28

I raise my hand and rap my knuckles against her door, the hollow thumps echoing like the pounding of my heart.

The emptiness is a cavernous void as my knocks go unanswered. Desperation claws my throat and I rap harder, as if sheer force of will can summon her presence. But the silence stretches on, deafening.

“Hey Professor, looking for Cathy...or Catherine, I guess?”

A wary brunette peers out a few doors down, clearly thrown by my pounding.

“Yeah, have you seen her? It’s important,” I grate out, my raspy voice unrecognizable to my own ears.

She frowns at my rumpled appearance. “Haven’t seen her in days. We assumed she went home for the weekend after...you know.” She trails off awkwardly.

After the internet exploded with those wedding photos, airing her private life for the world. Just picturing her suffering alone makes my chest constrict painfully.

Not just because of the photos. I added to her distress. I should have been on her side.

That’s when I see the envelopes shoved under her door, dated days ago.

“Hey, that’s private…” I snatch the envelopes despite the girl’s protest, but I silence her with a look before stalking off.

Cathy would have collected them if she’d come back here.

She’s not here.

She’s gone.

My breath catches hard in my lungs because I let this happen. I stood back and let her leave. After everything, she must truly believe herself to be unforgivably alone.

Fingers shaking, I dig out my cell and dial her number, praying she’ll answer this time. That she’ll let me fix this, but it goes straight to voicemail. I grip my cell hard and listen to her voice.

“Cathy...God, I’m so sorry,” I rasp out, voice cracking with unvarnished regret. “I was wrong, so catastrophically wrong about where my priorities should have been. With you. You’re...you’re everything. And I let you down in the worst way.”

I pause, chest heaving with the force of emotion threatening to choke me.

“Just...please, call me back. Give me a chance to make this right, to show you how fucking vital you are to me. I’m begging you, Cathy. Don’t shut me out, not yet.”

I hang up but I won’t leave it like this. I fucked up. I need to fix it.

If she’s not here, there’s only one other logical place she could be. Her home back in New York. I pivot sharply on my heel and break into a dead sprint in the direction I’ve just come, leather soles skidding and eating up the pavement.

Lungs straining the frigid air, I barrel toward the parking garage and my car. It’s deserted except for scattered vehicles, my footfalls echoing off concrete. I shove the key in, needing to start driving toward my girl.

“Going somewhere, Professor Black?”

I whip my head up to find Marty looming in the shadows outside my open door. Fucking hell, the absolute last thing I need to deal with right now. I don’t want to hear his bullshit.

“Not that it’s any of your concern,” I bite out tersely, angling my body to start the engine while pinning him with a look that clearly dismisses any further conversation. “But if you’ll excuse me—”

“I want my money, Black. And I want it tonight,” he says.

“That’s impossible. There’s a process—”

“That’s not my problem.” Marty cuts me off.

I strangle the wheel in a tight grip. “I’m not doing this any more for you, Marty. No more money. No more stealing. I’m done.”

Marty’s bark of laugher is the last thing I expect. “You’ll never be done.”

“What are you talking about?” I snap.

“You think the only thing I’d have over you is a piece of pussy that’s long gone. I didn’t get to where I am today by being stupid, Black. I see situations from all sides and if I were you, I’d be trying to build a case against me. And make it good enough to stick. It’s the only reason you haven’t cut and run by now.”

He’s known all along? My grip is hard enough to strangle the wheel. I stare at him, grinding molars.

A smarmy smile crosses his face. “That’s what I thought. Seems we’ve both played the same game, only I’m several steps ahead of you. I’m sure the authorities will be very interested in documents showing how you’re extorting the university. I have emails. Money transfers. Receipts. All under your log in credentials, of course.”

I should have anticipated he’d do something to protect himself. Should have known. Still I have to try. “Those documents are utter fabrications and you know it. They’ll never—”

“Hold up?” Marty cuts me off with a derisive snort. “Think about it, Black. Who do you think the authorities are going to believe, you or the revered dean of a university? It’s the same reason you’ve probably spent all this time getting evidence against me. But you know what they’ll see? They’ll see that you’re a Professor of Business Analytics. A man who knows how to funnel money and who has the means to access university funds thanks to your offer to help me manage college funds. Most people would think it’s too much temptation. And if all else fails, I’m sure someone, somewhere, will like the little extra sent their way, or even scholarships for their kids, should they decide to study at Midwestern University.”

I resist the urge to gag. He’s right. And I, more than most, know how persuasive Marty is. All he needs is a weak someone to manipulate. Someone desperate. Someone willing to overlook things that should not be overlooked.

“You repulsive sack of shit,” I bite out in a guttural rasp. The rage simmering through my veins is an all-consuming inferno and, in that moment, a caustic blaze of hatred and disgust razes through me for myself as much as for him. How many years have I let this parasite manipulate and blackmail me? All for the sake of getting more evidence against him when all he had to do it was concoct the same evidence against me.

I thought he was too stupid when all along he played me.

Only now. Now I have something more than myself to lose.

A sneer curls his thin lips. “Remember your place, Black. And on that little note, I’m sure you’re aware of the latest gossip around campus?”

White-hot rage surges up my throat with such force that I nearly choke on it. The thought of Marty using Cathy—my Cathy—as another twisted pawn in his game ignites an unstoppable fury and protective ferocity inside me. “What about it?”

“Have you forgotten my request, Professor? Imagine my surprise to find out our Cathy Evans is actually Catherine Fowler—and your dissertation student to boot. No doubt you’ve gotten to know each other quite well while working on that little project together.”

He knows. Sickness roils in the pit of my stomach, bitter and rancid. I clamp my lips together, forcing the words I want to say back down. Because as much as I want nothing more than to reach through this car window and rip that leer right off his revolting face, the instinct for self-preservation still wars inside me with the driving need to protect Cathy at all costs.

“That’s an easy in for you, Black. You’re already a step ahead. Are you getting my drift?” Marty says.

“Crystal,” I snap.

“Then we’re on the same wavelength when I tell you I want to see another juicy donation from Dominic Fowler very soon. Nice little chat we’ve had. Glad we could catch up. Enjoy your evening, Professor.”

I watch in seething silence as Marty strides back toward the parking garage’s main exit, the burn of his parting words ricocheting through my head long after he’s disappeared from sight. Anger washes over me in crashing waves but I reel it in slowly, taking solace from the main part of our conversation. Whether he knows it or not, we’re over. He thinks he has me over a barrel, but we’re more than finished.

Ironically, I should thank Marty for setting me free from the iron shackles of my own fear. I inhale a shuddering breath, then another, using each lungful of oxygen to infuse me with greater resolve, greater clarity about what needs to happen next. There’ll be time to unravel Marty—right now, there’s something far more vital I have to do.

Find Cathy and pour out every last unguarded truth I have left to give.

I truly have nothing to lose.

With a twist of my wrist, the engine roars to life. I’m done being a victim—that man dies tonight.

Cathy is my destiny.

No more lies, no more torment.

She’s my sole mission now, and nothing will stop me from taking what I want.

Nothing.

Tempting The Professor
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