“I do, but stay anyway.”
“Levi, please don’t make this harder for me…”
“For you? This isn’t just hard for—”
She turned, moving on top of me, and kissed me quickly. “I’ve told you most of my story, I’m just going to finish it now so that you can understand.”
All I could do was nod.
“My father is at Northern Correctional.”
I cringed. It was one of the worst maximum-security state prisons in the state of Connecticut.
“You know the Savannah Van Allen case?” she continued.
I sat up suddenly, my eyes widening in understanding. “You father is Ben Walton?”
She nodded. “Yes. My father is Ben Walton, and he’s currently on death row for the rape and murder of the Boston socialite, Savannah Van Allen. My mother was supposed to represent him. I was just a child at a time, and my sister wasn’t even a year old. But I remember it all. The day Savannah Van Allen was murdered, my father took my sister and I to the Woodstock Fair. There were photos to prove it. My mother knew, she could have had the case thrown out. But then she found out that he was planning to leave her for Savannah. So, in a fit of rage, she handed off his case to a friend, burned all the photos we took that day, and took my sister and I out of town.”
Margaret Cunning was the devil.
“He’s been in prison now for almost two decades, and my mother only confessed to this three months ago. I’m in law school right now because every damn lawyer I went to didn’t believe me, didn’t have time or they didn’t want to touch his case. My grandmother has been paying some scumbag lawyer for appeals, and he’s just barely doing anything. At this point, I’m not even sure if he went to law school. So, I’m all my dad has left, and I have to be the best damn lawyer I can, so that I can get him out before it’s too late. So now you understand why I can’t stay here with you. I need you to teach me, and you can’t do that while you’re screwing me at the same time.”
She got off of me, and gathered the rest of her clothes, while I sat there and trying to restart my brain.
“Thea.”
She didn’t turn back, instead she kept getting dress.
“Thea.”
Grabbing my jeans, I followed her down the stairs.
“I’m sorry I missed class today professor Black, it won’t happen again,” she called over her shoulder as she tried to open the door.
I slammed it shut.
“You have a horrible habit of running away from me.”
“It’s called self-preservation.”
“It’s called bullshit. Look at me.”
“No.”
“Thea, look at me!”
She still didn’t move.
Damn her stubbornness!
“Hear me out, and then I’ll let you leave.”
“Fine.”
She turned back and I kissed her. She kissed me back for a split second before pushing me away. “That’s what you wanted to say?”
“Yes and no. I understand that this is complicated, and messy, and just all around fucked up. But I also know that you feel the same way about me, as I feel about you, no matter how much you try to deny it.”