My Robotic Boyfriend

66

Ethan

It wouldn't be the first time I got called into the principals office. It had happened a thousand times and usually, I wouldn't be nervous, because I knew exactly what I was being called in for.

Now, I'm nervous, simply because I don't know what I'm being called in for? I can't even think of any possible reason for the principal wanting to see me. I didn't hurt anyone, and I didn't cause any trouble. These last few days, I've been under the radar, seeing as I purposely did not want to get into trouble; mainly for two reasons: One was Ivy and the other, Glory.

I didn't want to stress Ivy up with my recklessness, and give her a good reason to leave me. She had no idea about the dark part of my past, and I was willing to keep it that way. It wasn't the world I wanted her to get involved in, the Inc alone was enough, I couldn't bring my past along with it.

And as for Glory, I promised to stay out of trouble if she let Ivy go, and she did, but Ivy didn't leave... That doesn't taint the end of my bargain, I still had to keep that promise.

So, why the hell does the principal want to see me? What happened?

I pushed open the door to the principals office, my eyes zoning in on Malcolm and Ramson, the principal. They had been arguing about something before I walked in, obviously interrupting them.

Ramson glared up at me.

"Leave us Ramson, I'll ask him myself." Malcolm let out, his tone harsh.

I blinked, looking over at the deep frown resting on Ramson's brows. "But I-"

"I'll handle this." Malcolm stated, his eyes speaking words to Ramson, words I could interpret as: Leave, for your own good. 

Ramson groaned, walking round his table, before brushing past me, purposely hitting my shoulder with his... I barely moved.

When the door closed, leaving a loud bang after him, my eyes moved back to Malcolm. "What was that all about?"

There was this frown on Malcolms' face, a frown that told me he didn't come here to make small talk.

He gestured his head to the brown envelope laying on the table. "Open it."

I raised a brow at him. "What the hell is this all about?"

"Open the damn envelope, Ethan." He gritted out.

I sighed, picking up the envelope and opening it. I sneaked a glance at his passive stare, before pulling out the photographs inside.

My heart literally stopped.

I raised my eyes to Malcolms' expecting gaze. "What the fuck is this?" I asked.

"Right, shall we skip the part where you deny that you don't know how that happened."

Confused, I looked back at the photographs. The first was of a boy, his left wrist cut off, an open gash to his chest. The second also had no left wrist, his face bruised so badly, his eyes wide open in death, the third had no wrist also, but was completely naked, several gashes on his skin, like someone had stabbed him multiple times. I only recognized one of them... Tom, he was the one with a bruised face.

I swallowed, looking up at Malcolms' judging eyes. "You have to believe me, I have nothing to do with this."

Malcolm snatched the pictures from me, slamming them against the table. "Are you fucking kidding me Ethan? You're lying to me? Me?"

"Am I supposed to take the blame for something I didn't do? I didn't kill these guys-- I- this wasn't me Malcolm, I'm done with that life."

Malcolm crossed his arms against his chest, stern eyes glaring into mine. "You didn't do this, but your boys did, which automatically means you."