Defy (Sinners of Saint 0.5)

“Not scared of you or of getting kicked out of town,” I retorted, only half doing it to push back at her. “Jaime was eighteen. This wasn’t illegal.”

“But it’s still forbidden,” she yelled, throwing her hands in the air. I turned and moved for the door. She jerked me by the arm, making me slam to a halt. “Your teaching career will be over, and I’ll make certain the La Belle arson sticks to you.”

Her hand wrapped around my elbow. “My deal is off the table the minute you step out of this office. I’ll call the police, Melody, and we all know who they work for.”

Yes. The Spencers, who would stop at nothing to cover their son’s ass. Just like Principal Followhill.

“You do that.” I shook her away, fake smile and bravado plastered on my face. “See how it turns out.”

I pivoted again, bolting to the door, but Jaime’s mom—my boyfriend’s mom—yanked me back into her office and shut it with a bang I was sure it was audible to everyone in the hallway.

“Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? I’m giving you a way out. Just leave my son alone, and I’ll take care of the La Belle mess.”

“I don’t care what you do about that boat,” I hissed into her face. My lips were trembling and my nose stung. There was nothing I wanted more than to scream and tear her office apart. I had to stay collected for Jaime’s sake and the future of my career outside of All Saints High. “It’s not my mess. Jaime courted me. Hell, Jaime manipulated me. Maybe he does have a bit of his mom in him after all. But the bottom line is we’re together, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Those were the last words I told her before I managed to free myself from her grasp and get the hell out of there.

And those words would bite me in the ass later that day.

“FUCK,” JAIME MUTTERED, HIS ARM extended above my shoulder, propped on the wall I was leaning against. He ran his other hand through his hair, frustrated.

I nodded, trying to regulate my breaths. He didn’t have time to be mad, and he knew it. Rubbing his face and shaking his head, his gaze moved between me and the school building. We were tucked behind the concession stand at the footfall field, near the student parking lot.

“What the fuck, man? You followed me?”

“Hey, you knew where I lived, worked out, what I eat for breakfast, and my insurance carrier, all before we even kissed.” I arched an eyebrow, reminding him that we were as bad as each other. At least when it came to one another. “She’s got my necklace, and Toby says it was me.”

“Of course he does.” Jaime jerked me to him, squeezing me into a painful hug. “He’d never rat us out. The ball-less little dick. Your necklace was convenient. If he knew what you meant to me, he would’ve found another sorry-ass to blame.”

“Your mother doesn’t make idle threats. She’s got connections everywhere. And the Rowlands are powerful, too. I’m a no one.”

“Not true. You’re my someone.” He brushed his knuckles against my temple.

“I’m not going to jail,” I stressed.

He shook his head. “Over my dead body, Little Ballerina. Let me talk to my mom.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I’m not sure I fucking care.”

He left me, heading to his mother’s office. At first, I stayed rooted in place, watching his broad back disappear behind the double doors of the school building. My fingers travelled to my naked collarbone, looking for my anchor, but it wasn’t there.

Jaime was my anchor now. I had no one to trust but him.

A few minutes after he left, I walked to the teacher’s lot and waited by my car, chewing on my nails. I was supposed to teach a class but had been excused for the rest of the day. I hated waiting for the verdict, for Jaime to try and persuade his mom not to frame me for something we all knew I didn’t do.

Ten minutes after he walked into her office, my cell phone buzzed.

“Join us,” he commanded, in a tone I couldn’t decode.

I did.

My knees wobbled and my breath sputtered as I walked the hallways of All Saints for what I had a feeling would be the last time. I knocked on Followhill’s door and marched in.

“Come.” Jaime patted a spot on the burgundy leather sofa beside him, his eyes hard on his mom. He was sitting in front of her, and it looked like her desk was the only thing keeping them from pouncing at each other. The air was thick with revulsion.

Jaime’s expression was frustratingly blank. When I tried to read his mother’s face, I didn’t see love or compassion, either. Just disappointment…and urgency. Urgency to keep a legacy, to protect her family name. To keep the pride, money, and a lot of other tasteless shit in order.