A week afterward I was back on campus, a little delicate because of the not completely healed tear. The university had been surprisingly willing to accommodate me, letting me make up missed work, granting deadline extensions and providing counseling I hadn't wanted to use.
What I needed wasn't therapy.
The police had investigated the sinister car and note for nothing. No fingerprints, no DNA and no cameras captured the vehicle. Whoever was doing this, they were professional. Careful. And watching.
"You're sure about this?" " Ella asked as we made our way towards the Psychology building. "You could give yourself another week off."
"I need normalcy." I shifted my bag, wince to myself. "Besides, I can't hide forever."
"You're not hiding. You're recovering from being shot."
"Same difference."
Truth was, I needed to see Daniel. Since my release we'd only been able to text and call, because of the university investigation we had to be careful about being seen together. But without him I was going bonkers.
His office hours were at two. My intention had been to be there at 2:01.
My morning classes were a blur, professors looking at me with pity or suspicion, students who whispered as I walked by. The shooting was local news already. It did not take long for everyone to know my story, or an approximation of it.
I bowed my head and took notes on things I'd never read.
Finally, it was 1:55 PM.
As excitedly as one can with a racing heart, I headed to the psychology building. Seven days without Daniel was like seven years. I wanted to touch him, kiss him, feel that we were real.
The hall outside his office was deserted. Good. I knocked softly.
"Come in," his voice called.
I opened the door and froze.
Daniel wasn't alone.
A woman in the chair across from his desk- could be late twenties, and she was absolutely beautiful long black hair that cascaded into perfect waves down her back and olive skin with sharp, smart eyes. She had a burgundy dress that fit her like it cost a million bucks, and when she turned to smile at me, the smile was friendly but appraising.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, quickly. "I didn't know you had a,"
"Brooklyn." Daniel rose, and the gratitude in his eyes was sincere. "No, it's fine. Come in. I've got somebody I'd like to introduce you to."
The woman rose, her perfectly manicured hand outstretched. "You must be Brooklyn Miller. I've heard so much about you. I'm Dr. Isabella Carter."
Ice water is also a name that struck me. Carter. Like Detective Carter?
"Any relation to Detective Carter?" I asked, shaking her hand. Her grip was firm, confident.
"My cousin, actually." Her smile widened. "Small world, isn't it? He told me everything you've been through. Absolutely harrowing. You're incredibly brave."
Something about how she said it sounded wrong, but I couldn't place why.
"Dr. Carter is new to the psych department," Daniel said. "She's going to be teaching Advanced Behavioral Psychology and assisting with some of my research."
"Terrific!" I said, matching her friendly tone. "Welcome to Westfield."
"Thank you. Daniel's been amazing helping me get to know the ropes, introducing me to my new colleagues." She just looked at him so warmly, and it made my stomach clench. I can understand why students rave about him. He's very... dedicated."
The pause before "dedicated" seemed very deliberate.
"Brooklyn, I wanted to discuss the ethics hearing for next week," Daniel blabbed on, in apparent disregard of any embarrassment or ill will I was harboring. "Dr. Carter does have some experience with academic conduct boards. She has offered to help prep us for defense."
"You made her aware of the court date?" I attempted to take the edge out of my voice.
"Just the essentials," Isabella said smoothly. "And not just because I want to help. What you two have been through the manipulation, the conspiracy, it's very obvious this was not your ordinary student-teacher relationship. The board is going to have to put that into context."
She was saying everything right. So why did my skin crawl?
"That's nice of you," I choked out.
"It's the least I can do. "Daniel and I are going to be spending a lot of time together, and I want to ensure that his reputation remains unassail-able." She checked her elegant watch. "Oh, by-the-way I guess you two need to talk. "I'll send you those articles we were talking about. Daniel Brooklyn, it's been great to know you."
She gathered up her designer bag and clacked down the hallway.
As soon as the door shut, I looked at Daniel. "Who is she?"
"I told you new professor. She just started this week."
"And you're already teamed up in a very close way? Doing research? Helping with our hearing?"
Daniel frowned. "Brooklyn, what's wrong? She's being helpful."
"Something about her feels off."
"You only just met her for thirty seconds."
"Call it intuition." I folded my arms across my chest, wishing I hadn't because a stab of pain tingled through my side. "Did you check her background? Her credentials? What if she's connected to."
"To what? The mysterious serpent conspiracy?" It was Daniel, his voice quiet but worried. "Brook, I know you're scared. No one could be blamed for being paranoid after all that. But not everyone is trying to get us."
There was a woman who was my stepmother and hated me. Excuse me for being cautious."
He walked around the desk and drew me into a wary hug. "I know. I'm sorry. But Isabella's qualifications are strong a PhD from Stanford, papers published, excellent references. Detective Carter personally vouched for her."
That should have been reassuring. Detective Carter had saved us. But something still felt wrong.
"Just... watch your back around her," I whispered.
"Always." Tilting up my chin, he kissed me gently. "I've missed you. So much."
"I've missed you too." I melted into his chest, accepting the comfort he was offering and allowing it to push consequences of Isabella's harsh goodbye out of my mind.
There we stayed, for a timeless moment; just holding each other.
"How's your side?" he asked, gently avoiding to touch the wound with his hand.
"Better. Still sore, but healing." I looked up at him. "Where do you stand on the admin leave?
His jaw tightened. "Honestly? I'm going crazy. No teaching, not being able to see you properly, waiting for the ethics board to rule on us."
"We'll get through it."
"Will we?" His eyes were troubled. "Brooklyn, this is really what I need you to understand. I will lose my job if the board rules against me. Maybe my career. And I'm fine with that, I would pick you over any career, but I need you to understand what we're putting on the line here."
"I understand." I cupped his face. "And I'm still choosing you."
He kissed me again, more deeply now, and I felt the heat rise between us. His hands moved to my waist, just around the injury area, and he hauled me up against him.
"No we shouldn't," he whispered on my lips but pressed the kiss further. "Anyone could walk in."
"I don't care." I balled my hands up in his shirt. "I need you, Daniel. I need to feel anything other than fear."
His control filled with hesitation. I could see it in his eyes, feel it in the restricting of his hands on my waist.
"Brooklyn!"
We jumped apart as there was a knock on the door.
"Professor Anderson?" Isabella's voice. "Sorry, I forgot my phone."
Daniel cursed to himself as he adjusted his shirt. "Come in."
Isabella pulled the door a little harder than necessary, saw both our faces were flushed and all of the space we'd been able to put between us. Her smile was knowing, even sympathetic.
"Sorry to cut in," she said, retrieving her phone from beneath the chair. "You two are cute, by the way. Young love, it's beautiful to see."
There was something about the way she said it that made the statement almost mocking, even if her face still looked warm.
When she let out a second time, the moment was spoiled.
"I need to leave," I added, and reached for my bag. "I do have work to be doing, anyway."
"Brook."
"It's fine. Really." I kissed his cheek. "I'll text you later."
I left before he could see the tears that were about to flow.
That night, I could not concentrate on my studies. Isabella's face kept popping into my head that appraising expression, that brilliant smile, the "working closely together" thing.
I was being paranoid. I knew I was.
But I could not rid myself of the feeling.
My phone buzzed about ten PM. Text from an unknown number.
Unknown: I caught sight of you in Daniel's office today. The wound healing nicely? You should be more careful. The next time, they may not miss and hit the proper organs.
My hands shook. I immediately called Daniel.
"I'm being threatened by someone again," I told him when he picked up. "A text. On the shooting, on being at your workplace."
"Forward it to Detective Carter. Right now."
"I will, but Daniel, how did they know I was in your office? We were alone. The only one who knew was."
"Don't say Isabella," he interrupted me. "Brooklyn, she's not this."
"How do you know?"
"Because I vetted her completely when she got the job. The department did background checks. She had received recommendations even from Officer Carter himself. She's clean."
"Then who sent this text?"
Silence.
"I don't know," he eventually acknowledged. "But I'm coming over. Right now. You shouldn't be alone."
"The university said no contact."
"I don't give a damn what the university said. Someone's threatening you. I'm coming."
He didn't let me argue and he hung up.
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door of Ella's apartment. I peered through the peephole Daniel, with a concerned but determined expression.
I opened the door for him, and into his arms I fell at once.
"This will never end, will it?" I whispered. "The next series will be even worse than the last," he said, "because there's always going to be another threat, another conspiracy, another."
"Hey." He dropped back, forcing me to look at him. "We beat your stepmother. We survived the warehouse. We'll survive this too."
"I'm tired of surviving. I want to live."
"Then we live." He kissed my forehead. "We go to that hearing, we get our names cleared and we live. Together."
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to think it could be clear cut.
But my phone buzzed again. Another text.
Unknown: How sweet. Professor Anderson hurrying to your rescue. He's so predictable. Does he know about your hospital visits, Brooklyn? The ones to see Jayce? Or is that a secret?
My blood ran cold.
"What?" Daniel asked, seeing my expression. "What does it say?"
I showed him the phone.
"Jayce?" His voice was carefully neutral. "You've been visiting Jayce?"
"Once," I said quickly. "Just once, to thank him for saving us. He's still healing up from the gundeck."
"You didn't tell me."
"Because it wasn't important! Daniel, he almost got himself killed because of us. I just wanted to,"
"I'm not angry." But his voice was tight. "I just wish you'd told me."
"There was nothing to tell. It was five minutes, we spoke, I left." I grabbed his hand. "You're the one I love. You know that."
He nodded, but something went out of his expression. Doubt, maybe. Or hurt.
Before I could push further, my phone rang. Detective Carter.
Miss Miller, I received your text forwards. So I am taking this deadly serious." His voice was grim. "Fuck that, I'm putting a protective detail on you starting tomorrow."
"Is that necessary?"
"Somebody knows where you are, your whereabouts, specifics about your life. Yes, it's necessary." He paused. "And Brooklyn? Be careful who you trust. Even good people might still have an agenda."
"What does that mean?"
"Just... be careful."
He hung up.
I glanced at Daniel, and saw the same fear mirrored in his eyes.
"This is just the start, isn't it?" I whispered. "Whatever this is, the snake code, the threats, the whole thing. We took down one conspiracy, but there's something larger."
"Then we face it together."