I’m furious that he’s not even willing to listen to Janelle’s side of the story. I don’t know what it is—and it may be that she’s completely at fault—but to be dismissed so out of hand is appalling.
“Come on, Janelle,” I say softly, motioning for her to get up. We head toward the door and I open it. Janelle steps through, but before I leave, I turn back to look at the wretched man. “I hate to say this, Mr. Cresten, but you’re a poor role model for your students, unwilling to hear all sides of a story. I’m guessing the other girl involved comes from a wealthy family who gives generously to your school.”
It was a shot in the dark, but the way his eyes dart left even as he denies my accusation tells me all I need to know.
I hit the nail on the head.
Janelle and I leave the school and walk to my car. When we reach it, I take her wrist, lifting her hand for inspection. I remove the ice bag and grimace at the scrapes and slight bruising on her knuckles.
“You punched her in the mouth,” I murmur.
“How’d you know?” she asks in astonishment.
“Scrapes,” I say simply. “Her teeth.”
“I meant to hit her in the nose as I know that hurts the worst,” she says.
I release her hand and cock an eyebrow. “You don’t sound remorseful.”
“I’m not,” she replies, lifting her chin. “She deserved it.”
“Want to tell me what happened?” I ask, making it clear from my tone I’m okay if she doesn’t. She certainly didn’t want to say anything in front of Mr. Cresten.
Janelle’s eyes don’t fall away as I expect them to. “Before Christmas break, I made the mistake of telling that girl about some of my past. No real details, but the general gist of why I moved here. It was in confidence, and I thought she was my friend, so I thought she’d keep it secret.”
“And she didn’t,” I guess.
“I returned two days ago to the entire school whispering behind my back. When I confronted her about it, she got nasty. Told me she was never my friend. And I was okay with ignoring her and all the others after that.”
I fill in the remainder of the story. “But she said something awful about it… or about you… something that sparked extreme anger. And you hit her.”
“I don’t regret it,” she asserts confidently, but in the next breath whispers, “Riggs is going to be so mad. He might send me back to my mom.”
“No,” I exclaim vehemently. “He’ll never do that. He might be mad, but whatever the reasons that led him to take you, it was done with the idea he wasn’t ever letting you return.”
“You don’t know that,” she insists.
But somehow, I do. The man I don’t like, who kisses like a devil in the best of ways, I know he’d give his life for his sister if it came down to it.
“Trust me.” I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her into a half hug. “Riggs might be mad, but then again, he might not. Hell, a good chunk of his job is fighting people after provocation. It would be hypocritical of him not to think it didn’t run in the genes.”
Janelle giggles, and I’m relieved the heaviness of the moment has passed. I glance down at her hand. “Do I need to take you to the doctor?”
She wiggles her fingers for me to see. “Nothing broken.”
“Want to go home or my place?” I ask.
“Can we go to the bookstore?” She looks so hopeful, and I know it’s become a haven for her.
“Sure,” I say, opening the passenger door. “But I’ll need to let Riggs know what’s going on.”
“Actually,” Janelle drawls, looking at me beseechingly, “can we tell him when he gets back tomorrow? I don’t want to do anything to ruin his concentration for the game tonight.”
“That’s fine,” I agree. Nothing would be served by telling him right now, other than to make him mad or worried and throw him off his game. It can wait. “Let’s go to the bookstore.”
CHAPTER 12
Riggs
I’m trying to hold my anger in check as I step off the elevator and move down the hall toward my front door. The anger has been on a low simmer since getting a call from the principal at Janelle’s school yesterday afternoon. It appears my little sister punched another girl and has been suspended for a week.
While I’m pissed at Janelle for making a poor choice, most of my anger is reserved for Veronica. Mr. Cresten gave me an earful about her—calling her a disrespectful harridan who was no doubt casting a bad influence upon Janelle. The man blustered for fifteen minutes about Veronica’s character. He admitted that he was inclined to only suspend Janelle for three days, but given Veronica’s rude diatribe, he made it a week so that the parental units and guardians knew that their child’s behavior at school was often a direct reflection of what they learned from those at home.