Our professor glances down at the screen, his expression losing the smolder and becoming stony.
He rejects the call without answering.
Kai’s fingers have stilled inside me, though he hasn’t removed them. As soon as Bastian puts his phone down, he pumps his fingers in and out of me again.
“Still close, baby?” Kai murmurs, leaning over to me and kissing my ear.
“Yeah,” I moan softly.
As I turn so that he can kiss my mouth, a shadow falls over our table.
“Well, isn’t this cozy? Hope I’m not interrupting.”
My blood turns to ice.
Deputy Thatcher stands at the edge of our booth, thumbs hooked in his belt, a smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s in full uniform—badge gleaming, hat on, the bulge of that insidious black notebook in his shirt pocket.
Kai’s fingers yank out of me so fast I barely clamp down on my gasp in time. My underwear slides back into place, cold and damp. I squirm in my seat before I can force myself to sit still, drawing a flicker of Thatcher’s eyes.
“Deputy,” Bastian says smoothly, as if he wasn’t just watching my boyfriend finger me under the table. “What brings you to campus?”
“Just wanted to chat with Miss Lee for a moment, if that’s alright.” Thatcher’s gaze sweeps over the three of us, lingering a beat too long on me. More precisely—on my flushed cheeks. “Mind if we step outside?”
Yes. Yes, I mind very much because I’m pretty fucking sure there’s a wet spot on the back of my skirt.
“It’s freezing out there,” I hear myself say as I wave to the space beside Bastian. “Why don’t you join us?”
What am I doing?What am I doing?
But the thought of Thatcher pulling me aside is so much worse than whatever he might say in front of Kai and Bastian.
I’ve got no secrets from them anymore.
Thatcher slides into the booth next to Bastian, who shifts to make room with blatant distaste.
“Much obliged,” Thatcher says to Bastian, then turns to me with what looks like genuine sadness on his face. “It’s about your father, Miss Lee.”
His words knock the air out of my lungs. I’m dimly aware that Kai’s gripping my thigh, but other than that, my body has gone numb.
There’s been precious little time to think about my excuse of a father, or his unexpected—though not unlikely—overdose.
“First off, please accept my condolences. What with Kai’s arrest, it completely slipped my mind to mention something when you came through for your interview.”
My interrogation, he means. But I’m too nervous to be snarky right now. Not with the way Thatcher’s scrutinizing me like he’s trying to read my mind.
“Th-that’s okay,” I mumble, lacing my fingers on the table in front of me.
Thatcher shifts, pulling his lips into a wan smile as he glances first at Kai, then Bastian, like he’s hoping they also won’t think he’s a dick.
None of us are buying his act, though. Bastian is watching him with a perfectly neutral expression, and Kai’s scowling at him like he’s hoping Thatcher’s boy-next-door haircut will catch on fire.
“The coroner’s report came back. Official cause of death was an overdose. No evidence of foul play.” Thatcher’s voice is gentle, sympathetic. It makes my skin crawl. “I know it’s not easy to hear, but at least there’s some closure.”
Closure? Bobby and his scumbag brother-in-law, Lenny, will haunt me forever.
“I appreciate you letting me know,” I say carefully.
“Of course.” He pauses, his eyes still on me. “If you have any questions about the process, or if there’s anything you need help with regarding the estate…”
