It's Only Fair
I freeze.
Mr. Adams leans against the bar, a drink in his hand, a smug, knowing smile curling on his lips. My stomach twists.
His eyes take me in from my head to my toes, and I blink to clear my head. I feel like this isn’t real, just a dream of some sort.
Because, what the hell is a high school teacher doing at a college club?
It’s creepy at best, predatory at worst.
The bass of the music thrums through my chest, but suddenly, the warmth of the alcohol is gone, replaced by something cold. I shiver, offering a small smile.
I scan the crowd, looking for Nikki, for her friends, but the bodies blur together, twisting and pulsing with the music, faceless in the flashing neon lights. I can’t see a damn thing and now panic is surging through me.
He steps closer to me as he takes a drink from his cup. I take a step back, planning on taking another to walk away. Mr. Admas had other ideas. He grabs my wrist, keeping me in place.
“Oh, come on, tell me how you’ve been.”
I shake my head, pulling my arm. But his hold is so tight that I fear what one wrong movement will cause in his reaction.
“I-I’ve been fine. I’m here with Nikki and some friends. They’re probably looking for me.” I force a tight smile, taking another step back.
He just follows me, keeping his hand on my wrist. “They can come find you when they want you.”
My heart starts hammering in my chest, and I look at the bartender for help. She’s so busy, getting crowded by a group of men.
“Alina,” his voice cuts through the noise as if we’re just running into each other at the side of the street.
My lips tremble, and I look at the ground. “Mr. Adams, please.”
He steps in closer, and the heat coming off of his body has me gagging. “Call me Eric. I’m not your teacher anymore.”
Everything inside me screams to run away. I move, but he pushes off the bar completely, stepping closer. Too close.
“I was just asking how you were doing,” he says, tilting his head as if he actually cares.
Something sharp curls in my stomach, my body going rigid. I shake my head. “I should, um, I should go find my friends. It was nice seeing you, Mr. Adams.”
I turn to leave, but before I can take another step, he moves, crowding me.
My back hits the wall.
Panic seizes my lungs.
His hand slams against the wall beside my head, caging me in. His other hand still holds his drink, ice clinking against the glass. He leans in, his breath warm with liquor, his legs keeping me in.
“Call me Eric, Alina,” he says again, softer this time.
I swallow hard, trying to push him away, but he doesn’t budge. The alcohol burns through my veins, making my limbs too slow, my thoughts too sluggish. He never showed any interest in me when I was his student.
This is totally out of the blue.
Confusing.
His lips curl. “I heard a little rumor about you.”
My stomach drops.
“I hear the Matthews boys have been keeping you very close.”
The world tilts, my vision tunneling. What is he getting at?
I shake my head, my voice barely above a whisper. “Please let me go.”
But he just smiles, cruel and satisfied.
“You know, Zaid took something from me.” His fingers tighten around his glass.
I push through my memories, remembering that first day I met Zaid. That arrogant, pig-headed boy that bragged about fucking his teacher’s wife.
My blood runs cold.
“That little fucker cost me my wife.”
My breath shudders out.
“And I think it’s only fair that I take something from him.”
White, hot panic rushes through me. I knee him between the legs, shoving his arm away. He grunts, falling over, and his glass falls to the ground with a smash.
Relief floods through me as I take a step away from him, but then his arm is around my elbow and he pulls me into a dark hallway.
I pull on his hold, screaming, but no one hears me over the loud music thumping in the back. I keep screaming, shoving my elbow back hard enough that I feel the crunch of his cheek beneath my bone.
It hurts like a bitch, but I ignore the pain and ignore the tears that trail down my cheeks. My heart slams against my ribs, my breaths short and sharp as I fight to get away, and I run right into a hard chest.
“Fuck, Alina?”
The familiar voice has me crying harder, Zaid’s arms around my shoulders. The moment my eyes land on Zaid’s dark eyes, relief crashes over me so intensely that my entire body reacts.
I nearly collapse, my breath coming out in a ragged exhale, my limbs suddenly weak. It’s like breaking through the surface after drowning, like the first gasp of air after being suffocated.
The panic gripping my chest loosens just enough for me to move.
He’s here. I’m safe. The terror still clings to me, but Zaid is solid, real.
“You’re here, you’re here,” I cry, leaning into his chest. I can still feel Mr. Admas’ breath on my skin, his hand on my arm, his words curling around my mind like poison.
“What the fuck happened?” His voice is like an anchor in the storm, grounding me.
The music sounds even louder now, and when I look over Zaid’s shoulder, I see Aiden and Parker. Parker is holding up Nikki, who is probably a bit too drunk.
I feel the exact moment that Zaid sees Mr. Admas. His entire body stiffens, his hold on me tightening. He cusses under his breath and he quickly walks me to Aiden.
My fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, holding on like he’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart. “Zaid, please. Don’t.”
Aiden’s smile completely disappears the moment he sees us walking toward him. Zaid transfers me into Aiden’s arms, his hand coming up to cup my face for a brief moment, his thumb brushing against my cheek.
“Take her home,” he says, his voice angry.
“No, Zaid—”
But he’s already turning away.
Aiden frowns, looking down at me with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”
I can only shake my head and turn to watch in horror as Zaid stalks toward Mr. Admas, his movements precise. Before Mr. Admas can react, Zaid grabs him by the collar of his shirt and slams him against the wall.
My breath stutters. I shake my head. “You need to stop him before he hurts him.”
The words come out of me broken, from a breath trying to not sound like a cry.
Aiden’s already moving. He curses under his breath, pushing through the crowd as security starts to notice the commotion.
Parker and Nikki are suddenly beside me, and Aiden glances at them.
“Take her home,” he orders, his expression tight.
I can’t hear what Zaid is saying, but I can see the rage in his face, the barely restrained violence in the way his knuckles whiten around Mr. Admas’ shirt.
Aiden reaches them just as security does, yanking Zaid back before he can do any real damage.
Parker guides me toward the exit, but I can’t take my eyes off Zaid.
The last thing I see before the club doors close behind us is Aiden pulling him away, his grip firm, his voice low, while Mr. Adams straightens his shirt, looking far too panicked.
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