I slam him into the wall. "Yes, you do. If you didn't want to get caught, you shouldn't use shit like Instagram and Snapchat for your fucking booty calls,Professor. You have to be the stupidest son of a bitch I've ever laid eyes on."
"W-who are you?"
Now I smile. "Who? Me? I'm the guy who's going to make your entire life implode."
"No, please, I?—"
"Shutup."
His throat bobs.
"Aurora Bellerose," I say. "She's a student of yours."
"I didn't touch her!"
"No shit. If you did, you'd be dead right now."
He goes still, seeing the truth of the threat in my eyes.
And I let him go, not because I want to, but because I'm worried I might make good on that threat if I don't.
"I'm going to talk and you're going to listen," I tell him in an even tone. "You're going to stop fucking your students, and you're going to fix the grade on Miss Bellerose's paper."
"This is aboutgrades?"
His head snaps to the side when my fist lands against his jaw. He sags against the wall, and I think I've hit the bastard too hard, but he recovers enough to stand on his feet, leaning into the brick for support.
"I wasn't finished."
He spits blood onto the ground.
"You will stop fucking your students and will grade them fairly."
"I'll give her whatever fucking grade you want."
I resist the urge to hit him again, if only because I know even a gentle tap would bowl him the fucker over, and I need him lucid for this.
"No. You'll give her the grades she deserves, and you will stop attacking her in class. You'll treat her with respect, or I will send your wife copies of every dirty conversation you've had with at least one student from each of your class since the moment you started at ASU. And when I'm done with that, I'll forward the same files to the university board and local law enforcement."
I stalk closer, and he recoils into the wall. "And then when you think your life can't get any shittier, you'll havemeto look forward to."
He chokes out another clotted chunk of blood and snot, panting as the side of his jaw and the skin around his eyes begin to swell and turn purple.
"Who are you?" he asks.
"I'm the guy you don't cross, Paul. Now listen real close."
He squeezes his eyes shut as I lean in to whisper, "I was never here. You never saw me. And you will speak of this to no one…or Iwillhave to kill you. Do you understand?"
"I—I understand."
I clap him on the shoulder, giving it a hard enough squeeze that he flinches.
"That's good, Paul." I shove him toward home. "Run home to Candice and Kyle. They should be home from basketball practice by now."
He slips on a puddle in the pockmarked pavement and almost falls in his haste to get away, craning his neck back to make sure I'm not following him.
I give him a little wave, and he finds his footing, sprinting as far away from me as he can get.
