Page 78 of The Forbidden Note

Zane jerks his head to the door, insistent.

I stubbornly look down again, taking out a red pen and writing notes over a student’s essay. I’m pretty sure I’m writing gibberish, but I’m desperate to look busy.

The shadow over me gets smaller. I don’t check, but I feel Zane’s domineering presence withdraw from my desk. His military boots thump the ground and I think he’s going to leave.

For a second, relief washes over my body.

I let out a sigh.

Until I hear his voice lifting in the quiet lounge.

“You heard her. She said to leave,” Zane growls.

A confused hush settles on the room.

I whip my head up.

Stunned, I see that Zane is glaring at the other teachers.

At once, grown adults shuffle their papers into folders, replace their comfortable shoes with pumps and shiny leather oxfords, and slink out of the room.

In less than five seconds flat, the room is empty.

Just like that.

He commanded every teacher at Redwood Prep.

One word.

One snap of his fingers.

I’m shaking so badly, I’m sure Zane can notice.

His dark gaze moves over me. He slams the door closed and locks it angrily.

I shoot to my feet. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He stalks across the room, scowling.

“You can’t just do that.” I throw an arm at the door. “You can’t just chase out your teachers and lock doors and act like you own this place. Because you don’t. You don’t own Redwood and you don’t own me. So get the hell out of my face.”

He remains standing by my desk, staring at me with those stormy blue eyes.

My entire world seems to shrink to this moment, to this anger, to this desperation.

I lash out, a tornado of pain, anger and guilt. “What? What do you want, Zane?” I drop my voice to a harsh whisper. “You think I’ll let you screw me again if I get fired? Is that why you did this?”

“I didn’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Liar.” He presses his palms against my table, on either side of my plaque, and leans in. “You believe me, Grey. You just want to take your anger out on someone. It’s fine if that person is me, but at least have the guts to admit it.”

The emotions welling in my chest reach a breaking point.

I swing at him.

He grabs my arm. Rough fingers wrap around my wrist.