Hurting To Feel (Carpool Dolls) (27 page)

"Check
yourself." Gary pushed Nathan back until he collapsed on the edge of the
bed. "Fuck, man. You about killed your brother."

Donny?
He turned his gaze toward the door, found Donny on his feet, bent at the waist,
coughing. He stiffened as it all came back.

Professor.
Addison. Together. He stood and bellowed, "Out."

Gary
and Nug took Donny with them. He waited until he heard the front door slam
shut, and pressed his eyes closed with his hands. God, he almost killed Donny.

As
suddenly as that thought entered his mind, Addison's betrayal took over. He
staggered around the room, seeing it for the first time.

The
silk panties.

Her
perfume.

The
unmade bed.

Her
dress hanging on the closet door.

She'd
shown him a part of her life, but kept her secrets to herself. Did she know
about his relationship with Professor Frank before meeting him? Before he'd
shared that part of himself?

Of
course she did. She'd admitted to watching the documentary of his life. He
clenched his teeth together. The one where he showed the public what they wanted
to see of the boy who never would've amounted to anything, but with the help of
his mentor, succeeded.

He
doubled over, out of breath. How could Professor do this to him?

Was
Addison a test? He played the last conversation he had with Professor Frank in
his head. He'd spoken Addison's name. Professor questioned him, and he'd given
her full name, not that there were very many women with the first name Addison.

Fuck.

The
door swung open and Addison hurried into the room. He curled his hands and
straightened.

She
swung her gaze from him to the dresser to the closet to the other side of the
bedroom. He spotted the second she realized her game was up and he knew the
truth. She closed her eyes and shrank right in front of him.

"I
was going to tell—"

"Right,"
he said.

"Nathan,
I was. I realized when I got to work what I was doing last night when you came to
the house." She held her hands up beside her and shook her head.
"Then when you volunteered to move my things, I was so happy with how
things turned out between us, I forgot."

"You
forgot?"

She
inhaled deeply. "Yeah."

"You
forgot to let me in on how you're Professor Frank's latest bitch and you've
been playing me for a fool? You both decided…what? This wouldn't bother me?"
He crossed his arms, simmering in his anger.

"What?"
She moved forward and stopped in front of him. "Professor Frank? Your
friend?"

"Step
away from me," he said. His voice barely controlled.

"Honey…"
She placed her hand on his stomach. "What's going—?"

"Step
away," he hissed.

She
jumped back. "You're scaring me."

"If
I were you, I'd be scared." He stepped around her and picked up one of the
photos.

There
was no denying that the woman in the picture was Addison. The same mole on the
side of her cheek, the same color of hair, and the same build as the other
woman. His stomach knotted to a painful level and he wanted to beat her to the
same degree of what he was feeling.

Not
trusting himself to be within an arm length of her, he held the picture out in
front of him.

"Deny
that you're not enjoying the strap that's putting marks on your thighs,"
he said. When she wasn't fast in answering, he yelled, "Tell me."

She
shook her head. "It's not me."

"Bull
shit." He flicked the proof at her, letting his arm swing.

"Nathan,
it's not me." She picked up a few of the pictures and held them up.
"It's my mother. I opened the box that contained the things she had in her
safety deposit box on Wednesday night when you brought me home. I—she flailed
her hands—I don't know. I was looking for answers."

He
frowned, not believing a word she said. That was Professor Frank and the woman
looked exactly like Addison.

"You'd
let me go, and I needed to connect with something. I'd lost you, and felt like
I had no one in the world. I had nothing in common with my mother. I
guess...I'd hoped somehow I'd find something that would show me why I'm
impossible for someone to love. Why everyone who should love me doesn't. Why
you couldn't keep me…"

"So,
you went to Professor Frank and he showed you what real love is all
about." He shook his head. "Three fucking days, Addison. You want me
to believe you cared about me, and yet you go to the one person I trusted right
after we split up? All you had to do was wait three days, but you couldn't even
do that."

"Nathan!
It's not me." She marched to her nightstand, opened the drawer, and
hurried back to him carrying a picture frame. "Look. This is my mother and
me. It's my high school graduation, so it's a long time ago, but look at her
and then look at me in the picture."

He
carried the frame to the window, and with his back toward her, he studied the
photo. Bile rose in this throat, and he swallowed.

Addison,
looking younger than he could imagine, stood with her hands clasped in front of
her, staring at the camera. The smile on her face belied the tension he noticed
in her eyes, because she focused too hard for the person taking the photo. Dull
and lifeless, Addison was missing the joy and optimism he expected to see on
her graduation day. He studied the other woman.

A
spitting imagine of Addison, but older. His lungs depleted of air and he
blinked to focus. On her right cheek—he flicked his gaze back to Addison—Jesus,
they had the same mole. Not a small, unnoticeable mark, but what women referred
to as a beauty mark, one that enhanced their looks instead of hindered.

Addison
laid her hand on his back. He reached behind him and pulled her to his front,
crushing her against his chest. The amount of relief over learning she was
telling him the truth and it wasn't her with Professor Frank weakened his knees
and knocked him speechless.

He
was wrong. Addison was only his. She'd only be his in this lifetime if he had
anything to say about it, and he did.

"It
isn't me," she whispered.

He
nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He'd jumped to conclusions when the two
most important people in his life, the two people he'd do anything for, had the
ability to ruin him.

She
tilted her chin up and looked at him. "Are you telling me that your friend
is the man with my mother?"

He
blew out his breath. "Yeah."

She
pulled away, and he hooked her neck bringing her back to him. His world had
done a three-hundred-and-sixty degree turn when he'd discovered the pictures.
He wasn't ready to let her go yet.

"I
don't understand." She held on to him tighter. "From what I can find
out, those pictures were taken before I was born. Why would my mother be with
Professor Frank and not my father?"

Good
question. Although, he had a suspicion that Addison's mother might've hired out
to satisfy her submissive cravings or even been a part of the people who hung
around Professor Frank. Obviously, Curt Stewart was kept in the dark of his
lovers habits. He sighed.

"I'll
go talk to Professor Frank," he said.

A
tremor swept through Addison. He peered down at her. She'd lost all color in
her complexion.

"Are
you okay?" he asked.

She
shook her head. "I can't…God, my mother. What we do is between us, and I
know no one else would understand our relationship, but it makes me sick to
think of my mother at the hands of your friend."

He
tilted her chin. "Listen to me. We don't know what went on between them,
but you know it's possible to have feelings for someone who dominates you. Your
mother might've enjoyed a submissive lifestyle. Professor is just like
me—"

"God,
don't say that. He's nothing like you. What he was doing was evil and
sick." She pushed away from him. "He's nothing like you."

"We'll
talk more about this later. Right now, I'm going to have the guys come back
inside and finish packing away your things. I want you home with me." He
picked up the pictures. "Is there anything else around here that you don't
want anyone else to see?"

She
shook her head. "I'll put them back in the box and put it all in the
car."

"Okay."
He kissed her. "Don't worry. We'll wait to figure out everything after I
visit with Professor Frank."

"Wait."
She tugged him closer. "Are you okay?"

"No,
but I will be," he muttered. "Don't give up on me."

"You
were angry," she whispered, ducking her chin.

"You're
mine." He stroked her head. "I won't let anything come between
us."

She
nodded and backed away. "I took the rest of the day off, so I'll go to
your house after I grab a few things."

"I'll
talk to you there then," he said.

He
stepped out of the room and leaned against the wall. His legs still shook from
the discovery. He hated to see Addison in pain, but he knew that if her mother
was involved with Professor Frank, she was there voluntarily.

He
pushed off the wall. Once he had answers, everything could go back to normal
and Addison could put her past behind her. And, hopefully his friendship with
Professor Frank wouldn't be compromised by his support of Addison.

Chapter
Thirty-One

If
Nathan hadn't been studying Professor Frank closely, he would've missed the
slight hesitation in his step upon spotting him.

Nathan
had waited two hours, standing in the enclave by the front door, for Professor
Frank's classes to let out. He bided his time going over how he'd bring up the
subject of Addison's mother without losing his cool.

Things
were still tender between him and Addy. He didn't want to bring more tension
into her life.

"Nathan."
Professor stopped on the step. "I wasn't expecting you, but I'm glad to
see you."

He
stepped forward. "Do you have time to talk…privately?"

Professor
lowered his chin. "Absolutely. Come inside."

Nathan
followed him into the house, waited while Professor grabbed a water bottle out
of the refrigerator, and then passed him the drink. "Sit. Tell me what's
going on. You usually come around in the night. Can I hope that someone else is
keeping you busy and you escaped work to visit with an old friend?"

The
photo of Addison's mom and Professor Frank burned in his pocket. He'd filched
the picture without Addison even seeing, because he wanted proof when he came
to confront Professor. His relationship with Professor was built on honesty and
truth, something he'd had drilled into him as a child by the man himself. The
thought that the hard-earned bond they'd built through the years was put on the
table between them and the outcome capable of devastating him kept him quiet.

"Something's
bothering you," Professor Frank said.

He
nodded, leaning forward and bracing himself on his knees. "I need to know what
your connection is to Addison Flint's mother."

Professor
finished taking a drink and lowered the bottle. "The woman you're involved
with…"

"Yes."
His arms tensed.

"I've
never talked to you about the women I've been involved with for a reason. It's
none of your business." He shook his head. "If you're asking if I own
a woman, I can tell you I haven't owned anyone for the last four years. You know
that. Nothing has changed."

Since
the lifestyle Professor lived put him in jeopardy while teaching, he knew
Professor went off campus to seek women for sex. He'd taught Nathan how to keep
his private life separate from his professional life and as far as anyone knew,
Professor Frank walked the straight and narrow while teaching since getting in
trouble years ago for being caught on campus, while being a teacher. The school
frowned on teachers influencing the students.

"You
would've known the woman at least twenty seven years ago." Nathan stood,
prepared to push for the truth.

Professor
leaned back and crossed his legs. "I see. Is there a reason why you're
questioning me about my past or why I should divulge information that has
nothing to do with you?"

Nathan
ran his hand over his jaw. "Because I need answers."

"We
all need answers…"

He
stared at Professor Frank in disappointment. Often he'd lapse into asking him
questions in an attempt to draw Nathan out of his comfort zone. Professor had
taken the time to teach him when others had failed on why he was the man he was
today. Right now though, his avoidance of answering pissed him off.

He
pulled out the photo and tossed it on the coffee table. "What is your
relationship to Carly Flint?"

Professor
Frank refused to look at the picture and instead, gazed at Nathan for more
beats than he had patience for. He fisted his hands, pleading with him silently
to be honest.