Chapter 5

Anne turned, came back and stood in front of him. Her expression had softened somewhat, but there was still a hard look in her eyes. "Did you ever fuck her?" she asked.

"No."

"Did you ever try?" Adam hesitated. "Tell me," she hissed.

"I-I suggested once that I'd like to take her to bed."

"And what did she say to that?"

"She said that she thought it best to save our sex life until after we're married."

Anne laughed gratingly. "Oh, what fools some women are." She regarded him for a moment in silence. "What's this virgin's name."

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it matters. What's her name?"

"Betty Walker, and she's one of the nicest persons I've ever known."

"You won't know how nice she is until you've screwed her a couple of times. Men never know." Another pause. "And you're planning on marrying her?"

"We're supposed to be engaged."

"I didn't ask you that. Are you planning on marrying her?"

"Anne, for God's sake! Haven't I told you enough?"

"No." She turned, walked over to the table and sat down. "Why don't you mix us a drink, darling?"

"Of course." Glad of the respite, however brief, Adam crossed to the sink and took down a bottle of Scotch from the cupboard above it. He opened the refrigerator door, pulled out a tray of ice cubes, and returned to the sink. He upended the tray and let water run on it until the cubes began to drop out.

Anne said, "Don't stall, Adam. This is something you'll have to face sooner or later, and it might as well be now."

When Adam turned away from the sink with the two drinks in his hand, he saw that she had loosened two more buttons of her blouse. All but the nipples of her breasts were revealed.

Adam began to feel a stirring in the region of his crotch. He sat down quickly before Anne could see what was happening to him.

Anne giggled. "Too late, Adam. I saw." She suddenly smiled warmly. "I'm only glad that I can arouse you so easily." She picked up her glass. "Drink up, darling. This is going to be a night you'll long remember."

Adam took a long swallow and set down his glass. "Anne, do we have to talk anymore?"

"What would you rather do?"

"You know what I'd rather do."

"Say it. I want to hear you say it."

"I want to fuck you."

Anne smiled, leaned across the table and kissed him. "You're sweet." She settled back in her chair. "You'll have all the fucking you can handle before the night's over. Right now there are a few things that have to be settled."

Adam waited, knowing what was coming. His eyes held a tortured look.

Anne said, "Would you like to have me answer the question for you?"

"What question?"

"Oh, shit! You know what question. Are you planning on marrying this Betty person?" Adam opened his mouth, but Anne went on, "Never mind. I'll answer it for you. You're not going to marry Betty Walker, and I'll tell you why. You're going to marry me."

Adam took another drink. His insides were turning over and over. He avoided her eyes.

"Look at me," Anne demanded. Adam looked at her, his expression haunted. "Get that dumb stupid look out of your eyes. Tell me you love me."

Adam licked his lips. God in heaven, he did love her. He wanted her, needed her. She owned his body and his soul. "I do love you, Anne. I never knew it could be possible for a man to love a woman so much."

"More than you loved Betty Walker?"

He nodded.

"Say it."

"I love you more than I ever loved Betty Walker."

Smiling triumphantly, Anne came around the table and sat in his lap. He fondled her while they kissed long and passionately. At last she pulled away. She picked up his glass and handed it to him. "Keep your hand occupied with that for a few minutes longer, darling. It will only take a minute or two to make my little speech. Then-" She broke off, laughing meaningfully.

Anne reached over, picked up her own glass and swallowed half its contents. "Adam, I'm not the tramp you must think me to be."

"I never-"

"Hush." She kissed him lightly. "Let me finish. I've slept with a number of men, darling. Quite a few in fact. But I've never slept with the same one twice."

"Oh?"

"You were the first, dearest. Shall I tell you why?"

Adam nodded. He had begun to tremble. Unreasonably, a fiery wave of jealousy was sweeping through. The mere thought of her offering her body to another man made him almost physically ill.

"Please try and understand, darling. I'm actually quite a practical person. Some time ago I realized that it would be foolish to marry a man with, whom I wasn't sexually compatible. Sexually incompatible marriages don't last long. Well, I found my man, and I was determined to satisfy him sexually and be as exciting when satisfying him as I possibly could."

"Am I the man?" Adam asked hoarsely.

She kissed him. "You know you are, darling. You gave me complete fulfillment, as I gave it to you."

"And there'll never be another man in your life."

"Never. I promise."

Adam tossed off the rest of his drink. He stood up, holding her in his arms. "I think, young lady, that we have a good deal to prove to each other on this night of nights."

She giggled and buried her face in his neck. She loosened the remaining buttons on her blouse. "Take me to bed, my handsome lover, and I'll give you all the proof that you want. Or do you want me to prove it here?"

On impulse, Adam said, "Here." He sat back down in his chair.

Smiling, her eyes partially glazed, Anne arranged herself in the proper position.

Every member of the faculty at Mekins Academy was assigned a small group of students for whom they acted as advisors. Their duties consisted largely of admonishing them to write home, discussing their grades, and finding answers to any problems that might arise.

On this morning Adam found a student, a member of the junior class waiting outside his office door. Adam recognized him at once. His name was Lafe Bryant, and he was the most disliked boy at the academy. Overly big for his age, he was a bully and an all-around stinker. He participated in none of the school's sports and few of the social functions. His parents were fabulously wealthy. They indulged their son, an only child, to an extreme, providing him with an expensive sports car and an allowance that was altogether too large for the boy's good.

Adam tried and succeeded in forcing a thin smile. "Hello, Lafe. Something on your mind?"

"Yeah. I want to talk to you."

"Okay. But when you talk, remember to put a 'sir' on your statements."

"Yes, sir."

"And don't make a fool of yourself by overdoing it."

The boy grinned and remained silent. Adam unlocked his office and led the way inside. He nodded to a chair on the opposite of his desk and sat down, brushing aside a stack of mail.

"Okay. What's the problem?"

"Sir, I'm in a jam."

"What kind of a jam?"

"I've got a chick knocked up."

Adam controlled himself with an effort. "A town girl, I assume."

"Sir, that's a rather silly statement, isn't it? This isn't a coed school, so it would have to be a town girl. Unless," the boy added with a smirk, "you suspect me of screwing some of the female members of the faculty."

Adam's hand banged down on the desk. "That'll be enough of that kind of talk, young man. Try to not be such a smart ass. You're not talking to one of your cronies who hang around simply because you have a larger allowance than they."

"Sorry, sir. I guess that was uncalled for."

"Okay. Now what makes you so sure you're the father of the child?"

"Because I'm the only one who's been screwing her."

"You're sure of that?"

"Sure I'm sure. That chick wouldn't even look at another guy."

"You sound pretty confident. How many times have you--er--had intercourse with her?"

"Oh, we ball every chance we get. I've banged her maybe fifty times."

"And you took no precautions?"

"She ran out of pills, but she wanted it just the same. So I gave it to her."

"You couldn't restrain yourself?"

"Sir, put yourself in my place. Suppose you were banging a broad regularly-and I'm sure you have, being a grown man-no offense meant-and you were in the hay with her and she was throwing it up at you, would you have restrained yourself?"

Momentarily, Adam evaded the boy's bold stare. The kid was hitting close to home and it gave him a sinking sensation. "Never mind what I would have done. The fact remains that you have a town girl in trouble. Okay, what's her name?"

Lafe gave Adam an oblique look. "Nancy Poole."

"Who?" Adam came forward in his chair, a shocked look on his face. Nancy Poole was the daughter of Robert Poole and Robert Poole was the most important man in town. He was president of the bank, senior member of the city council, active in all social and business organizations. But most important, he was chairman of the board of directors of Mekins Academy, had personally donated funds for the construction of a new gymnasium.

"You fool!" Adam barked. "You utter damn fool!"

"That does make it a bit sticky, doesn't it, sir?" Lafe commented on the circumstances.

"It sure as hell does. Where's Nancy now?"

"She's in the hospital."

"Is she having an abortion?"

"No, sir. I hope she's having a miscarriage. She was unconscious when I brought her in."

"When you brought her in. What happened to her?"

"Well, sir, I beat her up."

"You what?"

"It's like this, sir. I'd been told that if a girl were only a month or two along, she'd come around if she were in an accident, or if she were beaten up. So I beat her up, and then drove her to the hospital. I told the doc I'd found her lying along side the road in that condition."

"And what weapon did you use to perform this heroic deed."

"A baseball bat."

The boy's voice was flat, matter-of-fact, entirely devoid of any remorse.

Adam's senses swam. A feeling of nearly uncontrollable fury raced through his body. He half rose from his chair. "You unspeakable little bastard, I'll-"

"Easy, coach." There was stark fear in the boy's eyes, but he held his ground. "You know what will happen to you if you lay a hand on me."

Adam knew. There was a state law. If a teacher struck a student, no matter the provocation, not only would he lose his job, but his credentials would be revoked.

For a moment Adam remained in his crouched position, his eyes blazing. Gradually he got control of himself and sank back into his chair.

"Bryant, you're worthless scum. And a fool. What do you think is going to happen when Nancy returns to consciousness? She'll tell them what you did to her."

The boy shook his head. "No she won't. She was at home alone looking at television. I was wearing a mask. I came up behind her. She never knew what or who hit her. I carried her out to the road, planning to leave her there."

"But you didn't."

"No. She seemed pretty badly bruised, so I brought her to the hospital. I wasn't lying when I told them I'd found her lying beside the road."

"Big deal. You're a hero. What if she doesn't return to consciousness? What if she dies?"

Bryant smirked. "That's where you come in, sir."

"Me?"

"Well, if I had to have an excuse for that night, I thought I'd say I was at your cottage. I'd gone there to ask for help in my homework. All you'd have to do is say that I was there-unless, of course, you had company."

Adam's insides went cold. So that was it.

The little sonofabitch knew about Anne. He'd probably followed her to his cottage. Or, more--likely, he'd come to the cottage after delivering Nancy to the hospital. He'd heard voices and listened, drawing his own conclusions.

Slowly, deliberately, Adam got out of his chair and stepped around the desk. He reached out, seized a handful of the boy's shirtfront and jerked him to his feet. Bryant cringed, his eyes terror stricken.

"You'd better not hit me, coach. Remember the law."

"To hell with the law, you miserable little prick. This is going to be worth it."

Adam struck the boy stingingly across the mouth with his open palm. Blood appeared. Bryant cringed. Tears filled his eyes.

"Don't hit me again. Please! I won't tell."

"Tell what, you cowardly little bastard? Stand up and take it like a man. I'm not wearing a mask and I'm not carrying a club."

With his free hand, Adam drove his fist into the boy's stomach. Bryant's breath went out of him with a swishing sound. He doubled up. Adam let go his shirt front and delivered a hard right to the kid's jaw. Bryant let out a bleat and dropped to the floor.

Adam came and stood over him. "Get your breath back, sonny. I'm not through with you yet."

The boy looked up at his tormentor, his eyes stricken with fear.

"Don't, coach. Please! You can't hit a man when he's down."

"A man, no. You're not a man. You're a stinking louse. However, I'll put my instincts aside for the moment and obey the rules."

He reached down and jerked the cowering boy to his feet. Slamming him up against the wall, holding him there with his left hand, Adam proceeded to pummel the boy's face. He let loose with all the pent-up fury that was raging within him. Blood spurted from the youth's nose. One eyes swelled shut. An ear rang from a blow to the side of the head.

Satisfied at last, Adam released his grip. Bryant sank to the floor, unconscious. Adam stood looking down at him for a moment, rubbing his knuckles. He hadn't meant to kill the kid. Or had he? The little bastard deserved no better fate? After a while, Adam crossed to the water cooler, filled a cup and returned to pour its contents onto the boy's face. The youth sputtered and opened his eyes. Adam dragged him to his feet.

"Get out of here, you little punk prick. Run to Dean Hodgkiss and tell him what happened to you and who did it. Then tell him why I did it. If you don't, I will. And if Nancy Poole dies, I'll see to it that you spend the rest of your days in a jail cell."

Adam loosened his grip and Bryant fell to his knees. Whimpering, Bryant crawled to the door, reached up, took hold of the knob and pulled himself erect. He looked back at Adam.

"My father will take care of you. He's rich and he's powerful. It'll be you who'll spend some time in a jail cell."

Adam took a threatening step forward. "Get out, you miserable little bastard, or I'll work you over again. And this time I won't be so easy on you."

Bryant fled.