impatiently. “I must run, I’m afraid.” He smiles apologetically, then begins gathering his things. “Zachary will help you with the appointments. Have a good weekend, everyone.” He claps my shoulder as he walks past me, murmuring a soft “Thank you”, before swiftly walking out of the auditorium.
The moment he leaves, the crowd surrounding me erupts in action. Huddling even closer around me, everyone speaks over each other, trying to get my attention. For a moment I indulge in the fantasy of telling everyone to fuck off and stomping out of the room. But that will be rude, and irresponsible, and immature, and I’m not that person anymore. Plus, forgoing my duties as Professor Cohen’s teaching assistant for the semester will probably jeopardize my place in the English PhD program I fought tooth and nail for. Contrary to popular belief, being the son of a media mogul doesn’t guarantee an easy ride. If anything, the professors expect more of me, and most of the students blatantly ignore me. In the two years I’ve already been in the program, I haven’t made a single friend.
The noise of everyone shouting over each other slams me back into the present. I take a step back, pull the chair from under the desk, and climb on it. I whistle loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls in the huge hall.
It has the desired effect. Everyone’s mouth slams shut with an audible click.