Physical Distraction (The Physical Series Book 3) Page 17

  In less than a month, Dylan had found himself willing to lay himself out and risk everything for this girl. She was sunshine and light. And she made him happier than he’d ever been before.

  Dylan wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her tightly against him, and the other hand slipping through the tendrils of her hair.

  “You’re not getting rid of me that easily tonight. I’m going to be right by your side tonight, to help you ring in the new year. I’ll be the last kiss you have this year, and your first fuck of the new year. You better damn well believe it.”

  Pressing his lips to hers, Dylan coaxed her mouth open as he set to work confirming with actions exactly what he planned on doing to her the rest of the night. As the kiss deepened, Sloane whimpered into his hot, open mouth. Stepping back, he looked down at her slightly swollen, pink lips. Her face was flushed, from the champagne and the heat of their exchange, and her sideways grin made her nose scrunch up in an adorable way.

  “I don’t want you to go back,” he proclaimed, before he could even stop himself.

  Sloane opened her eyes, her eyebrows cocked in confusion. “But I have to. I can’t expect my employees to do all the work on such a busy night…” She was about to continue, but he stopped her.

  He shook his head. “No, not the bar. I mean, I don’t want you to leave Boston. I want you to stay here. With me,” he thumped his chest with his fist. “You belong here with me.”

  Oh Jesus…now he’d gone and done it. Sloane’s eyes widened in shock and he seriously felt his heart break open before she even said another word. He saw exactly what she was thinking flash across her face. And it was not joy or excitement over his stupid declaration. He’d gone and fucked it all up.

  Sloane looked panicked. Dylan feared if she hadn’t been in his arms, she would have turned and ran, probably screaming, for the door.

  “Dylan…you don’t mean that. We talked about this already. I never planned on staying here – or leaving San Diego permanently. That’s just…it’s just not an option.” Her head bent low, her soulful brown eyes cast downward. She looked sad.

  Shit. He didn’t mean to ruin the evening. He lifted her chin with his fingers, taking in her beautiful, downcast features.

  “Sloane, please. I’m sorry. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I…I lo –”

  His declaration was halted with a loud rendition of Kiss’s Rock and Roll All Night from several of the party guests in the back of the room using the karaoke machine. Sloane’s head turned abruptly at the interruption and Dylan felt the moment was lost.

  But now that he knew what he felt for Sloane, he’d go to the ends of the earth to keep her. And he’d start by proving that he loved her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Five days into the New Year and Sloane was a basket case. This was not how the beginning of a year should start out.

  So much had happened to her over the last two months – her life had literally changed in a blink of an eye. Or more accurately, it was turned upside down after that first email she saw in Blaine’s inbox. And since then, it had gone from bad to worse, with a small helping of Dylan thrown in for good measure – just to toy with her emotions.

  Her feelings toward Dylan were small potatoes in comparison to the magnitude of the letter that she now held in her hand. The weight of it was no more than an ounce, but it carried the weight of the world. It would be the meteor that came crashing through her orbit and buried her alive.

  It had been thrown in the mix with all the other bar mail, but the sender name and address immediately caught her attention. San Diego Board of Education, District 28. It was a follow-up letter after the first one she’d received a week before, announcing the actions they would be taking against her.

  With nervous hands, Sloane opened the letter and began to read as the subject line had her gasping for air. She couldn’t breathe.

  RE: Notice of Temporary Suspension with Pay

  Dear Miss Fitzgerald:

  This is to notify you that you are temporarily suspended with pay pending investigation under Board Policy 04.172.

  I have determined that there is justifiable need of investigation of your alleged knowledge of the sexual misconduct and inappropriate behavior related to students within the district school. I feel that your suspension is necessary to prevent significant disruption within the school and to protect the safety of the students.

  During your suspension, you will not contact staff or students within the school district, without permission and prior approval from the Superintendent. You may, however, be in contact with your Teacher’s Union Advisor, but you may not meet on school district property.

  I would like to schedule an investigation meeting with you next week, Tuesday January 12, in my office in the District Administration building on Sycamore Ave. If you wish to be present with representation, please notify me prior to the meeting with the name of your agent.

  Your failure to comply with these requirements may result in further disciplinary action being taken, up to and including termination. Please contact me with any further questions.

  Thank you.

  Best Regards,

  Charles R. Randolph, Superintendent

  The letter floated onto the unopened pile of mail, Sloane’s hands shaking so hard they looked like withdrawal tremors. Tears flooded her eyes, as she blinked several times to clear her vision.

  How could this happen to her? Not less than three months ago she’d been nominated for Rookie Teacher of the Year. Sloane was a revered educator, and an upstanding citizen in her community. She had never even had a hint of trouble while she was a student in school. And as a professional adult, she always held herself above the standard, aiming to be a role model for her students, parents and colleagues.

  And for what? For being blind in love with a man who apparently didn’t share the same level of integrity as she did? Who didn’t operate under the same moral code of ethics, and inadvertently ruined her reputation and made her guilty by association?

  A week from now, she was required to be back in California to attend the hearing. The question that concerned her was how any of this had gotten out so fast. She had still been debating over going to Blaine’s school principal and notifying him of what she knew. But apparently her school was already aware of Blaine’s affair. But how?

  Needing to get to the bottom of it, she picked up the phone to call Trista.

  “Hello?” Trista answered on the third ring, her voice full of sleep.

  “Hey, it’s me. So I have some bad news…”

  Sloane didn’t make it any further when Trista jumped in.

  “Oh my God, Sloane. I was going to call you this morning. I am in complete shock. Arrested? Holy shit, that is insane.”

  Wait, what? Arrested? Who was arrested?

  Trying to clear her brain fog, Sloane sat down on the couch and placed her head in her hand, the other holding the phone to her ear.

  “Tris, back up. Who was arrested? What are you talking about?”

  There was a loud gasp on the phone.

  “Crap, Sloane. You don’t know yet? It’s Blaine. He was arrested last night. It’s all over the local news. Apparently he’s being charged with sexual misconduct with a minor, and possible criminal sexual acts. He’s in jail, Sloane! You didn’t know?”

  No. No, no, no, no, no.

  This couldn’t be happening. It was all just a nightmare. A horrible dream that she’d wake up from at any moment. She’d find herself back in her bed in San Diego. All of this – the emails, the pictures of Blaine, the affair, his misconduct, the inference that she was involved somehow, the suspension from her job…it would all be washed away because it was all untrue.

  Panic attacks are no laughing matter. The one thundering through Sloane at the moment was a fifty on a scale of one to ten. She choked for air, coughing and wheezing as if someone was cutting off her air supply with a noose. Hyperventilating, her chest was thick with anxiety, filled with gr
ief and uncertainty. She’d be ruined.

  Her reputation as a teacher was sure to be crushed the minute Blaine’s association with Sloane was made public and word circled that she was somehow aware. Sloane would be nailed to a cross and considered guilty by association, condemned as his partner in crime.

  The possibility of the media exposing the allegations and the charges against Blaine would immediately bring Sloane into the epicenter of the storm. Even though she had nothing to do with Blaine’s misconduct, it might even appear that she was in hiding and ran away to Boston because of it.

  These things happened all the time to family members of accused public figures.

  The parents of the young gunman who shot up a school. Accused of unknowingly raising a monster.

  The wife of the politician who is found to have syphoned monies from political campaigns. Accused of turning her back on the crime.

  The children of the celebrity father who murders their mother. Condemned to a life in the spotlight for their dad’s crime.

  Life wasn’t fair. Injustices happened. And Sloane was now going to suffer from those injustices.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  Oh my God. What about her parents? If this was already on the news, her parents must’ve already heard about it, right? Or maybe because they were in Tahoe, they hadn’t received any news from the San Diego area yet. She prayed she could get to them before the media did.

  “Sloane, are you okay? What’s going on? Please, talk to me. I’m scared for you.”

  “Tris, I just got a letter of suspension from Superintendent Randolph. They think I’m an accomplice. I have to attend a hearing or meeting next week in front of the school board. They think I know something about Blaine’s misconduct and didn’t do anything about it. And I sort of did…know. I just hadn’t decided what I was going to do about it.”

  A loud curse blasted through the phone receiver.

  “WHAT?” Trista’s voice squealed three octaves higher than normal. “Are you serious? You knew about it and didn’t report it?”

  Sloane shook her head in denial. How could she divulge this horrible secret, even to her best friend, when all she wanted to do was hide the anguish she felt forever?

  “No, not exactly. I found emails in Blaine’s inbox. They started right before the holidays. I had no idea it was with a student...or who she was. I was just in shock that Blaine was…cheating on me. I felt like such a blind fool. I only saw a few. And when I confronted him about it, he initially denied it. Said it was all made up by one of his students. But the pictures were pretty damning, so he finally came clean. But he told me she wasn’t a minor. Anyway, that’s the reason I broke off our engagement and came to Boston. And I was thinking over what I needed to do when I got back. I was going to come forward…”

  Silence now.

  “Oh my God, Tris. This is so bad. I…I don’t know what to do.”

  Looking back at it now, Sloane should have done something about it immediately. She should have gone to the school board then. Handed over the evidence to allow for an investigation and not leave it up to Blaine to do the right thing. But she didn’t. She was a coward. And now it looked like she was an accomplice to his misconduct.

  “Oh, Sloane. Oh Jesus. I’m so sorry,” Trista whispered, her dismay and sorrow evident in her expressive voice. And then, as if she had taken a solidifying breath, she laid out a plan. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

  Sloane could visualize Trista sitting up straighter, her lips pursed in concentration, and her brow furrowed with resolve. Her friend had always been the problem-solver. Determined in every aspect of her life. Ready to fight the fight, walk the walk, stand up for the falsely accused. Just like she was doing now.

  “You are going to have your parents hire you a lawyer.”

  “But–”

  “No, no buts. There is only one person worth protecting right now, and that’s you. Get yourself an attorney, hand over any emails you have access to or anything else that might be considered evidence, go to that school board investigation meeting and clear your perfect name. Do you understand me? And I will be right there by your side. You will not go through this alone.”

  God she loved this woman. So fiercely loyal. She’d been that way since the day they met in college.

  Sloane stayed on the phone with Trista as she made her flight reservations and confirmed that Trista would pick her up at the airport the following Monday. After ending the call, she took a deep breath, knowing she couldn’t put off calling her mother any longer.

  She hated relying on her parents help, but knew this situation was too big for her to go it alone. Trista was right. Sloane would need a good attorney to assist her in clearing her name. And a good lawyer cost money, which she didn’t have. But her parents did.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  He was acting like a chick. A head-over-heels-in-love, sitting-by-the-phone-waiting, why-hasn’t-she-called chick.

  And he wanted to kick himself in the balls for being such a pussy. That is, if he still had any balls. Because chicks definitely did not have testicles.

  Dylan drained the last drop of the beer he’d been drinking and pondered his new annoying female-type trait. He was supposed to be celebrating tonight because he’d heard back from Estelle Collins, Charlie’s wife, about creating a custom-made art piece for a client’s new commercial building in Cambridge. He’d met with Estelle that morning to discuss the commissioned project, what the client wanted, and how much he’d expect to be paid.

  The amount alone was staggering. How did people afford to shell out that kind of money on inanimate objects? He could afford to purchase a new home and a new car with the money they were offering. But he wasn’t a fool. He’d accept it and sock it away so that he could start his own business in the near future.

  It was all so exciting, the way things had turned around for him. Two years ago, his life had looked bleak. Monotonous. After losing several of his teammates in Afghanistan, he’d returned to the States wondering what the hell the meaning of life really was about. While he’d come home to a job, which many of his unit didn’t have, and his family, Dylan had fallen into a bit of a depression. He barely functioned some days, just living his life day-in-day-out, without much ambition. Some mornings, he woke blurry-eyed after a night of boozing, an unfamiliar woman in his bed, and fought the urge to scream in despair. Sure, he had some fun living the single life, but it all seemed pretty meaningless and vapid.

  But the last month had shown him that he could want bigger things out of life – dream big. Such as making a name for himself through his art. And finding the love of a good woman.

  The particular woman in question, however, hadn’t called him in several days. The last he’d heard from her was that she had to return to San Diego for some meeting for work. But that had been days ago. Since then, he kept trying to get in touch with her, through every communication tactic known to man. Each time his calls, texts, messages, and emails went unanswered. By the third day, he was worried and stopped into Fitzgerald’s to try and talk to her in person. Staci was behind the bar.

  “Hey, have you heard from Sloane at all?”

  Staci was drying out a beer mug when he asked, and she kept her eyes averted from him. She shook her head.

  “No. I haven’t. But I’ve been off since Tuesday. You could check with Donnie or Curtis.”

  “Um, okay…they here?”

  This time, Staci looked up, her lips in a tight line and gave a noncommittal shrug.

  “I don’t know, dude. Donnie isn’t, but Curtis is back in the kitchen. All I know is that Sloane had to leave and told Curtis to handle things while she was gone. That she didn’t know when she’d be back. That was the last we heard.”

  What the hell?

  “I’m really sorry, Dylan. That’s all I know.”

  Staci gave him a conciliatory half-shrug and turned her back to him, leaving Dylan to wonder what the hell was going on. Why would Sloane leave Bosto
n without warning? Surely she’d be back soon. There’s no way she’d leave without saying goodbye in person, right? Or leave things hanging with the bar. She’d put so much sweat equity in this thing to leave it unfinished. That wasn’t like the woman he fell for.

  It’s not like Dylan hadn’t known Sloane would move back to San Diego eventually. That was her plan all along. But what Dylan wasn’t expecting was the sudden, secret departure – rushing off like she was thief in the night. And she truly was a thief, because she’d walked away with his heart.

  He could feel the emptiness creeping in. There was a hole now in the space that once was the organ that beat in recognition of Sloane. Knowing her, being with her, completed him. She was like finding the missing piece of the puzzle he’d been looking for all his life. Sloane just fit. Made him whole. And he thought she felt it, too.

  Although she never led on to anything more serious, he saw it in her eyes. Felt it in her touches. Heard it in her words.

  Frustrated with being made to feel like a fool, Dylan pulled out his cell and typed out a text, his thumbs punching the buttons like they were being punished.

  Are you coming back? What about the bar? I’m not done yet.

  What he really meant to say was that he wasn’t done yet with her. She wasn’t out of his system. He needed more. Wanted more time. He couldn’t let her go yet. It was too soon. It wasn’t enough.

  A few minutes later, he received a reply.

  I’ll have a check given to you for your work. It’s on the market now. I’m sorry, Dylan. I don’t think I’ll be back.

  So that’s it? No goodbye or nothing? WTF?

  Yeah, he sounded like a broken-hearted chick, but fuck it. She couldn’t just leave like this. It just wasn’t how it was done. He needed closure. An opportunity to say a proper goodbye. To hold her one last time.