Vaughn didn’t get a chance to finish. Darnell reached out and grabbed Delaney by the throat, surprising all of them. Delaney’s eyelids peeled back, and Vaughn clawed at his partner’s arm.
“You trying to steal this from me too, you fucking worm? Like you tried to steal my job?”
“Darnell!” Vaughn shouted. He tried to pull his partner’s hand off, to no avail. “Darnell!”
The man bared his teeth.
“Little fucking—”
Vaughn used his free hand to rabbit punch Darnell in the armpit. Not hard, but with enough force to make Darnell grunt and curl his body protectively on that side. He finally let go and Delaney coughed as he massaged his throat. Vaughn immediately got between them.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Vaughn snarled.
The anger leaked from Darnell’s face.
“Back up,” Vaughn ordered.
When Darnell continued to just stand there, Vaughn gave him a little push. His partner took two steps back.
“Don’t you move.”
Vaughn whipped around. Delaney had recovered and looked more shocked than injured.
“You good?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Bring him in. Print him and throw him in a room. Don’t talk to him. And don’t say a word to Darnell. Got it?”
Delaney nodded, and Vaughn held the stare for a moment longer. Then he rapped two knuckles against the window, startling the man in the backseat.
“You,” he hissed. “Wake the fuck up.”?
?Chapter 42
Any notion Ivymight have had of her colleagues and the studentsnotseeing the TikTok of the Bae-sian Prof were dashed the moment she parked outside Fine Hall. Three separate groups of people—one of which she recognized as faculty—started shooting glances her way and chatting amongst themselves.
High school shit. Whispering into their hands.
Ivy refused to let this get her down. She felt oddly refreshed. If anything, the terrifying events of the night prior should have only added to her anxiety. Maybe it was the two beers that she’d had with Vaughn that had calmed her. Maybe she was just getting used to being around death.
Can it happen that quickly? Can one become jaded to murder after witnessing just two crime scenes?
A ridiculous thought, but regardless, she’d slept well.
She’d also predicted that something like this might happen—the gossip about the TikTok video—so Ivy had decided to arrive just before class started to avoid any awkward encounters.
Tristan was holding the door open for her.
“Got the phones today?” she said.
Tristan raised a bag.
“Yep.”
“Good.”
Ivy entered the class. Saw the students’ smirks. Ignored them. She didn’t notice Zeke—his usual seat was empty—and this lifted her mood even more.
