Chapter 314. Back To School, Again IV

Chapter 314: 314. Back To School, Again IV

Maisie

It had him and his controlling nature written all over it. Trying to make me do something without asking me directly by pulling and pushing my strings and then sweetening the deal by bankrolling me. How devious. But I didn’t mind. I loved reading. And I loved having a job even more. It made me feel good.

"Have a good day, Adams," Atlas said, waving me off like a bug.

But when my hand closed over the door knob, she asked, "Did you find it?"

I glanced over my shoulder, frowning. "Pardon?"

"What you were searching for. With Graham?"

My mood went sour again. "No."

But the fact that I didn’t find any mark on her didn’t mean anything. I would be a foolish woman if I kept holding onto the hope that there was a reason why he met with her.

I was done giving him excuses. And I was certainly nobody’s fool.

***

Classes went by uneventfully.

Regina, Jenny and Juliette saved me a seat, and while it felt good to find my place among them once again, it was clear that there was still a lot to unpack between us, judging from the awkward tension in the air.

Regina kept most of her remarks to herself and hesitated before speaking at all. And when I scribbled down onto my notes, I felt her staring at me like I was an alien.

Juliette kept exhaling sadly behind us, and when I glanced once over my shoulder, she was shading feline eyes onto the front of her notebook.

Jenny was quieter. And she laughed a whole lot less. In the months I was gone, she changed, too. The death of a loved one would do that to anyone, and I found myself sneaking glances at her the entire time, trying to find the right window to talk to her about Lyon.

To apologize to her. To get rid of the guilt eating me alive. If I hadn’t dragged Lyon into my life, maybe he’d still be breathing. And I had to apologize for that.

But that wouldn’t bring him back, would it?

I couldn’t hear a single word of the lecture.

The sound of notifications filled the air, followed by soft snickers. Everyone was talking about the West Tower picture. And after our moment in the bathroom, Tessa was content with helping fuel the flames.

My leg bounced against the desk unconsciously. I couldn’t stop it. My hands were shook around my pen and the ink smudged my paper, ripping it.

Regina’s phone vibrated and I caught the notorious photo on her screen before she slipped it into her pocket, hiding it from me. The picture now had two thousand and seventy five comments.

Zaytsev didn’t bother with trying to humiliate me anymore. No. Mercer had done more than enough of that. She didn’t try to chide the class for being distracted during her lectures, either. She was reveling in my discomfort and I was one more tick away from losing it.

The clock chimed eleven, and I bolted out of my chair so fast the metal screeched against the floor. I shoved my books into my bag with jerky movements as Zaytsev began handing out assignments.

"Maisie," Regina caught my wrist. "Where are you going?"

"Counselor’s," I answered, shaking her off to work the zipper.

She eyed me suspiciously out the corner of her eyes.

I needed to get out. I needed Jericho like I needed a bottle of Advil. He’d make me feel better. "I’ll... see you at lunch?" I asked, eyes darting from hers to Jenny, and I didn’t wait for their nods before I escaped into the hallway, having sighted Zaytsev readying herself to give me the "Meet me in my office" look.

But I didn’t think I had the patience to handle one more catty woman today.

I hurried through the hallway, heart ricocheting off my ribs, and I took the staircases three at a time.

The Counselor’s was located awfully close to Atlas’s live-in quarters, and I didn’t bother knocking before I twisted the doorknob and slipped inside.

"Jericho?"

The space was large, warm, and unexpectedly cozy. Two deep, plush white L-shaped couches faced each other over a thick woven rug, piled high with soft throw blankets.

Off to the side, a sleek mahogany desk faced a tall, arched window that flooded the room with soft morning light. Set against the far wall was a mini-fridge and a low wooden table where a kettle sat steaming next to a freshly made mug of latte, its rich, creamy aroma cutting through my panic for a second.

But it wasn’t Jericho sitting behind the desk.

It was a slight, older woman with greying hair and a soft smile. "You must be Maisie," she said. "You may call me Gwen. Please, have a seat--"

"Where’s Jericho?" I asked, voice harsher than I intended it to be, but she didn’t seem to mind.

"He got called in last minute for a meeting. You mustn’t have received his message," she answered, and I slipped the cellphone out of my pocket, confirming that he did send a text an hour ago.

"I’ll come back another time," I said, feeling stupid for some reason. I’d worn a skirt. It was a really nice skirt.

I was about turning around when she spoke. "Do you trust Vane?"

I glanced over my shoulder. I’d come to learn when someone called Jericho ’Vane’, it meant they knew him way back. Way, way back.

Gwen lifted a cup of coffee and placed it on the table between the couches, pushing it with the tip of her finger to the other edge, like I had already decided to sit. "Vane would never have called me here if he didn’t trust me with you, and we both know Vane’s trust is a difficult thing to come by."

I worried my bottom lip and she added gently, "One session, Adams, and if you leave with doubts and discomfort, then it will be the last we ever have a conversation. Vane has been doing great, taking notes of everything on your behalf, but I’m well aware there are things you would hesitate before sharing with someone you deeply loved, over sharing with a stranger who’s sworn an oath of silence."

I eyed the coffee. It smelled really, really good. "Why do you call him Vane?"

She smiled. "He liked the alias during our sessions." I could tell that wasn’t the entire truth, but she’d gotten me curious enough and I promised I would be out of there after I had the coffee.

Just one cup.