TWO
TWO
EOGHAN
The second the dean walked into the bathroom, I was there.
Waiting.
One forearm around his throat, the other lifting his arm and squeezing until the bastard was on the brink of passing out.
Before he could, I dropped him to the ground, satisfied with the clink of his head colliding against the floor tiles.
Around a groan, he slurred, “What do you want?”
Slipping my knife out of its ankle sheath, I crouched down beside him. “To talk.”
“To talk?” He whimpered. “My wallet is in my left breast pocket. Take it. My watch—it’s expensive too. Please, take it. Just leave me alone,” he pleaded.
I narrowed my eyes on him. “Look at my shoes.”
He groaned, didn’t comply, so I reached down, grabbed a hold of his chin and forced him to look at me.
Did I look like a goddamn mugger?
“These were hand-stitched by monks,” I sniped. “Do you think I need your shitty watch or your shitty wallet?”
“Don’t understand,” he rasped, his brow puckering as he started to regain more of his motor control.
“I’ll explain…” I tucked the knife under his chin, digging the pointed end into the soft flesh.
He whimpered again, froze, and stared at me with terrified eyes.
“You touched my wife.”
“I didn’t!”
“You did. You don’t even know who my wife is,” I said with a sneer. “Inessa told me you asked her to go to your office when you were offering her valedictorian, and when she was in there, you accosted her.”
She hadn’t said much more than that.
I knew he hadn’t assaulted her because she hadn’t been upset. Just angry.
I was upset, however.
Andangry.
Enough for the pair of us.
“Inessa O’Donnelly is your wife?”
Much as always, hearing her full name sent sparks oflifethrough my veins.
The reason I got up in the morning.
The reason I didn’t put a gun to my head and blow it off.
I dug the knife in deeper until I felt the skin part and start to seep blood. He squealed at the pressure, at the pain, and I rasped, “Yes, she’s my wife. You. Touched. Her.”