Stalked by my Professor Novel

Chapter 42 Pepper spray? I scoff to myself as I start up my Tesla and guide it out of the parking bay. The second half of the game just began, but my appetite for sport leans more toward hunting than football. I only came here to make an appearance...and to see if Haven would grace us with her presence. A soft drizzle mists up my windshield as I turn onto the main road exiting the stadium. I thought Haven was stronger than this. All it took was a glimpse of her past, and she was ready to gouge out everyone's eyes.

While I love pressing on a fresh bruise, I recognized that feral look in her eyes when I approached her. She's ready to run again. And this time, she'll make sure no one can find her. Not me, not Kai, not her atrocious father. I'll admit, seeing Robert Lee in the flesh came as a shock. Now I understand why Haven goes to such lengths to avoid talking about her past. We'd both rather leave those memories buried six feet deep. Hers, unfortunately, clawed its way out...and is currently plodding through the growing puddles on the sidewalk up ahead.

I pull up alongside a damp, limping Bobby Lee outside the stadium's entrance. A limp courtesy of the violent kick Kai landed in his side a few minutes ago. The boy only got in a few shots, but if I hadn't grabbed Kai's arm and hauled him away, I doubt Bobby would be walking anywhere. There was murder in Kai's eyes. Wonder if he looked at his brother the same way at the Rain Dance before he caved in Ezra's face? Drizzle splatters onto my windshield, flicked away by the Tesla's wiper blades as if the car can't stand being wet. "Mr. Lee," I call through the lowered window.

"Need a ride to the bus station? I'm headed that direction." He turns, lips twisted with suspicion. Behind the weathered lines and broken capillaries on his face, I see a ghost of Haven-the same stubborn jaw, the same slightly upturned nose. But she must have her mother's eyes, because Bobby's are a muddy brown. "Fuck off!" he snaps, keeping his distance. "You sure?" I hit the unlock button, barely audible above the car's tires crunching over grit as I keep pace with Bobby in the Tesla. "It's a few miles to the bus stop. You'll be soaked through." ...you'll catch your death...

I shut out my mother's voice before it becomes a lecture. Bobby says nothing, trudging ahead through the drizzle like a soldier with orders. Even has the same thousand-yard stare. "Rain's only going to get worse." His eyes dart to the car, then to the gray sky, cheeks twitching as drizzle hits his face. The calculation is pathetically obvious as he weighs pride with practicality. It helps that I never laid a hand on him. That I was the one to give him the money that finally sent him on his way. That I never once cussed at him, or lost my cool. Doesn't mean I didn't want to.

I saw Haven's shame. Her panic. But what made my blood boil was the fear and loathing that flooded her pupils. Robert Lee isn't just guilty of neglect. Her hatred spoke to something more sinister. Something evil. On any given day, I'd be more than keen to peel back the delicious layers of her traumatic past, to dissect and examine the abuse she'd suffered...but the thought that such a wretch of a man had hurt my girl smothered my usual cool indifference with wrath of biblical proportions.

If I'd given in to the urge to lay my hands on Bobby, they'd have to use dental records to identify him at the morgue. I could claim self-defense, and I could manipulate Kai into vouching for me, but I'd rather not have to risk the inquiry into my background. Thankfully, watching Kai slam his fist into Robert's face gave me enough vicarious pleasure that I had a semi by the time I dragged the boy off him. But that satisfaction was short-lived. I'm already, as they say, desperate for another fix. As I'm about to lock the door and keep driving, Bobby stops walking.

Guess he's decided I'm the lesser of two evils. "Yeah, fuck, alright," he mutters, yanking open the door and dropping heavily into the passenger seat. Stale sweat, cigarettes, grimy clothes. Soon as the smell hits me, I'm glad I haven't gotten around to steam cleaning my car yet. Haven's neon body paint is still caked into the dark red leather. And before the end of this trip, Bobby's stench will be, too. I crank up the AC as I pull away from the curb. "You understand why we asked you to leave," I say, glancing at him.

"Campus security's a pain in the ass when they get involved." "Asked me to leave?" Bobby lets out a sardonic snort, staring out the window as he fingers his ribs where Kai kicked him. "That what you call letting that snot-nosed brat wail on me like that? I should press fucking charges." "You could, but I doubt it would be worth the effort." I navigate us through the winding roads leading away from campus. "I apologize on behalf of Mr. Jordan for the discomfort he caused." "Discomfort," Bobby mutters sourly.

"That boy better stay the hell away from me." "I sensed there was no love lost between you two. What was that you said to him back there? Something about making him eat dirt again?" "Punk showed up at the trailer one day, looking for a fight." He chuckles, his eyes lighting up with malicious glee. "Threw a punch, and I put him down. Hard. But the little shit kept getting up. Like he was asking for it. Beat seven shades of snot out of that boy 'fore he ran home to his mama." "Jesus. How old was he?" "Dunno. Twelve. Thirteen? It matter?" Yes, it fucking matters.

Going toe-to-toe with a man your own age is one thing. When Kai kicked him and Bobby started writhing and blubbering like a fucking soccer player, I knew he was a coward. But being this fucking smug about putting a tween on his ass? "Why'd he start a fight with you?" "Drugs, prob'ly." Bobby waves away the question. "Everyone was getting fried back then. Only God knows how Haven stayed clean." "Sounds like drugs, alright," I agree. There's more to this, but now that the bragging is done, Bobby is locking down again.

Finding out why Kai had a bone to pick with him is not on my list of priorities for this very uncomfortable, hopefully very short car ride. I could always ask Kai. I swear to God, I can taste Bobby's sweat. "And Haven? She try to stop you?" He's quiet for a moment, brow furrowed. "Nah, she was at school. Must've been." But he doesn't sound sure, which is on brand for a someone who was probably off his mind on meth or heroin at the time. "Little punk's been sniffing around Haven since she was a girl, you know. Filling her head with ideas.

So fucking happy when the Jordans fucked off out of that trailer park. Put Haven back in her place." That place, I presume, being under her father's boot heel as he ground the will to live out of her. He's shocked she didn't do drugs? I'm shocked she made it to puberty without killing herself. "I'd have done the same," I tell him. He glances at me, lifting a lip to reveal a most unfortunate set of rotting teeth. "The fuck you on about?" "I get it, Bobby." I lean in his direction, giving him a conspiratorial smile. "Dealing with these kids day in, day out, it's fucking exhausting.

Sometimes I just need to get out of my own head, you know?" Bobby says nothing, scratching the side of his neck. It has nothing to do with his grubby skin-that's withdrawal. From the looks of it, he can't fucking wait to take the money I gave him and score another fix. "I tell you," I say through a laugh, "this week's been one for the books." No need to mention last night's black out, or how my credit card balance is significantly higher this morning than it was yesterday. I've made several questionable purchases lately.

One of them was a redhead who unironically called herself 'Ginger Snap.' I tap my fingers against the steering wheel, light glancing off something embedded in my cuticle. Glitter. Red glitter. "Sometimes you just need to blow off some steam, right? Kids don't get it. I mean, Jesus, what the fuck do they have to stress about?" Bobby's eyes flick toward me, a flash of recognition there. One user sizing up another. "Fucking kids," he mutters, but cautiously. Testing. "Everyone's got their poison." He stiffens, mouth pursing. "I ain't using anymore, if that's what you're 'sinuating," he lies.

"Me neither," I lie just as easily. "Told myself this weekend was the last." I pick at the piece of glitter trapped in my cuticle. That reminds me, I need to launder my bedding. I flex my hand on the steering wheel, pushing the thoughts away. Focus on Bobby Lee. If anything can repair the damage between me and Haven, it's this festering sore of a human being oozing meth-tainted sweat onto my leather. But the fucker is turning out to be a hard nut to crack. I can thank his drug-induced paranoia for that. Me and paranoia go way back. Which is why I'm so familiar with its bedfellow, resentment.

"Couldn't have been easy raising Haven by yourself." Silence. "Especially when you had to move to Ashwood Crossing." His head whips toward me, eyes narrowing. "How the fuck you know about that?" "It's on Haven's college application," I say smoothly. "'Course it is." He laughs humorlessly. "That little runt sure got a pair of fucking balls on her, don't she?" "She did what she had to do, Bobby." His snort is as distasteful as the look he throws my way. "So did I. And what do I get? Ungrateful leech steals my fucking car and runs off to some swanky school." "Got to cut her some slack.

She didn't have a mother growing up." "'Course she'd put that in her application. Always looking for a fucking handout, that one." He lets out a rueful snort. "Bet she don't even remember Ginny." Bobby stares out the window, jaw working like he's chewing on something tough. "OD'd when Haven was still in diapers. I'll never forget the smell." He shakes his head, mouth twisting with disgust. "Ginny was always bad at changing her, but it'd been fucking hours." My knuckles whiten on the steering wheel, and for a dangerous moment I have to fight not to slam on the brakes.

"Haven was there when her mother OD'd?" My voice is hoarse all of a sudden, my mouth dry. "Told you, she don't remember shit about nothing." Why the fuck Bobby sounds so defensive when he claims he wasn't even there is suspicious as fuck. But I say nothing-because Jesus, what the fuck can I say?-and when Bobby carries on like we're discussing a fucking footfall match it all starts making sense. "Me and Lenny went out to score. Left Haven with Ginny like always. Weren't even gone all that long, just had a few beers on the way back.

But when we got there..." His voice trails off, and for a moment, I glimpse genuine pain beneath the ravaged exterior. "Ginny was cold and the girl was just sitting there in the corner in her dirty diapers." Christ. For the first time since I met Haven Lee, I feel a stab of something that might be genuine sympathy for her. I can't imagine what would be going through such a young child's mind during an incident like that. If they'd even comprehend the significance until years later. I was sixteen when the ambulance came to take Sybil's body away. She'd been cold, too.

That's how long she'd been in the bath, bleeding out. Get full chapters from FindN()vel.net Enough time for the water to run cold. Enough time for Billy to run cold. Sympathies aside, this changes nothing. If anything, it makes what's happening between me and Haven more...understandable. Haven was primed for corruption long before I came along. I'm probably not the first person who's taken advantage of the cracks her terrible childhood tore through her psyche. But I will be the last. Soon as I figure out how to repair the damage I caused on Tuesday.

Coked-up Bastian has a habit of fucking up, but I've learned how to not be so hard on myself. If I'd been in my right mind, I'd have realized Haven was far too lucid. Now she remembers everything, and I've got a big mess to clean up...and God knows where I'll find the motivation. Zero dopamine, incredibly low levels of serotonin, and a headache that no amount of Advil can tackle is turning an hour's indiscretion into massive regret. Even worse, I've started backsliding into old habits. Spiraling.

"Still, that's tough for a kid." I stop for a red light, watching Bobby from my peripheral vision as I try to wedge out the piece of glitter in my cuticle. It's a losing battle, though. There's even more under my fucking nail. "Tough on you." "Yeah, well." He scratches at his neck again, nails leaving angry red trails on his skin. "Life's tough." Rain drums on the roof of the car. I increase the wiper speed, settling into the rhythmic swoosh-swoosh as we drive. "Think she deserved it? Ginny?" "'Course not." Bobby's face crumples into a deep, angry frown.

He takes a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, hesitates, and starts toying with it in his lap. "It's okay if you think she did, even if you're glad she's gone. It's basic human psychology." I say with a chuckle. He throws me another disgusted sneer, but I can't fucking help myself. "The Germans have a word for it. Schadenfreude. Taking pleasure when bad things happen to someone else, especially if you think they deserve it." "Listen here, you puffed-up shitheel." Bobby shifts in his seat, the leather creaking beneath him as he turns to glare at me.

"Ginny didn't deserve to go like that." "Most people don't get what they deserve. Good or bad." I shrug, keeping the annoyance out of my tone. Bobby's eyes narrow slightly. "Yeah? That was this is about? You telling me Princess Shit of Turd Mountain deserves to dick around with those country club brats because her mama died and I couldn't afford to get her a goddamn pony?" I laugh, and fuck, how that makes his blood boil. I can see it in the way he grits the stubs of his decaying teeth, how the cigarette packet crumples in his grip.

"You certainly have a way with words, Bobby." I lift my hand, cutting off the angry sound he makes. "She's a smart girl with a bright future ahead of her. Just because she took your car, that doesn't mean she deserves⁠-" "Bitch has got you fooled! That innocent look of hers don't mean shit!" Spittle flies out of his lips, and thank God none of it touches me. "My Ginny had that look. Like butter wouldn't melt in her fucking mouth." His mouth twists into something that might be a smile on a less ravaged face. "Girl's got a mean streak. Gets that from her mother too." I raise an eyebrow.

"Haven doesn't strike me as mean-spirited." "No?" Bobby laughs, the sound like gravel in a blender. "Ask her 'bout Lenny, then." I search my memory for the name, but nothing comes up, which means she didn't mention him anywhere on her application or in her essay. He could have been anyone. Old boyfriend, classmate, family member. "Lenny?" "Georgia's brother." He lets out a wet laugh, his voice dropping an octave with sentimentality. "Ginny and Lenny. Jesus, those two. Got up to all kinds of shit together." He scratches at his neck again, harder this time.

"Always chasing the next high, 'til Ginny took the express train out." "And Lenny?" Bobby's expression darkens. "Disappeared." His bloodshot eyes fix on me, sharply focused with sudden paranoia. "Roundabout the same time Princess took off running with my car." "Yet you were sure she stole your car?" "Lenny never learned to drive. Always had me or Ginny cart him around." "You think they're connected," I say carefully. "Lenny disappearing. Haven leaving." He turns back to the window, watching raindrops race down the glass. "Never believed in coincidences.

That cunt knows exactly what happened to him," he says quietly. There's more to his croaking voice than simple suspicion about missing family. There's hatred there. Raw and festering. "You think she'd harm your brother-in-law?" I press, watching his face for the first sign I should back off. Bobby's expression hardens. "Didn't say she did something to him. Just said she knows what happened to 'im. Like, if he ran, she'd know where." "And where's that?" "Think I'd be in your fancy-ass car to catch a bus back to nowhere if I knew that?" "No, of course not.

So you contacted the police?" He gives me a sneering glance. "What for?" "To find Lenny?" He chuckles sourly. "You serious?" He huffs out a resigned breath. "She can have the fucking car. Ain't worth shit, anyhow. Just want to know if Lenny's okay. It's not like him, taking off like that. Even after Ginny died, he always stuck around." "I understand you're concerned, but I'm afraid I can't have you showing up at the college just to cuss her out again." "What choice did I have?" Bobby snaps, taking a cigarette out of the pack like he can't wait for us to get the bus stop so he can light it.

"I'll tell her to call you...once she's gotten a new phone, of course. She has your number, doesn't she?" He scoffs. "She won't." "I'll make sure she does." "She don't like it when you make her do things she doesn't wanna," he mutters. "But sure, go ahead." Bobby adds something under his breath that sounds like 'cocksucker', shaking his head as he stared through the windshield. When a street sign flashes past, he suddenly sits up a little straighter, frowning. "Where the fuck are you going?" he demands. "This ain't the way." "Just have make a quick stop, Mr.

Lee," I say, giving him a disarming smile as I flick on the indicator and turn into a side road. "Don't worry, I'll have you on your way in no time." I don't think my smile reaches my eyes. I don't think Bobby Lee notices. If he does, he doesn't care. I've given him money. Let him vent. I'm the closest thing he has to a friend, now that his BFF Lenny is apparently out of the picture. Unfortunately for Bobby, I don't need a friend. I needed intel on Haven, a way to make things right with her. And Bobby just handed me an arsenal. It'll take time, but I'm nothing if not patient.

I'll build her back up, piece by piece. Show her the respect she's never been given. Give her the attention she's always craved but never received. And in the meantime, I have Kai to keep me occupied. He's a useful distraction-all that pent-up rage and self-loathing wrapped in such a pretty, self-destructive package. He'll do nicely until Haven comes back to me. Because she will come back to me. They always do. But first things first. It looks like Daddy Lee's in desperate need of a fix. As am I.