Page 7 of Brat Baby (Sugar Life #1, #3)

Hudson

Darcy and I pull up in a convoy in front of Derek’s place, our car doors slamming simultaneously and echoing in the early evening air. I wait for him by the driveway, hands jammed into my pockets and head feeling completely rotten.

The fact that we have all left her last message in the brand-new group chat we have with her on read is fucking killing me.

Emery: This has all been a huge misunderstanding. I swear I didn’t lie to you. Please, can we just talk? We can work this out.

I’ve read it more times than I can count, each time hurting a little more. Death by a thousand cuts.

How must she be feeling. Alone? Tossed to the side? Abandoned? The persistent ache in my chest swells to an untenable discomfort, and I force a deep breath to try to ease it.

Darcy barely slows as he gets closer, forcing me to turn and match his stride or get left on the street.

How did this morning go so completely wrong? I’ve played back every scenario, every alternate choice we could have made, now knowing that the cards had already been stacked, without our knowledge.

Had we acted like assholes? Yes, absolutely. But with the dataset we had at the time, it was a reasonable reaction, considering it looked like she had stalked us to our place of work. However, now that we know the truth… This whole situation has turned into a fucking shit show.

Xavier’s car is blocking Derek’s in the driveway.

As we pass, an image of keying the full-body length of his sedan for getting us into this situation intrudes into my mind and elicits a smile.

Fuck, that would feel good. It would feel even better if I thought he cared about his car.

Fucking asshole. How could he do this to us?

There must be a way to fix this. She is meant to be ours.

With each step, my leather boots thump on the concrete drive until we jog up the few stone steps that are a part of the retaining wall. The silence remains until we enter through the front door and step in to find a silent house.

Anyone who knows Derek knows his house is never silent if he is in it. There is always something on the television, and by something, I mean a sport of any kind.

If I had even a modicum of charity right now, I’d be worried for Xavier.

I thought Derek was going to murder him, right then and there in his office, after finding the altered contract.

Which would have been fucking terrible on all counts, but most especially because I am confident that Xavier is the only one of us who knows how to dispose of a body.

Not that I’ve ever seen him do it or that he has ever mentioned such a thing.

It’s just the air that he has about him and in the vague details he has given us about his past. I wouldn’t put it past him to be one of those crazy people who watch serial killer documentaries for their educational purposes.

Probably critiques them too.

I shoot a concerned look at Darcy, whose heavy expression lifts for a fraction of a second before he speaks. “You don’t think one of them has killed the other, do you?”

A sour chuckle escapes at our similar thoughts. “No, Derek has more restraint than that.”

As we come out of the hallway and into the living area, I spot Derek over by the poker table, shoulder leaning against the window that looks out onto the front lawn, and a glass filled with bourbon in his hand. He doesn’t acknowledge that we have arrived, even though he surely watched us walk up.

Xavier has his ass planted on the couch, no drink in sight, as he scrolls on his phone one-handed, all fucking nonchalant, like he hasn’t jeopardized all our careers.

Like the corner of his mouth isn’t all swollen, with a small cut on his lower lip from the last time we were all in the same room together.

Realistically, only Derek and I have anything to worry about, since Emmy isn’t in either of their classes. I checked. We’re also the only two who are permanent employees of Newton University. Darcy is doing the guest lecturer thing, and Xavier has a year-to-year contract.

None of us need the work, but it’s more about the time and effort that Derek and I have put in to get onto the tenure track. He is tenured and the head of his department. I’m still a couple of years away.

When neither of them acknowledges that we have arrived, I glance at Darcy. The confusion on his face smooths out into resolution, and he strides over to Derek’s wet bar to get us both a beer.

“So, what’s the plan? Anyone got any ideas?” he calls out to no one in particular as he pops the top off one, then the other beer.

Xavier doesn’t look up from his phone as he responds. “Why does the plan need to change?”

All the pain and fury that has been rolling around inside of me propels me toward the back of the couch.

My voice comes out harsh to my own ears, throat screaming as my anger erupts.

“She’s a goddamn student, Xavier! And not just any student, but our student.

Derek and I could lose everything over this.

How could you put us in this situation? How could you not even ask?

You played god, and now we are the ones on the hook if anyone finds out.

This is so far across the fucking line that I’m not sure if I can forgive you for this.

You didn’t see her face staring back at you for two fucking hours.

She cried. The entire time. Silently. I don’t even think she realized she was crying.

Tears constantly streaming down her cheeks every time I looked at her. It fucking broke me.”

I inhale through my nose as my arms tingle with the urge to hit something. Looking at her had been so fucking hard that I’d avoided it at all costs, only caving when she was taking notes. I’m certain she believes I was ignoring her, but I wasn’t. It was her tears.

As much as I want her tears, I want them with consent, not pouring from her in an uncontrollable endless stream, displaying her inner turmoil to anyone who sees.

Tension fills the room. Without looking, I know that the other two are staring at us.

Heat burns under my skin and my pulse is pounding.

An overriding need to find her, hold her, tell her that I’m sorry for walking away gnaws at my bones.

I need to tell her that she is mine and that I’ll fight for her at the expense of everything else.

So fucking slowly that I’m sure that someone has reduced the speed on time, Xavier looks up from his phone and makes direct eye contact with me. “Are you done?”

I lunge at him from over the back of the couch. Something flickers across his eyes, but I’m yanked back and onto my feet before I can decipher it. Arms band around my chest, but that doesn’t stop me from lunging again. “You fucking bastard. You ruined this, for all of us.”

Xavier stares back at me, unblinking, and honestly, I could kill him. I could wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze. I could get his little knife roll and slice him open with each blade.

He has basically made it so that we can never have her. Not unless we walk away from our careers. From our lives. Or force her out of the university.

I sag against the arms holding me up. “I’m good,” I mutter, reaching up to jam my thumb and forefinger into my eyelids.

When a beer is shoved into my hand, presumably from Darcy, I figure it must have been Derek holding me back. Turning, I give him a nod to say thanks for not letting me commit a felony. But also moderately annoyed that he didn’t let me get at least one punch in.

“I actually do have an idea, if you’re all done with your huffing and puffing,” Derek states, pointedly staring at me. “Turning on each other isn’t going to help us.”

I turn to glare at him. “You were choking this asshole up against your office wall just this morning. I think I’m allowed to have a fucking minute.”

When all Derek does is stare back at me, I turn my back on him and put some distance between us by heading over to the wet bar myself. I have a feeling this beer won’t last me very long.

“What’s the idea?” Darcy asks, breaking the silence yet again.

I turn to face the room and prop my shoulder against the cabinetry.

“Thayne gets back from his vacation in three weeks. We go no contact with Emery until we have a chance to talk with him. If anyone knows a way around this situation, it’ll be the dean of the university. I’ve already sent him a text message.”

The last time I saw Thayne was at the collaring ceremony between himself and his two submissives, which was hosted at Obsession, our BDSM club.

I’d only ever known the man as a dom-for-hire, never taking on a sub in anything other than a short-term contract where he provided training and guidance for their next dom.

That all ended when he met Abigail and Wyatt.

Now the man has two subs and a baby on the way.

“Do you think he’ll help us? He fired O’Shanessey three years ago for sleeping with that TA,” Darcy reminds us all as he picks at the label of his beer.

My mouth moves before I can stop it. “Yeah, but he only did that after a complaint was filed by another TA. They kept it completely secret from everyone else, instead of declaring it. Until this morning, we… well, the majority of us”—I clench my jaw as I work to keep a glare from Xavier—“didn’t know that we had that relationship with Emmy. ”

Darcy swallows a mouthful of his beer and nods.

“That’s true. Which means that the only person here who continued their relationship with Emmy, knowing she’s a student, is Xav.

” He tips his bottle in Xavier’s direction.

“So, really, the three of us are in the clear. Xav is the only one who can get fired for this. As for Emmy, if you want to look at it super technically, she wasn’t actually a student until this morning.

So, she didn’t fuck her professors over the weekend.

And as long as we don’t do it again, now that we know, we should be in the clear. ”

I smirk at him as I raise my drink to my lips. “You’re a lawyer now?”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Never. My parents and siblings can have that honor.”

“Anyway,” Derek cuts in before we can derail the conversation any further.

“Yay or nay on the keeping our distance for three weeks? I also plan to check the code of conduct and any other policies I can get my hands on without raising any red flags while we wait for Thayne. Once we declare it, we might be able to find a way around all of this and get things back on track with Emery. But until then, no contact. Let’s not make this situation any muddier than it already is. ”

I don’t even hesitate. “Yay.”

If all I need to do is keep my distance for three weeks to have my kitten back in my hands, I can do that.

“Yay,” Darcy states before draining the last of his beer.

Once again, we all turn to Xavier, and I honestly don’t give a fuck what his answer is. While what Darcy, Darek, and I did falls somewhere in the gray area, at least we can plead ignorance. But him? He is fucked.

So, I am not at all surprised when he simply doesn’t respond.

Derek sighs. “Yay. Majority rules. No one is to approach Emmy.”

“Should we at least tell her what’s going on?” Darcy asks, furrows forming between his brows as he picks at the label on his beer. “She is going to think we abandoned her.”

I’m shaking my head as Derek answers. “No. The most likely outcome of our conversation with Thayne is that he declines it. Four professors with one student? As much as the man is involved in our community, he’ll have to put his position as dean above everything else, otherwise he will undermine his own power.

There is no point in getting Emery’s hopes up that we can make this work.

It’s best that she starts healing from this now, rather than after being stringed along for an additional three weeks. ”

A silence falls over the room, but it doesn’t last long.

As if he has suddenly remembered that he needs to be somewhere else, Xavier surges up and heads to the front door without a word.

None of us stops him. It’s probably a good thing that he’s leaving, to be honest. I can’t stand to look at him right now, not when Emmy’s tear-streaked face is a freshly burned-in memory. I’m sure the others feel the same.

Upending my beer, I drain the last of it before turning to the bar and opening the mini fridge to get a second. As I straighten, Derek stops beside me and reaches for the decanter of amber liquid. A memory from today assaults me.

“Did you happen to notice Emmy’s laptop today?” I ask quietly, hoping beyond hope that she has one and that the battery was just dead by the time she got to my class.

“Don’t you mean, the lack of a laptop?” he volleys back as he pours two fingers of bourbon into his crystal tumbler.

My stomach aches. A piece-of-shit phone and no laptop. What freshman starts their first day of college with no laptop? Or even a tablet?

“We still owe her eleven rewards. That agreement was made in the weekend contract. She completed that contract, so it’s only right that we fulfill our side,” I reply, attempting to keep my voice even. Not to mention that all those rewards are from my scene.

We all just voted on no contact, but surely having a laptop delivered won’t breach that.

Derek remains quiet until he has replaced the decanter on the shelf. “That has already been taken care of.”

Then the fucker just walks away.

My annoyance melts away and is replaced by a giddy feeling. He isn’t the only one who can send her gifts. I’m going to make sure our girl knows that we haven’t abandoned her.

Even if I have to buy her every damn thing she has ever needed.