Walking The Line | ✓

Chapter Twenty-seven

"You!" A shrill voice froze me on the spot and I watched with no less shock as Larisa Johnson stood from the uncomfortable chairs at the hospital's waiting room and stomped---yes, stomped---her 5 inch heels in my direction.

I didn't need to do a sweep of the place to know she was addressing me, I could almost see my reflection in the flames coming right out of her eyes.

For a scant second I chastised myself for not having thought about this encounter beforehand. In my defense I'd had more important things in mind.

Like the school's social worker calling to notify me that my freshman student had been admitted at the hospital for assault.

The German had heard enough of my end of the conversation that, when I'd finally hung up with Diana, hands shaking, he was already standing in front of me, car keys in hand.

"I'll drive you."

It wouldn't be until much later that I'd think back on it, a warm mushy feeling taking over my body, how he'd been able to read me so easily without me having to spell the actual words.

At that moment I only managed a terse nod before rushing inside the bedroom for a change of clothes.

Keep it together Van.

One breath in.

One breath out.

"I can't believe you have the gall to show up here." Larissa continued her outburst, forgetting on her rage to keep her voice low.

We were inside a hospital not in a football field for Christ sakes!

I felt the wall of warmth at my back and knew the German had moved in as soon as he noticed the hellion angling for my throat. Why she had developed such a strong aversion against my person I'd yet to find out.

Not that she had ever treated me with civility. I guess it was asking too much for her to change her ways. One would have thought the current situation would have opened her eyes, but no.

Larisa must have also noticed the man behind me, the side of my hip and butt bumping into him as he stepped forward, because her step faltered.

Yes. You read that right.

Her gaze went over my shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him, her head tilting sideways---for a scant second I thought she'd recognize him---but then she turned the force of her gaze on me.

The German's body tensed and I reached out behind me to lay a hand on his incredibly muscular thigh. I didn't need to turn around to know the expression taking over his face. I couldn't blame him though, If someone talked to him like that in front of me I'd probably go all Regina George on their ass.

However, I didn't need to add more fuel to the fire and I knew from experience that's what Julian's mother would do if we gave her ammo.

Not cowed in the slightest by the tall, tense man taking my back, she opened her mouth again to spread more venom. "You've done enough. We certainly don't need you."

I could feel my eyes widening as an incredulous expression took over my face.

I'd done enough?

I'd done enough!?

What the freaking living hell had I done but show concern for her son's wellbeing?

It was certainly more than what she had done, which was ignore everything I'd tried to tell her.

"Isn't a broken arm and a concussion enough for you? Or do you relish the idea of feeding your young students heads with violent behavior?"

What the hell was she talking about? Violent behavior? What the hell!?