Page 215 of Toxic Temptation
“They said things first. Mean things. Then they shoved me in and held the door closed.”
“What kind of things?”
His voice drops to a whisper. “About my dead dad.”
Rage erupts behind my ribs, hot and violent. I want to find those little bastards and make them understand exactly what they’ve done and what the consequences will be. I want to call Kovan and let him handle this his way.
Instead of any of that, though, I kiss the top of Luka’s head. “Wait for me by the water fountain, okay? I need to talk to your principal.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Just have a conversation.” I keep my smile gentle even though my blood is boiling. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”
“Then we can go home?”
“Better than that. Science museum and ice cream in the park.”
His whole face lights up. “Really?”
“Really really.” I put my hand over my heart. “Go on. I’ll be right there.”
He grabs his backpack and hurries away, glancing over his shoulder like he’s expecting his tormentors to appear.
The moment he’s out of sight, I storm into the principal’s office.
Dean Kenneth Thomas is on the phone, eyebrows lifting in annoyance when he sees me. He holds up one finger to signal for me to wait.
I lean across his massive desk and smashEndon his call.
His jaw drops. “Excuse me, Ms. Fairfax, but that was?—”
“It’sDr.Fairfax,” I correct, my voice cold enough to freeze hell. “I’m here about Luka Krayev. The child who was trapped in a fucking locker while you people lost track of him. Remember?”
Thomas stands, smoothing his tie. “I spoke with the boy. He’s fine. It was just some roughhousing—boys will be boys, you understand.”
“Is that your professional opinion, Dean Thomas?”
“Children can be rough sometimes. I’ll speak to all the boys involved, make sure they understand?—”
“No. A lecture isn’t going to cut it. I want real consequences. Those children are bullies, and bullies need to learn that actions have repercussions.”
His face flushes red. “Dr. Fairfax, I hardly think?—”
“I think you’re afraid to punish the real perpetrators because their parents write big donation checks.” I step closer and jab a finger at him. “But here’s what you need to understand: All those wealthy parents combined couldn’t protect you from the kind of hell I’m prepared to unleash if this situation isn’t handled properly.”
He clears his throat. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
“One month suspension for every child involved. Community service on school grounds after hours. Written apologies to Luka from each of them. And if I hear about one more incident—even so much as a nasty sideways look in his direction—I’ll make sure this school’s reputation becomes my personal project.”
“Anything else?”
“I’ll let you know if I think of something fitting.” I head for the door, then turn back. “Making fun of a child’s dead father isn’t ‘boys being boys,’ Dean Thomas. It’s abject cruelty. And if you can’t see the difference, maybe you shouldn’t be running a school.”
I slam the door hard enough to rattle the windows.
And then walk straight into a wall of muscle.
“Kovan!”
