Chapter 4: The Forbidden Note: Chapter 4

Present Day

Eerie silence fills the room. It’s dark except for the one, lone light hanging from the ceiling.

The air stinks of bleach and the unmistakeable scent of death.

I’m standing in a circle.

To my left, Zane is leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest.

To my right, Cadence is holding her little sister.

We’re all staring at the woman on the metal roll-out. Eyes closed. Lips blue. Fingers flat on a sterile metal sheet.

The dead body is… well… dead.

And it surprises me how relieved most of the people in this room are to see that.

My teeth slide between my bottom lip as I glance at Cadence, waiting for the opportune moment to offer support.

That moment never comes.

Maybe it never will.

For one thing, she has Dutch, Zane and Finn here to comfort her.

For another, I don’t think she’s grieving.

I could be wrong. Everyone expresses sorrow in their own way, but I’ve seen grief before. The way it crushes you. Twists you in a vice grip. It’s like having your heart ripped out of your chest and tossed into the ocean.

I’ve tasted darkness. Hopelessness. Loss.

And I don’t get that vibe from Cadence.

She looks resigned rather than mournful.

Or maybe she’s just so shocked she’s gone numb.

“I’ll give you a moment,” I say, sensing that this is a private gathering.

“You can stay, Miss Jamieson,” Cadence says bleakly. Her solemn brown eyes move to me. “And thank you.”

“It’s…” I choke on the words ‘my pleasure’.

It’s not that it was a hassle.

I just don’t think responding to a call from the police about a student’s mother being found in the back of an alley is something I should attach the words ‘my pleasure’ to.

“Are you sure?” Viola, Cadence’s little sister, cries out. The two girls look alike, but Viola seems more fragile than her sister. “Are you sure she’s dead this time?”

This time?

Cadence walks right up to the dead body and pokes it.

My jaw drops.

Dutch snorts.

Zane shuffles his feet and coughs into his hand.

Finn narrows his eyes in disgust.

“I’m sure,” Cadence says flatly.

My eyes travel from her dull expression to the body and back again. The light above us flickers and it feels like I’m in a classic horror novel. Frankenstein. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Dracula.

I may not be a guidance counsellor, but I don’t think these kids are okay.

Viola covers her face with her hands. Her dark hair flails against shoulders that shake with her sobs.

My heart aches for her.

Whatever Cadence’s complicated relationship with her mother, it’s clear that Viola had a much different experience.

“Sorry, Vi,” Dutch Cross says. His tall form casts a shadow over the cadaver.

He doesn’t look sorry.

More like annoyed.

Cadence just stares at her mother’s body, unmoving from her place at the head of the metal slab.

Viola cries louder.

Zane gives her a hug. He’s much bigger than her. Covered in tattoos. A bad boy in a groomsman tux. But, when he brushes his fingers over the little girl’s face, he’s gentle.

Viola turns into him and hugs his waist.

Touching Cadence’s shoulder, I say, “I’ll wait outside.”

Zane catches my eye as I slip past him to get to the door. I pretend not to see and stop in the lobby just outside the morgue.

The air is cleaner here. Not as cloying. Not as much bleach.

I press my hand against the wall and place a fist to my chest.

Memories of another dead body fill my head.

Except her body wasn’t in one piece.

Don’t think about it.

I cover my stomach with one hand and try not to hyperventilate.

The sound of heels clicking prompts me to turn around.

Cadence, Viola and the Cross brothers are walking out of the morgue. Cadence’s fingers are tight in the skirt of her fluffy white dress. Her little sister is under her arm, still crying. The sound of her stifled sobs make my stomach turn.

A nurse enters the room.

She glances at Dutch first, gaze lingering on his face and then moves to Finn before landing on Zane. She bounces around the three of them, her eyes widening in shock after every rotation.

Not surprising.

The Cross brothers paint a terrifyingly beautiful picture. Today, they’re all standing in three-piece suits and tuxes, their hair carefully styled. Each one of them is intimidating in their own right, but together? They own every room they enter, just like they own Redwood Prep.

Zane doesn’t shy away from the nurse’s ogling. He crosses his arms over his chest, his hot, menacing slash of a mouth curling up. Like his twin, Zane is over six feet but his eyes are sapphire blue rather than whiskey-amber and his hair is an almost purple-black.

The nurse blushes harder.

I feel a stab of annoyance.

“Did you need something?” I ask, prompting her.

“Ah yes.” She manages to rip her eyes from Zane. Her words are aimed at Cadence. “The police would like to speak with you.”

Viola stiffens and grabs her sister’s arm.

It feels like I’m missing something, but I’m not sure I want to know what it is.

“Dutch,” Cadence says.

He nods. “I know.”

“Vi, go with—”

“Finn, can you watch Viola?” Dutch speaks at the same time.

Cadence’s eyebrows tighten. “I meant for you to—”

“I know what you meant,” he answers gruffly. “And if you think for a freaking minute that I’ll leave you to handle the cops alone, you don’t know me at all.”

The two glare at each other.

I watch them both.

The teenagers make an unusual pair.

Cadence Cooper is a gifted piano prodigy. At the start of the school year, she was recruited by my friend Henry Mulliez—the previous music teacher at Redwood.

Henry asked me to look out for her when he left, but I would have done it anyway. Cadence and I have a lot in common.

We’re both scholarship kids.

We both come from broken homes.

We both have a Cross-sized target on our backs.

Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t outrun Dutch.

I have no plans of following a similar path with Zane.

Even if I wanted to—which I don’t—it wouldn’t be possible.

For many reasons.

Finn escorts Viola out of the room while Cadence and Dutch leave with the nurse to speak to the police.

My duty as a teacher is done.

Besides, the last thing I want to be is alone with Zane Cross.

I make a break for it.

Zane’s answering footsteps pound through the hallway.

I hasten my stride and make it all the way outside when he decides to end the chase. In three giant footsteps, he’s in front of me.

“Hold up, tiger.”

I stiffen at the name. My eyes dart around the parking lot.

It’s relatively empty this early in the day, but that doesn’t mean people aren’t watching. Listening.

“I told you not to speak to me,” I hiss.

One side of his lips curl up in that devil-may-care smirk. He draws closer. “Is there some law against me talking to my step-sister?”

My stomach churns at the term.

Zane Cross does not look at me like I’m his step-sister.

And the things he’s done to me…

Damn.

I put myself in an awkward position by accidentally sleeping with a student, but Zane Cross being my brother?

That’s all mom.

I have no idea why she showed up married to Jarod Cross of all people. She explained it a hundred times and it still doesn’t make sense.

Why would Jarod Cross, a living, breathing musical legend fall for a random waitress at a truckstop diner? Why would he get married to her after only a few weeks?

Zane narrows his eyes, turning serious. “We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“Have you noticed anyone following you?” He glances at my car. “Or felt like you were being tailed?”

“No.”

His jaw muscles work.

“Why are you asking that?”

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“About Cadence’s mother being dead?”

“About who might be behind it.”

The accusation behind his words give me pause. “What does that mean?”

He doesn’t answer.

“They say it was an overdose,” I remind him.

The serious look disappears, instantly replaced by his signature smirk. “Just to be safe, why don’t you move out of dad’s house and move into mine? Nowhere is safer than in my bed.”

Of course, he’s messing with me.

I scoff. “Now that we’re here, I want to speak to you about something too.”

He tilts his head.

“It’s about what you did that day.”

“What day?” He leans down. His warm breath fans my lips. “You have to be more specific.”

I feel a shudder run down my spine, but I steel myself against it. “When we’re at school, I am your teacher. If you ever,” I step closer to him and poke a finger in his chest, “pick me up and throw me over your shoulder like that again—”

“You’ll what?” He moves into me, his nose practically on top of mine.

My heartbeat pounds.

“Put me on time out?” Zane taunts. “Spank me?” His voice is deep and rumbles through me, scratching at the parts of me that have never forgotten his touch. “What’s my punishment, Miss Jamieson?”

My nostrils flare. I step back. “Rule number one, don’t speak to me unless you have to. Rule number two, don’t touch me. Rule number three, always return to rules one and two.”

He licks his lips, a flash of a pink tongue over full lips. “Sorry.” He shrugs. “I’m not the type to follow rules.”

“Zane,” I growl.

He smirks, sticks his hands into his pockets and walks away.

I glare daggers into his strong back.

Zane Cross is a tall, tattooed menace. He has an air of danger around him that’s only gotten stronger since our first meeting. It doesn’t help that he has a bomb that could explode all over my career and ruin my mission at Redwood Prep.

I wish with all my heart that I’d never laid eyes on him.

He turns back, sees me still watching and winks.

Disgusted, I yank my car door open and climb in.

I don’t know what’s worse—having a one-night stand with a student or having a one-night stand with my step-brother.

Either way, I’m ruined if anyone finds out.

My phone buzzes.

I glance at the screen as a hum careens through my veins.

I’ve got a new message.

From Jinx.

Unknown Number: You’ve been a very naughty girl, Miss Jamieson. Are you holding out on me? Trade a secret for a secret. What’s going on between you and Snare King?

Unknown Number: By the way, save this number. And I suggest you spill fast before I find out for myself. Something tells me, Redwood Prep isn’t ready for its first Snare Queen.