His Mark by B.L. Brooks
Nina
School’s a drag.
My body’s impatient and moody as the day’s been slugging on. I’m eager to get back to Vance. I want to get back to that feeling I have when he’s around. The feeling of having someone there to talk to.
I’m practically done with the day thank goodness. Once I drag myself through some more boring details about graduation, I should be good to go.
“So, this is it,” Mr. Frost says to me as the rest of the students file out of the classroom, already hyped over the rally going on that I’d rather not attend.
Mr. Frost tends to stop me often on my way out, keeping me back to talk when it’s never over anything important.
I remember before gramps passed away, he had met the man a time or two and always said he felt something was off about him. It’s probably due to the fact he’s always holding me back to talk about irrelevant things. I still remember the one time I refused to stay behind as I had to rush to make visiting hours at the hospital.
I ended up spending the next week in detention for reasons I can only say were imagined.
“Yes, sir. This is it, I’m all done. Now it’s time to look for a job.” I keep my books clutched in front of me as his eyes run over my body in a way that’s rather repulsive.
I could gag.
“A job? Nina, you should be going to college. We talked about this. You can apply for loans anytime now. You know I’m more than willing to help,” Mr. Frost says, suggesting an offer I refuse to even consider.
There’s no way I’m stooping low enough to share an apartment with the man, which is what he suggested at one point in time. I’m sure he just thinks he’d be helping me out, so I kinda feel guilty having these thoughts when he’s probably just trying to be a good person here, but still…something about his offer doesn’t sit well with me.
“Thank you, but I’m doing just fine. I’m not even sure I want to go to college.”
I probably should want to go, but I don’t see it happening with where I’m at in life. All I should keep focused on is getting a job and getting through the next few months until I can somehow get over this grief.
“That can’t be right. A pretty little thing like you with all those smarts?” He takes a step closer, raising a hand and trailing it slowly down my arm.
His hand touching my skin makes me think only of Vance and the way it felt when he was so close. That memory didn’t feel like this at all, and I can honestly say last night was the first time in a long time I felt…safe.
“Er, thanks. But I really need to go.” I take a step back, trying to escape though finding myself trapped between a desk and my creepy teacher. He takes a step closer, pressing into me with a smile on his face, giving off a look that’s bringing on a surge of fear.
I bring my hands up to push him away but he takes it as the time to lower his palms down to my waist, sliding to my cheeks and gripping on tightly.
“Nina, come on. I want you to come and live with me. It’s time we explore this connection,” he says in the same voice he gives his lectures in, and all I want to do is cringe.
“What connection?” I shove his chest, though gasping as he tightens his arms around my back and holds me still. What’s touching the front of me is making me feel sick to my stomach.
I need to get out of here.
“You know what I’m talking about, baby. Don’t play hard to get with me,” he grumbles with a smile, making me feel nauseous at this point.
“No! Let me go!” I yell, the words cutting off as he kisses me, trying to shove his tongue through my lips.
I’m panicking, shoving and screaming as my lips stay clamped shut to stop this. I have the fleeting thought I’m in trouble here…there’s no one around, and everyone’s probably too busy at the rally in the gym. I can hear the sound of music playing from far off and—
I stumble, nearly falling over the desk as Mr. Frost is suddenly ripped away, followed by two large hands pulling me back. I look up into a familiar face—one of Vance’s men. I saw him at the shop yesterday. Arlo, I think?
He doesn’t look happy as he sets me up right, then turns to Mr. Frost with his left cheek ticking.
Oh, hell.
“This fuck bothering you, Nina?” he asks in his gruff voice, making me almost feel bad for when he doesn’t wait for an answer and kicks my teacher, landing a hard blow to his ribs.
“Hh-he kissed me,” I tremble out, scrubbing a hand over my lips as tremors pulse through.
“That so? Well, that’s a fucking problem given this isn’t your fucking girl,” the man growls to Mr. Frost, then looks back to the doorway. “Johnny!”
Another man comes walking into the classroom, the figure just as big as Vance but the man wears a tribal tattoo on his neck, looking meaner than a junk yard dog. “Sir,” he answers lowly.
“Take Miss Nina out to the car, would ya? It seems Mr. Frost here likes forcing his way onto little girls.” His tone gives me the chills.
Johnny whistles, an ugly grin curving his lips. Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, he’s beside me, gently taking my books and placing a hand on the dip of my back.
“We should give Arlo a few minutes to teach him some manners. Come on, Miss Nina. Vance had us pick you up lunch. You hungry?”
“N-not really,” I admit. “But I’m ready to leave.”
He nods, then leads us out as I give one final look behind, finding a sight I’ll never forget as Arlo has Mr. Frost down on the floor by his collar with a gun to the back of his head. Arlo has a deadly look in his eyes that even I don’t ever want to see again.
“You said V-Vance?” I’m still not understanding any of this but grateful as ever to the point of feeling faint.
Johnny nods. “Yes, mam. He sent us to keep an eye on you today while you were in school. Lucky, if you ask me.”
We reach the car and I slide in, accepting a bottle of water with shaking hands as I try to calm down. I can barely hear a word as I’m stuck on the fact of Vance getting his men to watch over me.
Who is this guy?
And do I care about the answer—I’m still trying to figure that out. But something warm fills inside when I think of Vance and getting back to him. I don’t feel so alone around him and for the first time in weeks, I find myself looking forward to the night.
