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Consequence: An action that is preceded by one’s choices.

L eft where nothing’s right…or right where nothing is left?

Whack .

“Fuck…” I covered my nose. “Why?” I shook my head and backed away. “Is violence necessary? Because breaking my fucking nose is not needed.”

The blood began to fall, so I pinched my nose. Snagging some of the extra gauze off the coffee table, I covered my pained nostrils.

“That’s how you thank a man for saving you?” I said, my voice coming out all nasally. Fuck…

My student had jumped off the couch, breathing fast and intense. It was clear her adrenaline had kicked in, but…

“Careful…I don’t think standing is the best option for you.”

Her injury was catching up to her because she started to wobble like gravity was doing a number on her. She blinked her eyes, trying to focus, and gasped when she looked up.

“You,” she said, squinting at the light behind me.

“Yes, me. First, you stow away in my house to have some damn party, then you get yourself into trouble with some ass-weed, bleed on my couch and now attack me for helping your aggressive ass.” Exasperation swamped me, but I tried to click my nose back into place.

Fallon stared at me dumbfounded, her pretty mouth hung open. She had split her lip, and blood beaded on the pink, puffy texture.

I wanted to lick it off…

I growled at my intrusive thought and smacked the end table with my foot. The action had the girl wide-eyed and backing away from my temper tantrum. I sighed and held up my hands.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, walking over and plopping down on my sofa. “Long day.”

I was exhausted. I couldn’t even sleep because ‘thing fucking one’ was still passed out on my floor. Raking my hand over my face, I pondered the consequences of this stupid fucking party. I just got my life back to a version of normal, and now my dumbass had to go and fuck it up.

These kids were likely to run to mommy and daddy and paint me as some big bad wolf as soon as they got their damn wits back. Honestly, I guess I couldn’t blame them. They were in a ‘murderer’s’ house, after all.

“Son of a bitch,” I said, willing my reality to shift to something less…well, shit.

“Professor Masters?”

I peeked beneath my hand at the woman. Her goddamned body was on display. She had on a T-shirt and some white lace string…thing lying over her ass.

Not fucking fair. Get it together, you old fuck.

Maybe it was just because I was tired as a dead man that I didn’t feel like fighting. I walked over to the bar. My shirt hung over the stool. I hadn’t even bothered to put it on after getting out of the shower after I arrived at this ‘shit show.’ It was still covered in that asshole’s blood.

Probably hers, too, and by the throbbing in my fingers, I was sure some of mine as well.

I didn’t have much clothing here, anything I did have was in my bedroom, and unless I wanted to wake up that girl and have two frazzled females up my ass, I was shit out of luck.

“I have a towel. In the bathroom. It’s down the hall.”

She looked at me like I was an alien, and when I gestured to her attire, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and she bolted.

I didn’t feel a damn bit of shame watching her fine ass run away, and I chuckled to myself when she made it to the bathroom and slammed my door so hard I wondered if it broke the hinges.

“You’re welcome,” I muttered.

I stood up, looking around at the trash bin my apartment had become. There was beer, piss, blood, and trash all over the fucking place.

“Son of a bitch,” I repeated and headed toward the bathroom.

I heard a thump from down the hall, and I had to wonder if the Little Voyeur was going to try to slice me with a razor or something.

I tapped on the door, listening for any signs of trouble.

“You, okay? I will drop you if you swing at me again. Fair warning. I don’t like headaches, woman. And you are a big one.”

There was more rustling from inside the room, and I hesitated. Taking a chance on the slicing, I put my ear against the door and listened.

She was…crying.

Ah hell.

I tapped on the door again, wishing Ezello was here to console the chick.

I didn’t know what to do with the crying.

When Xeny was a baby, she put on the waterworks, and I used to sing to her.

I didn’t know why she seemed to like my voice, but I sang “Tennessee Whiskey” every night I had her in my arms.

She didn’t seem to mind that her dad was serenading her with a song about a breakup and alcoholism, so maybe this girl wouldn’t either. I cleared my throat, feeling majorly uncomfortable and far beyond my wheelhouse.

My guitar was in the bedroom, so my voice alone would have to be heard.

Sitting down on the opposite side of the door and leaning against it, I let the song’s tune free. The bass of my tone was a hum in the quiet space. It was weird to sing after so long, but for some reason, it felt…right.

I held my chest, my Xenia close to my heart. I gave that song all I could, rolling over the melody with my raspy ass voice. When I finished, I waited to hear, leaning off the wood and trying to pick up on any sniffles.

I didn’t expect the door to creak open, the ferocious little blonde peaking her tear-drenched eyes through the crack.

“You sound beautiful…and I love that song. My brother. He used to sing it to me.”

I remembered the name on the tombstone.

“Noah,” I said, and her bright eyes flashed with surprise.

“Yes…how did you know that?”

I thought better of telling her about the hallucinations of my dead daughter and what she showed me, so instead, I shrugged.

She cracked the door wider. My bath towel wrapped around her sexy legs as she sat crisscrossed by the door.

I stayed where I was, not wanting to spook her further.

“You’re not the only one who looks into others, Little Voyeur,” I teased, seeing myself smile in the reflection of her eyes.

She contemplated that, chewing on her ruined lip. The action made me resist biting it myself.

“Why were you in the cemetery? Did you lose someone, too?”

I looked away from her. My eyes landed on the glass table across the hallway. “My daughter.”

I heard her gasp, and it was my turn to be surprised when I felt her warm hand caressing my own. Her touch left weird sparks in its wake, and I frowned, the sensation confusing me.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t know. I thought you were a weirdo.” I caught her gaze, and she lifted her chin.

“Oh, I am.” I grinned.

She smiled softly and rubbed her arms. I hadn’t noticed before, but there were marks on her skin. Bruises and her tears washed away the make-up mask she’d painted on to reveal even more discoloration on her face.

Anger hit my gut, boiling my blood. “Who did that to you? That man? I’ll fucking kill him.”

“No…” She jerked her hand back and hid her face. “Just leave it alone.”

I growled. The irritation of this woman not letting me defend her honor made me lethal. I didn’t know why she made me want to behave like some white knight bullshit, but here I was, ready to bring down kingdoms. Maybe it was because we were a lot alike.

Both of us wore masks to hide from the demands of the public. Both of us submit to obedience to avoid showing our true faces.

“That guy didn’t hurt you tonight.”

She looked at me, her beautiful eyes shining through the gap she made in her fingers. “What do you mean?”

I breathed out a sigh and ran my fingers through my hair. The need to coat my hands in that fuck’s blood ebbed at my control.

“When I found you, that guy was trying to…take from you. But I fucked him up. He learned what consent means.”

She slowly lowered her hands. “Guess you’re a teacher, after all.”

She was hiding behind a meaningless joke, but I chuckled low to make her feel better. She stared at me, something warm and curious in her gaze. I leaned toward her, the intensity in her stare drawing me in. Her lips parted, and I inhaled her breath.

“Little Voyeur…” I warned, hearing her shaky breaths. “Don’t go looking at me like that.”

She blinked her lashes low.

“Like what?” she said hesitantly, unsure and shy but not moving away.

“Like you want to fuck me,” I said, my own words sounding as hard as my dick right now.

“I…” She looked down at my pants, then up my body, landing on my lips and eyes. Her scrutiny made me feverish.

I shouldn’t be like this with a student.

Wanting to fuck a woman I was paid to teach wasn’t good. I was a smart man, but fuck me if women didn’t make me dumb as shit.

She leaned forward slowly. Her lips were so close to my own that I could taste the metallic tang of the blood.

“Professor...I—”

The door to the bedroom flew open.