Her Teacher's Temptation (12 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Annoyingly
similar features and a scowling face wasn't what I was expecting when I exited
the school grounds. "What are you doing here?"

My father
showed no sign that he'd even heard me speak. "I want you to tell me
everything you know about this bastard that's hurt your mother." Clenched
fists and a curled lip made my dad's anger less than subtle and I resisted the
urge to back away from him. This was another kind of anger altogether from what
I’d seen at the restaurant and it didn’t look pretty.

"How did
you find out about that?" I chose to question instead. I suspected he
wasn't stupid enough to do anything right outside a school where people were
still filtering out. "And how did you get back to England so quick? I only
found out yesterday."

"My mum
told me," he snapped, as if I was stupid. "Now are you going to tell
me, or what?"

Frowning, I
wondered what exactly my dad had planned. He was hardly a spring chicken anymore
and Nick was both young and ripped. "I really don't know that much,"
I admitted. "My mum didn't exactly want to talk about it."

My dad let out
an aggravated sigh. "Just tell me everything and I'll get out of your way
Maddie. I'm not trying to annoy you."

I supposed
there was no harm in it. Nick most certainly deserved whatever was coming to
him and I couldn't say that I cared whether or not my dad got into trouble. If
it meant my mum was safe, this was win-win.

"He's
called Nick." Though he most likely knew that. "He's pretty young,
like maybe 25?" My age estimating wasn't brilliant. "He's got loads
of tattoos. In fact, he looks like a stereotypical prick," I barked out a
breath of humourless laughter. "Wearing sunglasses in the middle of winter
and stuff."

"Do you
know anything else? Hair colour?"

"Actually,
I don't," I admitted. "I think he's pretty close to having a shaved
head. Him and a crony beat up my friend, though, so I could ask him what the
other guy looked like if that helps."

"Wow,"
My dad let out a low whistle. "What is she doing with a wanker like that?
How did she even meet him?"

I shrugged.
"I don't know. I don't know anything about their relationship. They're not
together now, you know?" I checked. "This is just because of
Lily."

"I
know," he stated, voice grim. Then it changed to slight surprise, an
expression that looked utterly foreign on his aged face. "I take it by
friend, you meant teacher," he commented as Ollie approached, arms laden
with books.

"Maybe,"
I muttered, not particularly wanting to meet either men's eyes.

"What's up?"
Ollie inquired after my dad had gestured for him to come over.

"He wants
to know about Nick," I explained.

Ollie looked
sceptical. "Is he going to do something stupid?"

"Probably,"
I responded immediately. "Did I tell you he hit my mum too?" I figured
that would be enough to make him go along with whatever my dad was after.

An angry
wrinkle formed in Ollie's forehead. "You're kidding? What a piece of
shit."

"Exactly,"
my dad interjected his way back into the conversation. "Which is why I
want to know everything so I can go and teach him not to be."

Ollie still
looked like he'd rather not be involved in this. "There's the
police," he reminded us. "And hotlines. This doesn't need to get
nasty."

"Ineffective,"
my father dismissed. "And Ruth isn't the type of woman to use them,
anyway. I'm sure you've talked to her about it, Maddie."

"He's kind
of right," I had to admit. "She promised she'd look into the
hotlines, but I'm not convinced. She just doesn't want Lily to get hurt."

"Okay,
fine," Ollie reluctantly agreed. "But can we talk somewhere that
isn't here, because it looks kind of weird. And also my arms are starting to
hurt."

I chuckled and
my dad nodded. "We'll drive to a café." He decided. "Do you
remember the place we've been to a couple of times with your gran on Plant Street?"
He checked with me. "We can go there, since it's on the outskirts. You
should go with him so he has directions."

I glanced at
Ollie. I wasn't really supposed to get in my teacher's car with him, but
everyone had left the school by now anyway. "Sure," Ollie answered
for me. "Let's go, then."

Ollie looked
particularly wary and I double checked there was no one to see us several times
before we exited the car park rather hastily. "This isn't a good
idea," he informed me bluntly. "What do you think he's going to
do?"

Sighing, I ran
a hand through my hair. "I don't know," I admitted. "And I don't
really care. I don't think he's going to kill him or anything, if that's what
you're thinking, but if he can get rid of this guy then I don't really care
how. My mum doesn't deserve anything like this."

Ollie gave a
brisk nod. "Okay. You've won me over."

I chuckled.
"I'm still not sure how he just ditched work this fast to fly back over
here, though," I frowned. "Unless my gran knew ages ago and it's just
coincidental timing."

"I don't
know, but I still don't like him."

"Me
neither. That's why I don't really care whether he's going to do something that
gets him in trouble or not. As long as it's good for my mum, I'm not concerned
about anything else."

"Has he
really been that bad? I mean, I'm just basing my opinion on that time in the
restaurant. He's still your dad."

"I barely
know him. Maybe he isn't that bad, but how would I know? I've spoken to him
less than ten times my entire life."

"I guess,"
Ollie conceded. "I just can't really imagine that. I've been around a
large family my entire life. Even though my parents are kind of suffocating, I
still love them."

"I don't
hate him and it’s not that I dislike him because he's apparently violent. I
don't like that he's not made the effort to see me. That's the only thing. I'm
not judging whatever bad qualities he has. I'm not wishing he was perfect. I
just wish I actually knew him. That's the only reason I don't care."

"I know
what you mean," Ollie assured me, pulling up where I'd pointed.
"Let's get this over and done with then, I guess."

My father
seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face and I wondered why he was so
bothered. This was even worse than when he'd found out about Lily. Of course it
was completely unacceptable what Nick had done, but my dad had definitely taken
this personally.

After ordering
drinks, the three of us sat around a table in the corner of the empty café.
"So, what did his friend look like?" My dad began the questioning.

Ollie gave as
much information as he could, including what their voices were like, what was
actually on his tattoos, down to the brand of his sunglasses.

“Why exactly
did these guys attack you?” My dad inquired.

“Mum told me to
get out of the house with Lily because Nick was coming over and I couldn’t
think of anywhere else to go. My friends were all busy.” I tried to keep my
tone as nonchalant as possible, but there was going to be no passing off this
situation as normal.

“He’s your
teacher,” my father deadpanned. “How do you even know where he lives?”

“We just became
friends in summer,” I dismissed my dad’s questions, actually hoping to get back
onto the topic of Nick. This was the first time I’d had to attempt to justify
mine and Ollie’s friendship. It was kind of weird. “And then it turned out he
was my teacher. We’re allowed to stay friends.”

There was a
dangerous glint in my dad’s eyes at his next sentence. “If you’ve laid your
hands on my daughter-”

“Dad!” I cried
in protest. “You can’t accuse him of that.” Then I grimaced. “And I don’t
really think you have the right to dictate who does and doesn’t put their hands
on me anyway.”

“So he has?”

“No,” I
complained. “That’s not the point,” I scowled, ignoring Ollie’s flushed face as
best I could. He just looked too cute when he blushed. "What are you
actually going to do?" I couldn't help but inquire, effectively dragging
the conversation away from Ollie and me. I had been joking earlier about him
killing Nick, but my dad looked like his patience had been tested even by
listening to the description of their appearances.

"Some
friends and I are going to go round to his house and make him realise that he
shouldn't be picking on an innocent woman," he informed me in a dark
voice, a small smirk twisting around his mouth. I was starting to think he
might actually be insane. Perhaps I'd made a mistake after all. "I'm not going
to do anything ridiculous," he rolled his eyes at my horrified expression.
"But I'm certainly going to do everything I can to get him to leave her
alone."

Wiping some
condensation off my cup absentmindedly, I pondered whether it was better to
just leave it or not. "How do you still have friends in Sheffield when you
haven't even lived here for sixteen years? It's not like you even visit
often."

He appeared
moderately surprised by my question. "I have friends.”

"Friends
who are willing to go and threaten someone?" I pushed sceptically.

"You
really know absolutely nothing about me, do you?"

"I-what?"
My eyebrows furrowed. Well, that certainly wasn't what I'd been expecting.
"You don't exactly come to see me. How would I have gotten to know
you?"

"Only
because your mother didn't want me to be around you," he confessed with a
slight shrug. "I'm in Sheffield far more often than you realise,
apparently."

My eyes widened
at this new discovery. Of course I'd understood my mum's desire to keep Lily
away from this violent guy she was seeing now, but my dad didn't quite fit into
a category that bad - as far as I knew. "Why not?" He also didn't
seem like the kind of person who would just do whatever was asked of him.
"And how do you afford to travel to and from Dubai that often? If you're
actually a millionaire then I'm seriously missing out on some funds."

"If I tell
you, you'd better not let your mother know about this," he warned.
"She didn't want me to tell you, but I guess you're old enough,
anyway."

"Go on,"
I prompted impatiently, dying to know the truth now. I tried to ignore the
bitter thoughts towards my mother that were seeping in for apparently having
lied to me.

"I don't
live in Dubai," he admitted, a wary expression having taken over his face.
"I live in Nottingham."

I gaped
unattractively and Ollie looked like he was torn between either joining me or
laughing at my reaction. "You've been living a forty five minute drive
away from me this whole time?" I demanded, aghast. Well, now he really had
no excuse for not seeing me.

"Your
mother didn't want me near you," he repeated his earlier reasoning
defensively. "Not after I was put in prison."

My eyes were
practically bulging out of my head at this point. "What did you do?"
I struggled to keep my voice down. "If it was murder then I'm going to
seriously regret giving you this information."

My dad rolled
his eyes. "Obviously not. It was for possession of cocaine," he
explained, not looking as embarrassed as I would have done at admitting that so
readily.

Ollie's
expression was barely being kept neutral at this point and I wasn't even
attempting to do the same.

"A few
months after you were born, I was put in prison for four years. I didn't want
my mum to know, so your mother and I agreed that we'd tell everyone I got a job
in Dubai that was too good to turn down and I'd moved there. It wasn't ideal,
but your mother thought it saved her some embarrassment and it kept my mum
under the impression that her son wasn't a criminal."

"You lied
to everyone," I clarified bluntly.

"Yes,” he
levelled his eyes with mine, daring me to challenge his judgment. "And so
you can see why your mother didn't want me near you. I didn't think it was fair
to go against her wishes and I couldn't stay around here anyway since I was
supposedly living in Dubai. I've lived in Nottingham since I got out, so don't
worry, I have plenty of friends willing to help me out."

I frowned.
"But if you were only in Nottingham, how didn't you know about Lily for so
long?"

"I was in
prison again for a year," he explained. "So I didn't hear the
news."

"Well,"
I breathed. "I certainly wasn't expecting that." I was just going to
assume that he’d been back to jail for dealing or possession again, rather than
something more sinister.

My emotions
were so confused that I'd almost defaulted into sarcasm. I wasn’t sure whether
this gave me adequate reason to hate my dad or not. It was fairly hypocritical
if I did, considering the fact I wasn’t exactly against drugs.

Then there was
my mother. She’d stopped me from getting to know my dad. Admittedly, my
apparently angry, morally ambiguous dad.