Ethan let out a short, dismissive laugh. The sound hung in the air, a simple message of his skepticism. Dr. Hennigan waited for Ethan, playing another one of their staring contests. She wouldn’t blink. Ethan clearly wanted to act all strong and tough. Dr. Hennigan had stared down men much more intimidating and dangerous than this boy could ever hope to be. He averted his eyes.
“Whoareyou people?”
“Well, that’s something I cannot delve into. But, suffice it to say, we’re the good…ish guys. We do things the federal government can’t or won’t do.”
“So, you’re like the CIA or something?”
“Oh, the CIA wishes they had our resources and moral flexibility. No, we don’t have those kinds of constraints. We operate…independently.”
“And who died and made you judge and jury?”
“Lots of people. Some you’ve heard of. Others went to their graves unknown by society. If we do our jobs right, no one knows we lurk in the shadows.”
Dr. Hennigan stared at Ethan, her gaze soft and laced with gentle condescension. Her smile was warm but pitying. Although outwardly attempting to be kind, she put on an expression that communicated her belief that Ethan was naïve about how things worked in the world.
“Now what?” Ethan asked.
“Well, before I finish telling you everything I promised to tell you, we should wait for Blayne to get home. Unfortunately, the information I promised you two last night involves him.”
“What?” Ethan gasped. “Is he in danger?”
“Calm down, Ethan.” She clicked her manicured nails on the table. “He’s in no immediate danger. But people he cares about could be vulnerable if the Constitutional Liberation Army isn’t stopped.”
* * * *
Blayne
Blayne tried to get the class back on track, but his students peppered him with questions about the concert. They didn’t seem to know he was dating Ethan, but his students were bright enough to realize he was at least friends with Ethan after he had been shot.
“Mr. Dickenson, come on. Tell us what happened?” Emma Davis asked. “My followers want the inside scoop.”
Emma’s social media profile had shot up after she’d uploaded photos of Blayne the previous month. He’d concocted a plan with Ethan to dress like him to confuse the paparazzi. Thankfully, the scheme worked…a little too well, since it led to him getting shot. His students didn’t know the entire story. They didn’t know even a tiny portion of what had happened, and Blayne intended to keep it that way.
“There’s not much to tell. You’ve seen the news.”
“Yes, but your boy…Ethan Bond,” Emma corrected herself. Blayne had known Emma was smarter than she let on. She portrayed herself as a bit of an airhead as an influencer, but Blayne knew it was an act.
“Ms. Davis, this isn’t the time or the place to discuss this, anyway. We have compositions to evaluate. So, find your peer-editing team and trade papers. If you forgot to bring a hard copy of the paper, there’s the door. Go print it now.” Two students got up and left.
Blayne tried not to let his frustration show, so he plastered on a smile. He spent the next hour walking around the room, working with each group. Some groups were clearly stronger than others. He caught several mistakes as he looked over students’ shoulders. By the time class was over, he was looking forward to going home. Then he remembered what was waiting for him there and groaned inwardly. In the normalcy of teaching, he’d forgotten what awaited in his apartment. His classroom had always been a safe place to escape, where he could leave his troubles at the door.
He was packing up his materials on the front table when Emma approached. He glanced up and did his best not to frown.
“Yes, Ms. Davis?”
“I will not ask you about last night. I promise.”
“Great. How can I help you, then?”
“Are you okay?” she asked, a genuine look of concern washing over her face. “After last month and last night, I don’t see how you’re not curled up in a little ball somewhere. I know I’d be.”
“I’m fine,” he said, drawing a tight smile. “Thank you for asking.”
“How’s Ethan handling it?”
“He’s fine, too,” Blayne said, with a bit more trepidation.
“I promise, this is totally off the record.”
