Page 57 of Burned By Sin
“Unfortunately, we haven’t managed any answers to any of those questions. It was only by the fingerprints we managed to salvage on the bathroom door handle that we were able to get a match. The why is unknown so far, as he only wants to talk to you.” My pulse kicks up a beat and I swallow hard.
“So you need me to get a confession,” I conclude. The boys on either side of me tense while the officers share a hopeful look. Standing, PC Haynes gestures for me to follow him.
“I can go in for you,” Clay quickly offers, but I shake my head. Rhys also starts to argue, his voice a low growl. I shut him down with a look too. I decided on the way over that nothing will keep me from that room, from hearing whathehas to say. Feeling Rhys and Clay breathing down my neck, I leave them and their reservations with Steiner in the cubicle as Haynes leads the way.
Stepping into a darkened room, the young officer keeps my attention on him.
“I’ll be right here behind this one-way mirror. Anything you can get out of him, we’d be grateful for. Don’t go beyond your comfort zone. We can charge him based on the evidence we’ve already got, but a full confession is the easiest way to prosecute.”
As Haynes steps aside, my eyes land on the view beyond the mirror. The breath evaporates from my lungs, a burn filling my chest as it’s unable to rise and fall. I imagined almost this exact image, but the figure slumped across a metal table still surprises me. I take a step back, bumping into Clay’s hard chest for his arms to circle me.
Haynes has his hand on the handle, a reassuring smile on his face.
“Remain by the door and knock when you’re done. I’ll get you straight out of there.” I take a steadying breath, nodding slowly. The door is pulled open and I step inside.
“Professor Peterson?” My whisper cracks. His head jerks up, the chains around his wrists rattling as he tries to get to his feet. I flinch at theclattering sound, briefly disorientated and Haynes shouts through a hidden speaker.
“Remain in your seat,” he barks. Peterson complies, lowering back down. He looks wrecked. His glasses are missing, his eyes wild as they search my face for I don’t know what. Dark circles are embedded below, his frown lines more visible. In summary, he looks almost haunted, but also slightly relieved.
“I’m so glad you came. Thank you,” the professor dips his head. I frown, remaining rooted to the spot, all my questions dying at the sight of him. I’d figured he would be transformed into a monster, spittle flying from his mouth as he shouted curses at me, finally revealing his true hatred. Instead, the desperation in his eyes jars me.
“Wh-why did you ask for me?”
“To explain. Please let me explain, I’ll tell you everything.” Peterson begins to sob. Actually sob, tears streaming from his eyes. The man before me is broken, hanging his head low. Slowly, I edge around the room and pull the metal seat opposite him all the way back to beneath the mirror before sitting on it. I can hear Rhys’ voice in my head, telling me to get back by the fucking door.
“Okay. Explain it to me.” Peterson goes quiet other than his occasional sobs. I don’t want to pity him, nor do I want to notice the soreness circling his wrists. As the lack of response continues, I decide to settle for an easier question. “Did you start the fire?”
“Yes,” he finally lifts his head to address me. His red eyes beg for a forgiveness I’m unable to give.
“Do you…want to kill me?” I raise a brow, hiding my trepidation behind sass. That’s how I usually get by in life, and in here it’s no different. Peterson’s head shakes frantically, his hands shifting into a prayer.
“No, no! I never wanted to hurt you.” At my confused look, Peterson shuffles the chair closer to sit upright and takes a long breath. “I’m being blackmailed. It’s been going on for months. Someone hacked into my computer and….caught me with Melinda.” I remain silent, my face conveying I don’t know who that is.
“Melinda Hargreaves, the physiology teacher,” he supplies. “We’ve been having an affair, and a recording was somehow made. At first, it started small with asking for money. But after a while, the real demands began. I was ordered to hand over one of your microphone clips and then the talent show…I’m so, so sorry. There were threats to show the recording to my wife. I have two daughters. I’ve been so worried about going home. I’ve been sleeping in my car.”
I hold a hand up to stop his rambling. I’ve heard enough. A coldness churns in my stomach, but it’s no longer from nerves. Peterson descends into full-on crying once again as I make my way toward the door.
“No, wait. Please don’t go!” he begs. I stop and turn back to eye the pitiful sight before me. His nose is running and he desperately tries to wipe it on his shoulder. I’d been so worried about stepping into this room, but now all I feel is disgust. He’s a coward who was cheating on his wife, and instead of admitting it, he attacked me. One of his students.
“Do you know who’s been blackmailing you?” I ask. Peterson hangs his head with a shake, unable to speak or look me in the eye. “Then there’s nothing else you have to say that I want to hear. You were so consumed by the fear of losing your wife, you put my life in danger. I could havedied. Now, your wife will learn the truth and you’ll be stuck in a cell. Great job Professor, I’ll give your fuck-up an A+.”
Rasping on the door, I ball my hands into fists until Haynes appears on the other side.
“I hope you got what you needed,” I mutter and take off down the hall without waiting for a response. As the elevator pings open, Rhys and Clay step in by my side as I knew they would. My silent sentinels follow me inside and wait for the doors to slide closed before their arms latch around me. I gasp, shocked by my own reaction as the adrenaline fades and the tremors begin. Rhys buries his face into my neck, Clay rests his cheek onmy head. Safe in their embrace, I let a single tear roll down my face.
The floor numbers tick down slowly, the hum of the machinery filling the space that’s closing in around us. Three bodies, one bitter realization. We thought we’d caught him. We thought the nightmare was over, but Peterson’s confession only confirms what I’d already begun to fear. He’s not the one pulling the strings. He’s just another pawn on the board. Whoever’s behind this, whoever’s watching us, they’re still out there.
And the next move is ours.
Chapter Thirty Four
The Harper that entered the police station is not the one who stepped out. Whatever she saw and heard back there has reinstated her to her full glory. A glint of vengeance sparkles in her green eyes, the determination in her posture causing me to rearrange the position of my semi-hard dick more than once.
Said-semi is now pushed against the curve of her ass as she sits in my lap. I need a release, hard and fast and right damnnow. The problem is I have not one, but two, cockblocks staring at me like I’ve pissed in their coffee. Addy and Clayton seem very friendly with each other as they watch me from across the kitchen, muttering over the rims of their cups.
Neither Harper nor I can hear them from the sofa, but I have no doubt they’re conspiring against me. The entire car ride back, Harper was adamant Addy couldn’t have played any part in the blackmail. That the dancer doesn’t even know science professors or have the time to hound and harass them. I’m not ruling her out, especially not now Addy seems to have Clayton on her side. Easily influenced fool. But he’s smart, I’ll give him that. If Clayton has the backing of Harper’s best friend, the one I’ve openly hated and suspected, then Harper will surely choose him in the end. I’m furious I didn’t think of it first.
Instead, I do what little I can and bury my face in her neck, holding her waist tighter like that alone might stop me from losing her. My father’s ultimatum, insisting that Harper makes a choice on my birthday, has ramped up the stakes and added to the strain of trying to show Harper what I can be, who I can be for her.
