Edward Hamilton’s law office is filled with leather chairs and polished mahogany furniture. His receptionist greets me with a smile and offers coffee or tea.
“No, thank you.”
“All right, follow me, please. Mr. Hamilton is waiting for you.”
My teeth clench as I follow her into the room, the window overlooking the lake, the huge desk where Hamilton is sitting in his leather chair. He’s on the phone, and he gestures the receptionist out of the room as his gaze meets mine.
“I’ll call you back,” he says into the receiver before dropping it back onto the cradle.
Hostility thickens the air. He points to a chair.
I set my briefcase down and remain standing. “I want you to leave my wife alone.”
He eyes me narrowly, closing his hand around a pencil and tapping it on the desk. “I’m sure you do.”
“She has nothing to do with this.”
“Stafford thinks she does,” Hamilton replies. “We have evidence that you were involved with a student in the past. A student whom you seduced and later married.”
My fists clench. Anger heats my insides.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“You know what I want,” he says, pushing to stand up. “You fucked with my daughter, and I want you gone. She can’t get anything done with you still at King’s, and there’s no way she can graduate with you there. If the board doesn’t fire you, I’ll beat you to a pulp myself.”
Every muscle in my body tenses for a fight. I need one excuse, one goddamned opening…
Hamilton looks down at some papers on his desk.
“Your wife had a nervous breakdown, didn’t she?” he asks. “Lost her merit scholarship at… Fieldbrook College in the first year. What exactly happened? Reports are that she dropped out for personal reasons, but there’s a record that a psychologist had to—”
“You fucker.”
I leap across the desk before I can think. Grab Hamilton by the throat and bring us both crashing to the floor behind the desk. My fist connects with his face. He grunts. I hit him again. My vision goes red.
“Mr. Hamilton!” The receptionist’s voice penetrates my anger.
I land two more punches on Hamilton and pull back for a third when two security guards grab my arms and yank me off him.
I fight them, my blood replaced with rage, hating the restraint. Don’t stop me, you bastards. Let me kill him. The guards are shouting. One of them wrestles me away. Hamilton climbs to his feet, wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth.
“Mr. Hamilton?” The receptionist hurries forward. “Are you all right?”
I push myself away from the guards, holding my hands up. My breath burns my chest. I stalk to the other side of the room.
“You want us to throw him out, sir?” one of the guards asks.
Hamilton heaves in a breath, his gaze cold on me as he shakes his head. “No.”
“But, Mr. Hamilton, you—”
“Never mind, Mary.” Hamilton waves a hand to the door. “Go away.”
With a worried glance at me, Mary hurries from the room again. The guards hesitate before Hamilton snaps at them to get out.
“We’ll be right outside,” one of them says. They leave the room and shut the door behind them.
I clench my jaw. My shoulders are about to crack.
“How far do you want to take this, West?” Hamilton grabs a glass of water from his desk and takes a swallow. “You want me to charge you with assault and battery? Take it to court? Have it all dragged out in front of the board of trustees and student body? You know they’ll call your wife in to testify.”
Fear stabs through my anger. I shove aside thoughts of Liv.
Hamilton and I stare each other down like wolves looking for another opening to attack. Hatred seizes me as I walk back to him, my fists tight, my voice like stone.
“You leave my wife alone,” I order. “You leave her the fuck alone. I hear that you’re asking one goddamned thing about her, that you’ve tried to contact her, that you’ve said her name, and you’re dead. I will fucking kill you, Hamilton.”
“We can end this all right now,” he replies with a shrug. “It’s up to you.”
I fight back a new wave of rage, grab my briefcase, and walk to the door. Outside, I drag in a few breaths of cold air.
I get a taxi and go to a computer services store where I can hook my laptop to a printer. I power up the laptop and open a document.
Don’t think. Just type.
Dear Chancellor Radcliffe, Professor Hunter, and members of the Board of Trustees,
I am writing to resign from my position as professor of Medieval Studies at King’s University, effective immediately.
Given the circumstances that have affected me both personally and professionally, it is in my best interest, as well as that of King’s University and my students, that I leave the position.
I have greatly enjoyed teaching at King’s and regret this course of action tremendously. I will do whatever is necessary to facilitate the transition for my students.
Please accept both my resignation and my heartfelt gratitude.
Sincerely,
Dean West
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Dean