Page 13 of Almost Rotten

Why is he touching her like that?

What happened in that fucking meeting this morning?

Before I can utter a word, Sawyer’s eyes fill with tears, and my instincts do a one-eighty.

The desperation to comfort takes over, the need to protect her and bring her peace tempering the rage brewing in my gut.

She holds up both hands, clearly reading my intentions, and whispers, “Wait. Please. Let’s get to your office first.”

I loathe the idea of waiting another second to comfort her, but I refrain from pulling her into my arms, per her request.

As I collect my things, an ache settles in my chest. When I’ve loaded it all into my bag, I circle the podium and hold out one arm, encouraging her to go first.

What I want to do is wrap her in a hug.

What I ache to do is hold her, cup the back of her head, soothe all her worries, and give her my undivided attention.

Instead, I simply usher her forward and say, “As you wish, Ms. Davvies.”

Chapter six

Sawyer

“I’ll just be two minutes.” I don’t give Mercer time to reply before ducking into the restroom.

The second I cross the threshold, tears stream down my cheeks freely.

It’s the first moment of privacy I’ve had in hours.

A sob escapes me, but I clamp my palm over my mouth in an attempt to hold it all in.

The pressure in my chest is heavy enough to cleave my body in two.

But I don’t have time to fully fall apart.

Mercer is waiting for me, so I have to keep my shit together. And I really do have to pee.

As I finish washing my hands, my phone vibrates in my bag.

Quickly, I yank two paper towels from the dispenser and pat my hands dry. Then I fish it out.

Two text notifications greet me. Both are from Tytus.

Ty:Thought you might wanna see for yourself exactly what the dean had access to earlier.

Attached to the message is a video.

My stomach cramps and bile threatens to work its way up my esophagus once more.

I don’t need to click on the file to know what it is, but I do it anyway. A heartbeat later, I tap the screen, pausing the video. I don’t want to actually see it.

The information I’m looking for pops up on the bottom of the screen.

Four and a half minutes.

Tytus stood in the shadows, watching us have sex in the locker room, for at least four and a half minutes.

Maybe longer. That’s just how long he recorded.