In the kitchen, the fridge had been cleaned out; a fresh-cut lemon sat on the top shelf. My water jug was full, slices of lemon floating on the surface. Hayden must have stopped by recently, and more than once. He’d been waiting for me to come home.
In need of a distraction, I opened my laptop and printed out the most recent version of my thesis. I’d made little progress in my time away, too consumed with everything else. While Trey’s forged legal paperwork had bought me some time and pity from the dean of the program, I was behind the timeline for the complete rough draft. I’d have to work doubly hard to make up not only the missed time, but also the class I TA’d.
At least my scholarship hadn’t been revoked. Yet. Professor Calder had expressed his concern over the possibility that my funding might not continue, and I was sure I’d hear more about that, and his other issues, when I met with him. I planned to drop off a current draft in case he had a chance to look at it before second semester began. If there was one thing I hadn’t missed while I was in Arden Hills, it was my adviser meetings.
The temperature had done a nosedive in the last week and my car windows were covered with frost. I got in the car and blasted the heat, shivering as I waited for the windshield to clear because I didn’t have a scraper. While my teeth chattered and the car warmed, I sent Hayden a message to let him know I was heading out to pick up groceries but would be at Inked Armor by five. I didn’t even get the phone back in my pocket before Hayden fired a message back. He requested I pick up beer and food for TK, specifying the brand for both.
Northwestern was my first stop. It was quiet on campus. Most students were shut away in the library or coffee shops, cramming for exams. Classes wouldn’t resume until after the New Year. The buildings would be open during the day until the end of next week, when marks were due. I had twenty-seven essays to mark and submit by next Friday, which wouldn’t be a problem since I didn’t have a job anymore. Cassie and I had yet to discuss if I would resume shifts at Serendipity.
I took the stairs to the third floor. My hip was stiff but not overly sore. After the fight with Sienna and the sex with Hayden, I expected it to feel much worse. Maybe the workout helped. With a smile, I pushed through the door beside the bank of elevators. As I rounded the corner, a familiar-looking girl with long, sandy-blond hair stepped out of my adviser’s office with a giggle. All the way down at the other end of the hall, she didn’t notice me.
A hand shot out and dragged her back through the doorway by her waist. I stepped out of view and flattened myself against the wall. The giggling stopped abruptly, followed by a whisper of voices. I held my breath and waited. Another titter filtered down the hall, cut off by the soft click of a door’s closing.
I stayed where I was for several minutes before I peeked out again; then I crept down the hall to Professor Calder’s office. A muffled moan came from the other side of the door. It was followed by the sounds of furniture dragging across wood, and then a rhythmic slapping started. The rumors were true.
I slipped my phone out of my back pocket, went to the video-camera feature, and hit the record button as the woman began moaning in earnest. I held the phone up to Professor Calder’s nameplate. There was a loud smack, like a palm hitting skin, and low tones of admonishment. Then the banging started, loud and hard. I hoped my phone picked up the muffled sound of the woman calling out his name. When I was at risk of gagging, I pocketed my phone. Quietly, I slipped the title page free from my draft and scrawled a message. Returning it to the folder, I dropped the package into the box beside his door.
Even though it let me out on the wrong side of the building, I left through the stairwell beside his office. The door closed with an echoing slam, which was the point. I wanted to incite paranoia. As I stepped out into the frosty December afternoon, I decided I’d learned one good thing from Trey: blackmail could be an effective tool for self-preservation.
10
HAYDEN
People were annoying the hell out of me today. Lisa and Chris, to be precise. They kept looking at me, obviously waiting for something. Maybe they thought I was going to flip my shit or sit down and have a little love-in to share my feelings about Tenley’s being back, which wasn’t going to happen. And not just because I hated the sharing bullshit. My feelings were all over the place, and I was still sorting them out.
It was just past two in the afternoon. Tenley had gone to run some errands and all I could think about was when she’d be back. I pulled the folder for my client this afternoon, as well as Nate’s designs. He was supposed to stop by later in the evening to take a look at them. I figured his impromptu drop-in had more to do with what had happened at dinner on Sunday than the actual tattoo, but I didn’t mind either way. Nate’s intentions were good, even if he was looking to get all up in my head.
I left his design at my workstation and took the other one to the private room. The tattoo would span from midrib to upper thigh, down the right side of my client’s body. It was a cool design and Amy was a cool chick. I’d done a few smaller pieces for her in the past, but this was her first foray into a multisession tattoo. I was pretty damn excited to be working on another substantial piece.
I left the door open and started setting up. We were only going for a two-hour session because ribs hurt like an SOB and I didn’t want to push it. That should be enough to tackle the outline, provided we didn’t take too many breaks. Amy was realistic about her pain tolerance, which was a nice change from some of the douche nozzles who scheduled four hours of my time, then pussied out halfway through.
“Hey.” Lisa was in the doorway, leaning against the jamb.
“Is Amy here already?” I checked the time. It was only ten past. While she was prompt, she didn’t usually show up this early for a session.
“Not yet.” Lisa came inside and shut the door.
“What’s up?” I knew damn well why she was barricading me in here. Lisa had been waiting for the chance to grill me ever since I’d walked through the door with Tenley.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Just fine?”
I smoothed out the stencil. “You don’t need to pussyfoot around the issue. Ask what you want to ask.”
“What’s going on with you and Tenley?”
I would have thought the way I’d kissed her before I sent her off answered the question. Apparently not. “We’re working things out.”
“Which means what, exactly?”
I frowned. “It means what it means. Or are you looking for a play-by-play of our conversation so you can give me your unbiased opinion on what you think I should do?”
“Sarah called me this morning. Apparently she had an interesting conversation with Candy late last night.”
Shit. Bad news traveled fast. I hadn’t even seen Candy at The Dollhouse, but my focus had been elsewhere. I got real busy checking to make sure I had the right ink. “Yeah? What’d she have to say?”
“That Sienna got into it with someone whose description fits Tenley’s, and Sienna’s nose ended up broken. Candy also might have mentioned to Sarah that you stopped by The Dollhouse. She said Sienna was all in a rage after you left. Do you want to fill in the missing details?”
“Tenley left her keys with Sarah when she went back to Arden Hills. She stopped at The Dollhouse thinking Sarah would be there and had a run-in with Sienna instead. Things got heated. I picked her up.”