The Bad Guy

I shook my head. “I don’t want you to be in pain.”

She gave me a strange look. One I couldn’t quite place. Confusion, perhaps, given the vein in her right temple pulsed a bit more quickly than usual. “I’m fine.”

“Can I at least help you—”

“No. Just lead on. I’ll follow.” She gestured toward the hallway.

“All right.” I sauntered ahead of her, walking slowly so she wouldn’t struggle to keep up. I wished she would have just let me carry her. If she hurt, I wanted it to be from my hands—the sort of hurt she’d enjoy. She wouldn’t admit it, but I could feel the heat in her touch, the warmth in her gaze. I recognized a piece of myself inside her, and thankfully, it was a piece with darkened edges.

We passed Timothy coming from the back hall.

“We good?” I asked.

“Everything’s ready.” He nodded and flattened his back to the wall as we passed.

“What’s ready?” Camille shuffled along next to me.

“You’ll see.” My palms turned clammy and began to sweat as we turned down the corridor that ran along the back of the house. What if she didn’t like what I had in store?

I pushed through the music room that ran under the opposite wing of the house and stopped. “This next thing is…” I coughed. “It’s my best approximation of what you would want. Don’t expect excellence right away. But with your guidance on what you’d prefer, I will make it perfect for you.”

A soft look passed across her eyes again before her jaw tightened and she shook her head. “Just show me already.”

“All right.” I took a deep breath and pushed the heavy mahogany door open.

She stepped inside and gasped.

19

Camille

Glass reflected high overhead, the panes joining in a peaked roof two stories above us. Clear walls rose to create a cathedral of sunlight and blue sky above. Four long rows of tables sat on a floor covered in small river rocks. Each table was equipped with misters and fans at intervals, and almost every inch of space was taken up by some bit of life—greenery, flowers, fruits, and vegetables. Fertile earth, the scent that made my blood sing in my veins, met my nose as I walked forward.

The sun streamed in from the right, but the air inside remained cool. Large vents ran along the back of the greenhouse, and huge fans hung along the four corners of the massive structure. My mouth dropped open as I took it all in.

“Like I said, it’s not perfect, but they just finished construction yesterday, and it was a rush job.” He walked past me. “These are some samples from your classroom. And I had these taken from your section of Trenton’s greenhouse.” He pointed to a line of pots with various green shoots sprouting through the dark soil. “The ones along the outer wall are all special varieties that I had flown in from the Amazon. The heaters”—he pointed to smaller fans along the back of the row—“keep the temperature optimal for them, or so I’m told. Also, they have a misting timer that functions more often than the others.”

I hadn’t moved, could only stare at the walls of glass and the long rows of plants.

“The entire place is customizable any way you’d like. My groundskeeper, Gerry, will be at your disposal. Anything you need, he’ll get it.”

I walked down the long row of plants, right down the center of the greenhouse. The smooth rocks settled under my feet with each step, and I trailed my fingers along the waxy tropical leaves, then the softer stems of the young vegetables. The mister next to me kicked on, spraying a long row of young tomato plants with a fine sheen of water. Rainbows fanned into view as the sunlight had its way with the moisture. I’d never seen a more beautiful greenhouse.

“I know it’s not what you’re used to…”

If I were honest, it was far better than the dinky greenhouse at Trenton that I’d been trying for years to revamp. Funding had never come through, despite my repeated requests to the headmistress and our board. My mind vibrated with the possibilities laid out before me, the experiments I could perform, the sheer variety of the materials arranged on the tables. Some of the plants in the room were nearly priceless, harder to get than precious jewels.

I turned and peered up at him, his emerald eyes highlighted by the greenery surrounding us. “You did all this for me?”

“Yes.” His gaze didn’t leave mine. “I’d do anything for you. Except let you go.”

“This is insane.” I was falling, yet standing still. He made me feel things I didn’t want, awakened my senses even as I shied away from him.

“No.” He moved closer, heat coming off him in waves. With the scratches I’d put along his face and neck the previous day, he was more wild animal than man. “This is exactly as it should be.”