Shattered Poetry (Broken Lives #2) Page 3

  How could I have allowed this to happen?

  I wasn’t a child who didn’t understand consequences. I knew damn well having sex with Dante would lead to bad things. The ephemeral moments of pleasure were always going to be tainted with the bitter aftertaste of fear and guilt. He was the sweet taste of honey before the bee stung, the apple from Eden—so delicious, yet morally wrong. Like Eve, I’d tasted the forbidden fruit, but instead of taking one bite, I’d gorged myself on Dante, savouring his delicious flavour, until I had guilt smeared across my face and mind, something I could never wash off.

  Wiping my eyes, I slumped down in my chair and stared at the bin where he’d dumped the tissue-wrapped condom. It had been emptied out by the cleaner, my seedy indiscretion disposed of. But I couldn’t dwell on it, or allow it to wind me up until I was a blubbering mess like the day before, especially since my husband was only hours away from arriving home. I exhaled a shaky breath, not looking forward to Markus’s return, which was terrible considering I hadn’t seen him for a month.

  I looked down at my wedding ring, twisting the gold band on my finger. I’d missed Markus at first, but of late, my mind had been so consumed with Dante I’d hardly thought about him. It was a horrible thing to think, even worse since I’d known Markus for four years, while I’d only met Dante a little under two months ago. I just had to pray that Dante would stick to his word about keeping our affair a secret, and if he didn’t, I would deny everything he said, because he couldn’t prove—

  My hand flew to my mouth, remembering he’d taken my knickers, my stupidity beyond belief.

  The sound of someone entering the classroom ripped my attention away from my panic-filled mind. I pushed up and opened my office door a fraction. Careful not to make a sound, I peeked through the crack, praying it wasn’t Dante. Facing him alone was too risky, my nerves frayed to the point of unravelling.

  To my relief, it wasn’t him. Lindy McNee headed for my classroom desk. The gangly-looking emo girl, with dyed-black hair and a litany of piercings, placed a rose on the table top, along with a small wrapped box. A few seconds later, she was gone, the door banging in her hurry to leave.

  I pushed through my office door, and picked up the present. I opened the tiny card attached to it, reading what she’d written:

  You’re the greatest teacher there ever was. Love from a secret admirer.

  I stared at her words, surprised by them. I knew the girl fancied females, but it didn’t occur to me that she would like me in that way. Then again, she was always offering to help me with this and that, as well as complimenting my clothes, even though my style was nothing like hers. It now made sense, but I guessed I’d been so wrapped up with my thoughts about Dante that I hadn’t seen the signs of her crush, too consumed with my own one. And it was a crush. What I felt for Dante was nothing more than an unhealthy infatuation, something I needed to get over. I was an adult, not a silly schoolgirl with nothing better to do than moon over a good-looking boy.

  I opened Lindy’s present, finding a beautiful necklace inside. I fingered the heart-shaped pendant, wondering how on earth Lindy could afford such an expensive piece of jewellery. Though, I couldn’t tell whether a diamond was real or not, which meant it was probably fake. Regardless, I still liked the necklace. I just didn’t like receiving it, especially from a child.

  Someone the same age as Dante.

  I forced the thought out of my head, knowing it would lead me down an emotional road I couldn’t deal with right now. I returned my attention to Lindy’s gift, deliberating over whether I should give it back, afraid of hurting her feelings. Still, Lindy probably didn’t expect me to return her feelings considering I was married...

  ...and had a lover.

  But she didn’t know the last part.

  And no one would.

  The classroom door opened, almost causing me to drop the necklace. Dante walked in with Phelia, looking like he’d thrown on his school uniform in the dark. Not only was his grey shirt badly wrinkled, a couple of his buttons were undone, one even pushed through the wrong hole. He hesitated when he saw me, then slung an arm around Phelia’s shoulder and sauntered over, looking like he was using the girl to make me jealous.

  His dark gaze dropped to the necklace in my hand. “Who gave you that?” he asked, his tone almost accusing.

  “A secret admirer.” Needing to push him further away, I slipped the necklace around my neck, faltering at his wounded expression. Then it was wiped clean from his face, making me question whether I’d imagined it.

  “Don’t know who would like you,” he grunted. “You’re a bitch.” He turned his back on me, directing Phelia to his desk.

  I clenched my hands, wanting to tell him off, but held back, knowing it would only exacerbate things. I also deserved the comment, because I was a bitch for what I’d done. I’d had sex with him without any consideration for his feelings, not even contemplating that my actions could hurt him. I’d been so caught up in the moment, my thoughts solely focused on my own pleasure.

  Dante settled into his chair, tugging Phelia onto his lap. The Maori girl put her arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss, causing a spark of jealousy to flicker inside of me, which quickly flared into a full-blown fire as she pushed her tongue into Dante’s mouth. I willed myself not to march over and yank her off his lap, especially since I had no claim over him. I just had to remind myself that Dante was using her to get back at me. Despite Phelia being what the boys called ‘hot’, with voluptuous curves and a sultry face, Dante didn’t like her very much. He usually deflected her advances, rather than encouraged them. And even though he was kissing her back now, it was stilted and awkward, the opposite of how he’d kissed me. I knew what his hungry kisses tasted like, could also imagine what they looked like too, and there was no passion behind what he was doing with Phelia. Regardless, the girl took full advantage of Dante’s compliance, yet again making me want to yank her off him.

  “None of that in my class,” I finally snapped, unable to restrain myself a second longer.

  Phelia went to pull away. Dante clamped a hand behind her head and continued kissing her, flicking a finger at me while he did it.

  “Dante!”

  He finally broke the kiss. “What’s wrong, miss?” He gave me a nasty smile. “Are you jealous you’re not gettin’ any?”

  I dug my nails into my palms, willing my voice to come out steady and calm, the opposite of what I was feeling inside. “Stop trying to goad me. You know you’re not allowed to do that in class.”

  “It’s not like I’m having sex with her on my desk.”

  I tensed, knowing his words were a direct dig at what we’d done. “It doesn’t matter; you still can’t kiss in class.”

  He grimaced. “It matters to me.”

  “I understand that,” I said, aware his reply wasn’t about the kissing. I just wished I could make him understand how sorry I was, but I couldn’t do that in front of Phelia. “Please just stick to the school rules—”

  “Fuck the rules,” he spat, glaring at me.

  “If you continue this way, Dante, it’s best you leave. I don’t want you disrupting the class when they get here.”

  “I have a fuckin’ right to be ’ere as much as they do.”

  “Just not a right to misbehave, so watch your language.”

  He pretended to zip his mouth, although his dark eyes were full of defiance.

  My attention shifted to Phelia. “Please move to your own seat.”

  Exhaling loudly, she got off Dante and slumped into the chair next to him.

  “No, your seat, not Jasper’s,” I said, referring to Dante’s best friend.

  “But I wanna sit next to Dante.”

  “And I want you to do as you’re told.”

  “You’re acting childish,” Dante piped up.

  My gaze shot back to him. “That’s rich coming from you.”

  He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, causing his shir
t to pull tightly across his toned biceps. The same arms that had picked me up so easily the day before, placing me on my desk, holding me as he’d fucked me. I blinked, trying to shake the image, but couldn’t, what he’d done permanently etched on my mind.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “Maybe I’m acting like a child cos I am one.” He sneered at me. “What’s your excuse?”

  I started massaging my right temple, my headache getting worse. I was dreading the coming lesson, his antagonistic behaviour already making me wish I’d stayed home. Regardless, he had a point, because I was acting childishly towards Phelia, allowing my jealousy to dictate how I was treating her. I also had no right to be jealous. No right whatsoever.

  “Fine,” I forced out. “Just keep your opinions to yourself and I’ll allow Phelia to stay there.”

  He went to open his mouth, the boy never letting up, always having to have the last word.

  I held up a hand, cutting him off. “End of discussion.” I turned away from him, choosing to ignore his follow-up insult. Instead, I picked up the box the necklace had come in and walked around my desk, sitting down behind it. I opened one of the drawers and slid the box inside, glancing up as I closed it. Dante was still glaring at me, but a hundred times worse. In that moment, it looked like he wanted to physically hurt me, the tension coming off him in waves.

  Phelia placed a hand on his arm. “Are you all right, Dante?”

  “Yeah, I’m great,” he muttered, sounding anything but. He took hold of her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingers while looking at me. Again, I forced myself to stay calm, wishing this didn’t hurt so much.

  The door banged, accompanied by Jasper’s loud voice, Dante’s best friend hooting that he had a new game. Despite being sixteen, Jasper was over six foot, had a five o’clock shadow, and weighed a ton. If anything, he looked older than me, his appearance contradicting the XXL school uniform he was wearing.

  Dante quickly let go of Phelia’s hand and turned to face the window. His best friend froze, the monster of a boy going from happy to upset within seconds. Jasper’s crush on Phelia was no doubt behind it, jealousy filling the room like a toxic gas.

  Kicking into gear, Jasper stalked down the aisle, yanking Phelia out of his chair. She let out a loud yelp and swore at him. Ignoring her complaint, he pulled her onto his lap and whispered something into her ear. She instantly went quiet, nodding in reply to whatever Jasper had said. She went to lean towards Dante, looking like she was going to ask him something, but yelped again as Jasper wrapped his arms around her. He snuggled his face into her neck, kissing it. She jerked her head away, complaining when he pulled it back to kiss her neck again.

  “Jasper, let go of Phelia,” I said, noticing that Dante was ignoring what his friend was doing. He continued to stare out the window, proving he’d been using Phelia to make me jealous, Jasper’s appearance ruining the effect.

  Not listening, Jasper continued kissing Phelia’s neck, well on his way to giving her a nasty hickey.

  “Jasper!” I barked.

  He pulled back and gave me a glare.

  “Please let go of Phelia,” I said, unable to hold his gaze, the boy scary at times. And it wasn’t just because of his intimidating stare. He had a gang patch on his bag—a reminder of where I was.

  In gangland territory.

  Only the other day, a student and his mother had been shot down in their home, Wera nothing like my quiet suburb on the east side.

  “Please, Jasper,” I said, glancing at the door as more students entered the class, the school bell piercing the air. “Work with me here.”

  A smile prickled at his lips again. He pushed Phelia towards Dante, the girl smiling again as she climbed onto his lap.

  “Phelia,” I said, beyond frustrated with this game of musical chairs, Dante obviously the prize she wanted to unwrap. “Get off Dante or take a blue slip for detention.”

  She went to move, but Dante grabbed her, not allowing her to leave.

  “Let her go, Dante.”

  “Fuck you!”

  The other students went silent, some of them even freezing partway to their desks, his tone utterly vicious.

  “What did you say?” I barked, damn well knowing, but too furious not to snap back.

  He sneered at me. “I said, how are you, Mrs. Hatton?” he replied, putting emphasis on my title.

  “No, you didn’t,” I growled, knowing I was skating on thin ice with him, but unable to stop myself. “Everyone heard what you said.”

  He looked at Phelia. “What did I say?”

  “How are you, Mrs. Hatton,” she giggled.

  He turned his attention to Jasper. “What did I say?”

  Jasper grinned wide. “How are you, Mrs. Hatton.”

  Dante’s dark stare returned to me. “I think you better get your ears checked out, miss. I hear old people should get it done regularly. You might need a hearing aid like my grandfather wears.”

  Some of the class burst out laughing.

  “Be quiet!” I hollered.

  Dante placed a finger in his ear and wriggled it about. “Sheesh, I know you can’t hear well, but we can, so go easy on our young ears.”

  “I’ve had enough of your lip, Dante,” I snapped, my patience with him only extending so far. “I think you should leave.”

  “Why? I did nuthin’ wrong. You’re the one who’s losing your shit.”

  I pointed at the door. “Get out!”

  “Whatever. I don’t wanna be here anyway.”

  He pushed Phelia off his lap and grabbed his bag, squeezing out behind Jasper. Hooking his bag over a shoulder, he sauntered between the desks, throwing a nasty glare at me as he walked past. He reached for the door, jerking back as it burst open without warning. The principal stepped inside the room. He was an impressive-looking Samoan man in his forties, with ice-chocolate coloured skin and a classy pinstriped suit. Two police officers, one female, one male, followed him in. Principal Sao’s gaze moved from Dante to me, then back again, causing my heart to stutter, fear gripping it tight.

  He knew what I’d done.

  Dante had obviously talked, getting back at me for pushing him away.

  “This is Dante Rata,” Principal Sao said to the police officers. “The boy you’re after.”

  I blinked in surprise. They weren’t here for me! Relief flooded my body, making me sag against the desk. Dante was constantly getting into hot water; like the time he was arrested for stealing hubcaps. But he always found a way out of trouble, nothing ever sticking to him, the boy like Teflon.

  Dante lifted his chin up in open defiance at the officers. “I’ve done nuthin’ wrong.” Although he sounded Maori, he looked European, his tanned, olive skin lighter than his best friend’s dusky complexion.

  The male officer stepped forward. Dressed in police blues, he was a tall man, with short brown hair and a prominent scar under his chin. “We believe you have information that may help us with the—”

  Dante cut him off, “I’ve already told you lot I couldn’t identify the robber.”

  “This isn’t about who attacked you.”

  “Then, what do ya want?”

  “It’s best we talk about this at the police station.” The officer reached for Dante’s arm.

  Dante took a quick step back. “I know my rights. Unless you’re arresting me, I don’t hafta go anywhere with you.”

  The officer followed him. “Dante Rata, where were you between the hours of two and four-thirty p.m. on Wednesday the...”

  Dante’s eyes widened as the police officer continued, the realisation the man was referring to the double homicide abundantly clear. “I didn’t kill Happy Meal and his mum!” he yelled, using the murdered teenager’s nickname.

  The policeman didn’t react, his face impassive. “Please answer the question.”

  “I wuz at school!”

  “Your maths teacher said you missed the second half of your last lesson.”

  “Cos she kicked m
e outta class, but I wuz still at school.”

  “Do you have anyone who can verify this?”

  “Why the fuck should I? I didn’t do it.”

  “Dante,” the principal snapped. “Answer without swearing.”

  “Like hell! They’re tryna pin two murders on me,” he said, looking panicked. “And I wuz at school. I had detention after maths.” His panicked gaze shot my way, a silent plea for me to back him up. “Mrs. Hatton took it.”

  The policeman turned his attention to me. “Is this true?”

  I nodded.

  “What time did Dante arrive and leave?”

  “He was in detention from three-thirty to just past four-forty.”

  “The victims were killed prior to that.” Stepping forward, the policeman started reading Dante his rights.

  Dante took a step back, yelling, “I didn’t do it!”

  The next second, a crash came from the back of the room, Jasper having pushed his chair over. He came hurtling down the aisle, looking like he was going to attack the officer.

  Dante shot in front of him, holding his hands out. “Back off!”

  Jasper waved an arm at the policeman. “He—”

  “—will take me to the station, then let me go, cos I didn’t do it, so back the fuck off.”

  Jasper’s wild gaze remained on the policeman standing a step away from Dante, his chest heaving like a wounded bull.

  “You attack him, you go back to juvie,” Dante said.

  Jasper’s nostrils flared, looking like he was fighting an internal battle.

  “Please, Jaz,” Dante said, using a name I hadn’t heard him call his friend. “Don’t do this. I’ll be fine. I promise I’ll be back in no time.”

  With a pained expression, Jasper nodded and backed up.

  Dante turned to the policeman and held out his arms. The man removed cuffs and clicked them onto Dante’s wrists, finishing reading him his rights. Phelia started sobbing loudly, the murdered boy her ex.

  Dante turned his head towards me instead of Phelia. “I didn’t do it,” he said, looking like he was desperate for me to believe him.

  The policeman placed a hand on his back, telling Dante to move forward. They exited the room, along with the principal and the other officer, leaving behind a classful of shocked students, only Phelia’s sobs breaking the silence. I opened my mouth, then closed it, not knowing what to say to them, or to even think. I couldn’t process what had just happened, everything surreal. I’d been arguing with Dante one moment, then trying to give him an alibi the next. The scared look on his face as he’d looked at me filled my mind, making me want to run after the officers, telling them that Dante couldn’t have possibly done it.