The Principal's Office (30 page)

No one had called.

After lunch, Dominic gave her a brochure to proof. She missed three typos. In the afternoon, the phone would not stop ringing, customers, vendors, solicitors, whatever. She transferred one of Erin’s calls to Bree and lost one for Cam.

No one phoned for her.

She expected Erin to stomp into her office and ask what on earth was up, but Erin didn’t, thank God.

Rachel was terrified, but she had to speak with Rand, tell him she’d lost the card. Oh God, his face was on that video. Gary could get him fired. At the very least, he could create a terrible scandal. He most certainly could tell Nathan he’d caught her in a compromising position with the principal.

Nathan would never talk to her again.

She left work ten minutes early. She could not stay there one more second. To call or not to call. Gary, that is. Preemptive strike, demand to know what the hell, yes, what
the hell
he was doing going through her drawers, her personal items.

Rachel didn’t have the courage now any more than she’d had last night. Besides, he might have no clue how to use the video against her without making himself look even worse. He’d
never
tell the boys for fear it would backfire on him.

By the time Rachel was on her way home, she’d convinced herself of that and was feeling much better. Until she saw Gary’s car in the drive. Naturally he was blocking the garage.

Her heart racing, she climbed the steps and found the front door unlocked. Good, the boys were home. She was safe. Gary couldn’t say anything with them as witnesses.

Think, think, think.
How could she fix this? She was a peacemaker. She knew how to get everyone to put down their weapons and make nice.

Except in the past few months.

Setting her purse on the front hall table, she was sure she could hear the TV in the family room. Her footsteps felt leaden. The farther she moved down the hall, the more recognizable the sounds became. Her ears were roaring, and she was sure she was going to faint by the time she stood in the family room doorway.

Gary was seated on the sofa, his gaze fixed, the remote in his hand.

On the TV screen, she saw herself, completely naked and fully exposed.

ON THE BIG SCREEN, RACHEL MOANED. RAND GROANED. HER LEGS
were spread wide over him, her breasts bouncing as she rode him. She saw everything, his cock in her, the slickness of her pussy, the frenzy of desire contorting her face.

It had been so beautiful when she watched it by herself. Gary destroyed all the joy she’d had in it.

“What the hell are you doing?” She moved so fast, the toe of her shoe snagged on the carpet, and she stumbled. Catching herself, she made a grab for the remote. Gary held it out of reach.

And those sounds just went on and on.

“Stop it,” she screamed at him.

Very calmly, his gaze on her, Gary pointed the remote and pushed a button.

The sounds stopped, the cessation so quick, her ears still hummed with it. But he hadn’t turned it off. No, he left the freeze-frame right up there on the screen. Her. Rand. His cock deep inside her.

“Well,” Gary said softly, maybe even snidely. “I guess I don’t
have to ask what you were doing this weekend or who you were with.”

She felt utterly sick to the very pit of her stomach. Sick with fear. With horror. With loss.

“We need to have a talk, Rachel.” He was so very calm, in total contrast to her roiling emotions. Of course. He had the upper hand.

She collapsed on the chair. “Where are the boys?” God, please don’t let them be in their rooms. Gary would never do that. Would he?

“Sherry took them out to dinner.”

She swallowed back the resentment. “What right did you have to search my things?”

He just smiled. “They’re my sons. I have every right to make sure what you do doesn’t taint them.”

“What about you and Sherry?” she spat at him.

“Nothing happens when they are in my apartment,” he said, holier than thou.

She wanted to smack him so badly, her body shook. “How did you even know it was important?”

He smirked. “Right next to your vibrator?
Tsk
,
tsk
, Rachel. I’m not an idiot. Of course it meant something.”

Jesus. She should never have gotten the damn vibrator. It was the beginning of the end.

“Did you have that when we were married, Rachel?” he sneered.

She’d needed it when they were married, because she’d certainly gotten nothing out of him. But she wasn’t going to justify anything. “What do you want, Gary?”

“It’s simple,” he said, speaking to her as if she were a child. “That”—he pointed, she didn’t look—“if I’m not mistaken, is Principal Torvik fucking the hell out of you. Or should I say you’re fucking the hell out of him.”

Gary never talked like that. Her blood turned to dust in her veins, nothing moved, her whole body suddenly oxygen starved.

“I have a proposition.” He waited.

She bit her lip. The bastard wanted her to ask. She had no choice but to play along. “What’s your proposition?”

He smiled like a great white shark ready to take a big bite. She didn’t recognize him. He couldn’t be the man she’d slept in the same bed with for seventeen years, the father of her children. This was someone else entirely. Maybe he’d always had
this
man hidden beneath his facade.

“I won’t show this video to anyone,” he said. “Not his school board, not your employers, not my divorce attorney, no one.”

He paused so long she was forced to ask, “If?”

“I want the boys full-time. You can have them one weekend a month.”

She stared at his lips as if watching them move would make his jumble of words suddenly clear. “You want custody of the boys?” It felt like she was standing in the corner, looking on from afar, another woman saying those words, thinking her thoughts. “Why? You told me I couldn’t go to school because you didn’t want to have to take the boys.”

“Sherry wants them.”

“Sherry wants my boys?” It didn’t make sense. She was young; Justin and Nathan were teenagers. It would be more likely that she’d want to get rid of them so she could have her own babies with Gary. “But why?”

“She doesn’t want to go through childbirth, and she likes kids when they’re older. She loves going to the basketball games and out for pizza or burgers.”

“You don’t have to have custody for that.”

“She wants more time with them. She wants a family.”

“But why
my
boys?”

“They’re
my
boys, Rachel,” he barked. “That’s all that matters.”

Maybe the questions were stupid under the circumstances. She just didn’t get it. “But—”

He cut her off with a slash of his hand. “You’re disgusting. Making a video anyone could see. Doing
that
”—he stabbed a finger at the screen—“and I won’t have you corrupting our children. Give them to me or I will
take
them from you. If you make me go to court, you know the boys will eventually find out.” He leaned close. She could smell his acrid sweat. Or was that her own? “Give them to me,” he said softly, “and no one has to see this. You’re safe. The principal is safe. The boys will never know.”

She didn’t know what to say, what to do. The worst had happened. She could lose the only important thing in her life: her sons. If she contested Gary in court, all he had to do was offer up that video. She could see it on the screen out of the corner of her eye. “Shut it off. Please.” Her voice trembled.

He hit another button on the remote, and the screen went blissfully blue.

If she fought him, the boys would find out. Gary would make sure. He’d poison them against her. God only knew what he’d do to Rand.

“Can I have them two weekends?” she whispered.

Gary rose from the couch, stalked the room, then she heard the light mechanical whir as the TV ejected the card. He turned, pocketing it. “On occasion, I might allow that.”

She was too stunned even to weep. “What will you tell them about why we’re making this change?” Her throat ached just saying the words. Everything inside her ached.

He swept out his hand. “You’re going back to school. You need to get an education to better yourself so you can take care of them. We’ll say it’s just for a few months.”

Those months would segue into the years until they both
turned eighteen. They’d hate her for choosing school over them. But Nathan would
never
forgive her if he learned what she’d done with his principal. There was no way out, no easy choice. All she could do was hope to salvage whatever was left over during her one weekend a month, or two, if Gary was feeling generous.

She swallowed, feeling it stick halfway down. “Can I finish out my week with them?”

He considered her a long moment, then sighed. “I guess so.” He stroked his chin like Freud considering a crazy patient. “It will be easier to transition that way. I can tell them about the change when they’re with me.” Then he smiled magnanimously. It came off looking smug. “Just think, now you can fuck anytime, anywhere you want.” He winked. “Even in the principal’s office after hours.” He patted the pocket where he’d stowed the damning video card. “Oh”—he smiled—“I also fixed the garage door for you.”

And Rachel hated him.

HER CELL PHONE DIDN’T WAKE HER AT ELEVEN-THIRTY THAT
night. Rachel wasn’t asleep. She might never sleep again. She’d been thinking about how she should throw out the rest of the evidence the way she’d tossed the condoms this morning. The naughty see-through blouse Rand had bought her, the sexy red shoes. She wasn’t a woman who could carry off red spiked heels. No, that had been a fantasy. She wasn’t that woman, could never be that woman.

The phone chirped softly at her. She’d turned it down as low as possible without going onto vibrate. She didn’t have to look at it to know it was Rand; her intuition was in On mode where he was concerned.

Of course, it could have been Gary calling to grind home his point. But, no, Gary was most likely making nookie with his hot little tramp who wanted to take away Rachel’s children.

The phone rang two more times. Another two, and it would go directly to voicemail. She’d planned on answering; that’s why she’d left it beside the bed. She’d wanted to cry on Rand’s shoulder, pour out her troubles, ask him what to do.

But then she’d have to tell him how idiotic she’d been, that she’d put his job in jeopardy. A part of her also wanted to rail at him. This was all his fault.
He’d
wanted to make that damn video.
He’d
wanted her to keep it so they could watch it together. Yes, yes, it was all
his
fault.

God, she needed to take it out on someone.

The phone stopped ringing. He was gone. She felt a rush of triumph for besting her neediness.

Rand wasn’t the problem, though. He was just a symptom of her life falling apart; he hadn’t caused it. Gary had. He’d gotten bored or depressed or maybe he’d even wanted someone like Sherry back then. So Gary had torn Rachel’s world apart. He’d detonated an H-bomb on his sons’ lives, too.

Now he wanted to ruin everything all over again, just as she was starting to feel good again. Because of Rand.

She needed that damn video back. She wondered if there was some space-age gizmo the government used in covert operations that she could drive by Gary’s house with and erase the digital contents. Okay, she knew she was stretching.

The phone beeped, signaling a message. Rachel rolled to her back, taking the cell in her hand, its screen lit up. Keying in her password, she listened.

“Baby, my cock’s hard for you. This weekend was better than anything. I’m going to jerk off remembering every moment.”

His voice stole her breath and spread warmth through her. Just sounds, not even a touch, but suddenly he held her heart in the palm of his hand. He made her
feel special, desired, wanted, needed. She couldn’t remember the last time Gary had made her feel that way, if ever. Rand did it so easily, as if complimenting her and making her feel good was second nature.

It was like the masseur all over again, Gary telling her how terrible she was, how immoral. He was stealing away all her newfound self-confidence, her joy in her sexuality. That bastard. She couldn’t let him win.

She wouldn’t let him take her boys
and
destroy her relationship with Rand. There had to be something she could do.

Saving the message, she pulled the covers to her chin and hugged the phone to her chest. She might not have a device to erase it from a distance, but there were far less technical methods. Nathan and Justin both had keys to Gary’s apartment, and it was empty all day long while he was at work.

She would search his place and steal the SD card back just the way Gary had stolen it from her.

ON TUESDAY MORNING, RAND FOLLOWED THE CURVE OF THE
buildings past the rows of lockers. The second period bell had rung several minutes ago, and the halls were empty.

Walking empty hallways was good for thinking. He’d had his admin leave a note for Nathan scheduling a meeting just before lunch. Mondays were always full of to-dos, so he’d decided to start Operation Nathan Delaney today instead of yesterday. He would get the boy to like him no matter what.

Rand smiled at himself. How low he’d sunk, trying to get at a woman through her son.

He’d missed their phone calls on both of the last two nights. He’d missed
her
. One might consider him smitten. It was a pleasant feeling. She was such a varied mix of types, soccer mom as well as sexy slut, assured as well as vulnerable, submissive as well as dominant. He couldn’t categorize her and thus everything they did was unpredictable, like the way she’d bound him with the scarves. He would never have expected that from her, and yet it delighted him.

Rounding the curve to C Building, an oddity pulled him out of his musings. Despite having been at the school only half a year, he knew these halls like the back of his hand. He was no longer alone.

Nathan Delaney stood motionless just outside the C Building bathroom, his shoulder against the door holding it slightly open. There was something furtive in his stance.