The Teacher of Nothing Read Online K. Webster

Categories Genre: Forbidden, Insta-Love, Romance, Taboo, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
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For how long?

The bitterness rears its ugly head as I sit on the toilet, wrapped in a towel, while Mom brushes out my tangles. She’s been clouded by her pills for so long, I’m not sure I can fully believe she’ll make good on her promises to keep me safe.

What choice do I have, though?

I don’t have anywhere to go. No job or money. No friends. No boyfriend. Just Mom. I have to trust she’ll keep her word to fix this mess.

“I love you so much, baby girl,” she whispers as she leads me back to my bed. “Just rest.”

After she tucks me in, panic rises in my chest, but then she lies down in bed with me, hugging me tight.

I’m safe.

For now.

I wake to the sound of whispered voices. It’s dark in my room aside from the light from the bathroom. There are people in my room.

Levi?

“Mom,” I whimper.

“I’m right here,” Mom says, sitting on the bed behind me. “Gemma’s here to pick up the things she left. It’s just the three of us.”

I can feel Gemma’s stare on me, but I can’t look at her. Not when she reminds me of Callum. Plus, I don’t want to see her pity. She doesn’t know her brother broke up with me and I doubt Mom divulged what happened with Levi. All Gemma will see is a pitiful girl who finally made friends with the cool people and went to jail, and now her life is falling apart. I must seem pathetic.

“Call me later?” Gemma whispers, touching my foot. “Your mom said you’ve caught a bug. Just let me know you’re alive.”

I manage a nod, but no words come out of me. Gemma squeezes my foot and then releases it, not saying anything else. Mom disappears for a few minutes and then returns. The savory scent of chicken noodle soup fills my nostrils and my stomach growls.

“Time to eat,” Mom says gently. “Let Momma take care of you.”

As much as I want to scream, “It’s about time!”, I don’t. I sit up, ignore the anger brewing inside me at my mother for years of neglect, and allow her to take care of me.

I may be mad at her and hurt by her actions, but she’ll always be my mother.

And right now, I really, really need my mom.

Callum

What’s the point of a heart anyway?

To pump blood? Big fucking deal. My blood can turn to sludge for all I care as long as I don’t have to feel this soul-deep ache in my chest. It’s never-ending. Completely maddening. All those years of hardening myself against pain like this were a waste. I shattered the protective layer around me and let another wicked girl poison me.

Willa, why?

I want to grab her by her delicate shoulders and shake her until she gives me an explanation that makes sense. I’d thought she was perfect—different—and yet I was so completely wrong.

Alcohol seems like a good way to drown my sorrows, but that would require moving. I haven’t left the sofa all day. I’ve sat in silence, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what it is about me that says: I’m a chump, so fuck me over, please.

Beep-beep-beep-beep.

A groan rattles in my chest. Whoever is walking into my house like they fucking own it is not welcome. I’m pissed at half my family right now, so this meeting won’t fare well.

“Callum?” a deep voice calls out. “I’ve been texting you all damn day. What the hell, man?”

Heavy footsteps thud into the living room, revealing Hugo’s tall form. He’s wearing a suit as though he’s been at the office on a Saturday. Sometimes he’s so much like Dad, I can hardly look at him. Right now, though, it’s how much he resembles his son that has my blood boiling.

“Get out,” I snap.

Both of his brows rise in surprise at my sharp tone.

“Hangover?” he asks, ignoring my demand for him to leave. He settles into an armchair and sprawls out. “You usually only act this bitchy when your head is pounding.”

“What do you want?” I scrub my palm over my face, noting the dark hair along my cheeks has grown in rougher from not having shaved today. “I’m not in the mood for chitchat.”

He snorts. “I’m not here to chitchat. I’m here to discuss the bratty twins and my reckless son.” A huff escapes him. “I appreciate you bailing them out last night. Spencer is grounded forever. It’s still a shit storm because of where the party was, but at least we don’t have three more Parks to add to the buzz.”

“There’s buzz?”

“If you’d stop ignoring my texts,” Hugo complains, “you’d know this already.”

Guilt trickles through my veins. I’d wanted to break up their fun, not get Hugo and his campaign involved. “I’m sorry.”

He studies me intently, blue eyes narrowed and piercing. It’s no wonder he’s a good attorney. He doesn’t miss much.



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