Chapter Twelve

ELIAS

 

That night, after Harley was tucked away in bed, I finally had a moment to stop and think. And to freak out about everything that was happening. I paced the living room, my heart going a million miles a minute – which was barely keeping pace with my mind.

Maybe I really should consider packing up and leave everything behind. Just get the fuck out of there and start somewhere fresh. Maybe we could run away, go overseas. England. Spain. Germany – I bet there was a lot of work to be had for tattoo artists in Germany. Fuck if I knew where. But somewhere. Anywhere.

Pacing the living room of my apartment, it really hit me how much trouble we could be in if we stayed there and did nothing.

I'd run far away – to another country, another planet if needed – before I ever let Amy's parents take Harley away from me. Knowing what I did about them, about how terribly they'd fucked Amy up, I wasn't about them anywhere near Harley. And I sure as hell wasn't about to let Amy's dad near my daughter without supervision. Without my supervision. He'd completely fucked his daughter up and there was no way in hell I was going to let him fuck Harley up too.

Which was a certainty if she were exposed to that toxic as hell environment.

As I paced the room, I found it hard to resist the siren call of alcohol. Or worse. Back in the day, it had been my coping mechanism. It had been my escape. My way of escaping the reality of my life. At least for a while. Eventually, the buzz had worn off and I was still stuck in the same pile of shit I had been before I got drunk or stoned – but at least, for a while, I'd been able escape it.

But that was the difference between my life then and my life now. I was no longer looking to escape reality. I was taking it head on and dealing with it. I hadn't had a sip of beer or liquor – or anything else, for that matter – since Amy had gone away.

Knowing how easy it was for me to fall down the rabbit hole of substance abuse, I stayed clean for Harley. It was hard as hell – and sometimes, like right that moment, when it was harder than others – but I managed it. For her. I was all she had left in this world, the only person to put her first. The only person who loved her like she should be loved.

And now my past was coming back to haunt me, threatening everything I'd built with her. Threatening to tear everything down.

There was an unexpected knock on my door that made me jump out of my skin.

“Holy fuck,” I muttered to myself, glancing at the clock.

It was a little after eight in the evening, but it felt later. Still, no one ever stopped by my place, which made me worry – and not without good reason, given everything that was happening. With my pulse racing, I looked over at the gun safe and considered grabbing one just in case it came to that.

But then a voice called from the other side of the door, stopping me in my tracks. I looked at the door, considered who was on the other side of it and felt a rush of paranoia.

“Elias? It's me, Paige – ” she called softly. “We need to talk.”

With a heavy sigh and more than a little trepidation, I opened the door. I quickly glanced behind her to make sure she was alone and not being forced to stand there. I felt a small wave of relief seeing that she was alone. I stared at her but didn't invite her inside. Instead, I stood in the doorway and looked at her for a long moment without saying anything. Her face was a mixture of annoyance and concern, but she seemed content to wait me out, to wait for me invite her in.

“What are you doing here?” I finally asked.

“I'm sorry for dropping by like this,” she said. “You weren't answering your phone and – ”

“My phone is on silent,” I explained. “I don't take calls while I'm with my daughter usually.”

It was a new rule. One I instituted ever since this shit with Mav started. He was already stirring up enough shit in my life, so I just wanted some alone, quiet time with my girl to focus on her and only her. But as I looked at Paige, another thought occurred to me.

“How did you know – ”

“Where you live? Your name is in our database at the school,” she said, biting her lip. “Along with your address. I'm sorry I invaded your privacy like this, but I needed to talk to you and was I desperate, okay? It's about Harley.”

As soon as she mentioned my daughter's name – in a nearly panicked tone – I opened the door wider and invited her inside. She stepped inside my apartment and looked around, obvious surprise coloring her features.

“Not what you expected for someone who attends your prestigious school?” I asked, taking her astonishment for judgment.

“No, it's not that,” she said. “It's actually – nice.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I make a decent living,” I said. “Not exactly what you expected from a tattoo artist, huh?”

“Honestly? Not really,” she said, looking away from my gaze. “I mean, not that I was judging – ”

“You were judging me,” I said with a laugh. “It's okay. A lot of people do. Especially at that school. I've got thick skin. It doesn't bother me all that much anymore.”

Her face turned pink, and I suddenly felt bad for making her feel bad.

“Listen, I don't make a lot of money, but I do okay,” I said. “I do the best I can, anyway.”

“I can see that,” she said, meeting my gaze for the first time. “Which is why I'm here to talk to you about Harley.”

She sat down on the loveseat, I took the couch and leaned forward, clasping my hands in front of me.

“Okay,” I said. “So, talk.”

“Principal Fisher stopped by my room today and wanted to talk about Harley,” she said with a sigh. “I guess some of the other parents are concerned about her, thinking maybe the school isn't a good fit for her – ”

“You mean they're concerned about me,” I corrected her, rolling my eyes.

Self-righteous pricks. I figured it was most likely the dads who were raising a stink. They were probably jealous that I made their wives think dirty, dirty thoughts. That wasn't ego or cockiness talking, either. I'd seen the way they looked at me. Had even had a few of them offer to take me for a ride to a local hotel in their nice luxury cars. I knew some of those women were into me and that it probably made their husbands insanely jealous – not to mention, more than a little insecure.

“That's not what he said,” she said. “He actually said – ”

“I don't give a fuck what he says,” I said. “I know what he means. When they see me, they see nothing more than a lower class person. One step up from a bum on the street – a small step, mind you. They look down their noses at me and think I'm not deserving of being on their sacred school grounds. Everyone there thinks lesser of me. I've known it from day one, but I don't give a fuck. My daughter's education is the most important thing to me, so they can all just fuck off.”

“I don't,” she said, her eyes softening. “I don't think of you that way.”

“You did,” I said. “And sometimes times, I swear you still do.”

“Maybe a little?” she said softly. “But not for the reasons you think. Believe it or not, I don't come from money either. Honestly, I barely make enough to get by. No, the reason I judged you at all is silly and ridiculous – ”

“If not about the money, then what is it?” I asked, genuinely curious. “The way I look? The way I dress?”

“No, it's just – well, as an artist, as somebody who spent a lot of years studying art, I thought lesser of your art form,” she said. “I admit, it was snooty as hell. And that was before I saw your work. It's stunning, Elias. Incredible. You're a very talented artist. That's when I realized art can come in any number of mediums – it doesn't have to be confined to a canvas. You opened my eyes to that.”

I leaned back in my seat and stared at her, practically in shock. I knew she viewed my work as a lesser form of art. Knew she looked down on it. Or at least, had. So, to hear her admit that she'd been wrong and was actually very complimentary of my work – it actually meant a lot to me.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “And now I feel bad because I haven't seen any of your actual work.”

“It's nothing special,” she said, shrugging it off. “I'm not as good as I thought I was back in high school. I'm a better teacher than an artist.”

“Well you are a good teacher,” I said. “But I don't doubt your artistic abilities aren't just as good.”

“Nah, I don't – ” she started. “Well, if you would like to see it sometime...”

“I'd love to check out your work,” I said. “Who knows, maybe you'll inspire me? I wouldn't doubt it. You are after all, a trained artist.”

She blushed and stared down at her hands. “Come by after you drop Harley off sometime this week,” I said. “And I'll show you some of my work.”

I knew I should stay away from her. I didn't want to put her in any sort of danger. And for a second, I considered making an excuse to avoid going by her classroom. But I could tell by the look on her face that me simply asking to see her work made her feel good. I got the impression that not many people had. And I couldn't take that away from her.

“Sounds good,” I said with a smile.

“Oh, drats,” she said, and I tried not to laugh at her using the word “drats”. “We need to be careful though. Principal Fisher is looking for any reason to think Harley is struggling in school as a reason to revoke her scholarship. And he mentioned that somebody said we'd been talking a lot, taking that as proof that she was having trouble.”

“He did?”

“Yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But I told him we only talked about how talented Harley is, and that I only had good things to say about her. He's apparently on a witch hunt, so we need to be careful.”

We need to be careful. The story of my life these days.

“They can't kick her out,” I said. “Can they?”

She shrugged. “He said it had more to do with her scholarship,” she replied. “I guess they reassess those every year? I had no idea honestly. But I got the impression that if she weren't doing well in school, they could revoke it and you'd have to come up with the full tuition on your own if you wanted to keep her there.”

Placing my face in my hands, I sighed and cursed under my breath. Yes, Harley was on a scholarship to pay her dues at the fancy, private school. Our local school wasn't very good or safe, and I doubted the quality of education she'd get there. The classroom sizes were way too big, the teachers were overworked and being pulled in a million different directions.

It wasn't their fault, it was just how things were. And I wanted better for my girl. I wanted her to have options I never had. I wanted her to have a good, quality education – something that could help open doors for her.

So when I'd filled out the scholarship application, I didn't have high hopes, but thought it was worth a shot. Amy's mom had connections and yes, I'd utilized those connections to help make sure my daughter had a shot at getting the education I wanted for her. Now, of course, I had to wonder if Amy's parents weren't also the reason they would reassess my daughter and possibly revoke the scholarship. They knew I wouldn't be able to afford her tuition – but they could.

I was competely consumed by my thoughts and worries, and it was only when I felt a presence next to me that I looked up to find Paige sitting beside me, a sad look in her eyes.

“I'll do anything in my power to help you, Elias,” she said. “Because I don't think it's right. Harley has every right to be in this school, she's a bright, talented little girl. She works harder than half the spoiled little brats that go there. And I'll work with Principal Fisher, doing everything I can to make sure she keeps her scholarship in place.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I yearned to reach out and to touch her, to kiss her again. To show her how much her concern meant to me. But I knew that was just asking for trouble. Knew that was opening a door neither one of us should walk through. Not with everything going on and the potential for things to get real bad, real quick.

“That means a lot,” I said softly. “I appreciate it.”

“I adore Harley,” she said. “I mean, I know I was concerned by some of her artwork initially, but at the same time, I can see that you're raising her right. That you're raising an incredible little girl. And doing it on your own, which makes it all the more impressive. And I believe she deserves a good education. And you – well, you're a good father, Elias. One of the best I've met at that school, quite honestly.”

She leaned forward, and for a second, I thought she was going to kiss me. But instead, she wiped something off my cheek with her fingertip.

“Sorry, you had an eyelash – ”

I took her hand in mine and held it, staring deep into her eyes.

“Elias – ” she started to say, but then she leaned forward just as I leaned closer.

I felt her warm breath on my cheek again, and it felt just as good as it had earlier. Closing my eyes, I pressed my lips to hers.

“I don't know if we – ” she said, pulling away from the kiss.

“Yeah, you're probably right,” I said, pulling away and feeling sheepish about kissing her, yet again.

“I mean, I want to – ”

And when she looked up at me, I saw it in her eyes clear as day. She wanted me. She wanted this. But she was scared. Scared I would push her away again. Pulling back and making me take that step to bridge the divide was her way of making sure I was into it.

“I want to too,” I said softly.

“Really?” she asked, biting her lip as she stared up at me. “I mean, you just seem so – and well, I seem so – I mean, I don't seem like your type.”

Laughing softly, I shook my head and was forced to admit that she was right. She was a little too uptight, a little too sweet. Normally not the kind of girl I fell for. No one – and I mean no one – I'd ever dated before was as clean-cut and goody-goody as she was. I didn't usually pursue the girl-next-door types – I usually chased the bad girls.

But, there was something about Paige that appealed to me. Maybe I'd grown up and had learned from experience that the girls I used to date – girls like Amy – weren't good for me. They were actually everything I didn't need in my life. And I knew they wouldn't be good for Harley.

What I did need? Stability. Someone sane enough to deal with my crazy life and keep me on the straight and narrow.

Someone like Paige.

Except, of course – my life was currently a shitshow and that was the last thing she needed. Hell, she didn't even know what she'd be getting herself into by getting together with me.

Still, I couldn't resist reaching out to her, stroking the soft skin of her cheek and looking deep into her eyes.

“You're beautiful, smart, artistic,” I said. “What's not to like about you?”

My praise seemed to embolden her, and she reached over and without a word, pulled my t-shirt off over my head. With a naughty littlel grin, she ran her fingernails down my chest and abs, tracing the outline of the anchor tattoo on my chest with her fingers.

“And here, I thought I wasn't your type,” I teased.

“You're not,” she said, giving me a cheeky grin. “But you're sexy as hell, so I think I can let that slide.”

“You're pretty sexy yourself,” I said, feeling myself growing hard just looking at her.

To imagine bending her over and having my way with her was tempting. So fucking tempting. But I wasn't good for her. I would be inviting a whole host of shit into her life if I did what I really wanted to do in that moment. It would be better for the both of us if I pulled back. I had to resist. I had to –

She kissed me, climbing onto my lap and straddling me as she did so. With her hands in my hair and her body pressed tightly to mine, there was no way I could fight back. And I realized in that moment, as I squeezed her ass with my hands that I didn't want to. I was already too far gone.

She pulled her shirt off, exposing a pair of perky breasts that were just the right size for my hands. Her smile grew sultry and she ground herself against my ever hardening cock. And in that moment, I knew that I was a goner.

“Is Harley asleep?” she asked, nibbling my ear.

“She's out cold,” I whispered. “In the room down the hall.”

“So we have to be quiet, huh?”

I glanced down at the hallway, and I knew I could use my daughter as an excuse if I wanted to stop what was happening. She was literally right there and her door was open a bit. I knew she could come out at any moment, wanting a drink of water, or having had a bad dream, or any other host of reasons. If I wanted to stop what we were doing – and my rational mind told me that I absolutely should – I had an easy out.

But it wasn't my rational mind that was in charge at that moment.

“I don't think we should – ”

I started to turn her away, but she pressed her body down on my cock and the sensation was too much for me to continue with that particular train of thought. Instead, I finished the sentence much differently than I'd intended.

“I don't think we should do anything in here,” I said. “Let's go to my bedroom.”

Paige nodded, hopping off of me and taking my hand. She was obviously very eager, and I couldn't say no. Well, I could, but my stupid man brain made it impossible to resist a sexy woman like Paige who was literally dragging me to bed with her. I was a warm blooded man with needs and desires, after all. And watching the way Paige's ass fit in those jeans of hers – she ticked off quite a few of my needs, that was for sure.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked her. “I mean, are you sure you want to get caught up with me? You've seen the trouble I bring along for the ride. Or at least, you got a little taste of it. So, are you – ”

She kissed me again, pushing me into my bedroom and shutting me up in an instant.

“Does this look like a woman who has doubts?” she asked, dropping her pants as she kicked the door closed.

“No, but – ”

I wanted to tell her it was more complicated than all that. Way more complicated than she was probably thining. I wanted to tell her that I was caught up in some heavy shit and I was afraid that if she hooked up with me, she was inviting the blowback onto her as well. But I could tell there was no way to change her mind – and honestly, I didn't want to. In that moment, all I wanted was her.

I dropped my pants and pushed her down on my bed, kissing her lips, then her neck and collarbone. She gasped as I moved lower down onto her, stopping to suck on her nipple. Her body arched upward as she gasped, then she laughed as if surprised by her own sounds.

“I'll try to be quiet,” she said.

“Hopefully, I make it very, very hard for you to do that,” I said, moving lower until I was situated between her legs.

As I stared up at her from between her thighs, I could smell her. And she smelled so delicious and amazing. My cock already felt like it was going to explode with yearning. But I wanted to make her feel good. Wanted to get her off like she'd never gotten off before.

Sinking down between her soft, smooth thighs, I circled her clit with my tongue, teasing her as much as I could until she begged me for more.

“Please, Eli, please!”

She pulled on my hair, pulling me up on top of her, and as I stared down into her beautiful eyes. I wanted nothing more than to be with her. Be inside of her. Be completely joined with her. All thoughts and fears of my shitty life were gone, and all that mattered was Paige Cleary.

My daughter's teacher.

And for some reason, the idea of fucking a teacher only made things sexier for me.