Page 133 of Rear View
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Ryah
I shuffled my way across the U of E campus, the wind biting at my cheeks. Zoya walked beside me, her hair whipping wildly around. My feet scuffed the ground, legs heavy and body too tired to lift them.
“Do we need to put sugar in his father’s tank?” Zoya asked. “Slash his tires? Cut his brakes?” She punched the air for emphasis. “Whatever you need, Ry. I’m ready to go.”
The garbled, choking sound that escaped me was part sob, part laugh.
The footage of what’d happened was already everywhere. Peter’s previous convictions were displayed, and the media had run with Xavier’s story. “Fallen Hero?” they’d asked. “A quick rise and an even quicker fall?”
Please, God, he can’t lose everything.
He needed to tell the WRC what had really happened. The truth. They had to know who he was. Had to understand and see. My heart shattered for him, because I knew what that felt like, to have your world stripped from you. Have one moment define you. Define everything.
I’d barely been gone an hour, and I already missedhim so damn much, I could barely breathe. I wanted to be there, to kiss him, let him bury himself inside of me and tell him I loved him until I stripped that pain away.
“What’re we thinking?” Zoya asked.
“I just wanna get whatever the hell this meeting is over with so I get back to Xavier.”
She squeezed my wrist and nodded.
We closed in on the psych building, and I took a steadying breath. Pulling the entrance wide, I stepped inside, Zoya tight behind me. The halls were empty, the sound of our footsteps echoing loudly off the open space. A chill chased down my spine.
“Miss Nolan!” someone called.
Head snapping to the right, I found Stan, keys at his hip clanking as he strode quickly toward Zoya and me.
His expression was even. “Thank you both for coming.”
My eyes narrowed as I glanced around on high alert. “Where’s the dean?”
“She’s on her way. Please.” He pivoted away. “Follow me.”
“Where are we going?” Zoya demanded.
“Not far.”
My spine stiffened. We didn’t move.
Peering over his shoulder, he eyed us. “This is important, Miss Nolan.”
An empty feeling grew in the pit of my stomach, sinking further and further and further.
His stare flicked around. “I need you to come with me,now,” he said, dropping his voice low.
My head drew back, because the insistence in his voice… “Why?”
“Please,” Stan said, then pointed to a familiar office down the hall. “It’ll be easier if I just show you.”
When I turned to Z, she raised her hands, palms forward in a “this is your call” gesture.
I didn’t want to talk to him, but the man was relentless. My gut told me he wouldn’t stop until I did. Besides, safety in numbers, because Zoya was with me.
Swallowing hard, I took the unsteady steps toward the room. Unclipping that unnecessarily large ring of keys, he unlocked Professor Barlowe’s office, then held the door for us as we crossed over. Closing us in, he aimed for the desk and propped his hip on the corner.
My gaze darted toward that exit. “What’s going on?”
