Kane's Hell

I cleared my throat and pursed my lips. “You can’t flirt the answers out of me.”


He smirked, but he didn’t respond right away. He finally took a deep breath, and he sighed. There was a sudden and odd seriousness to his disposition. “I know,” he finally said. “Doesn’t mean it’s not fun to try.” He glanced away for a moment, clearing his throat, but when he looked back, his expression was easy again. “Remember when we were kids, and your parents still lived in that big old farmhouse out by my place?” He took another step toward me.

Of course I remembered. He was the only kid for miles around, and that made him my first and only friend at that time. “Yes,” I said.

“Do you remember how I used to get you to do things I wanted you to do?” he asked, getting closer and closer to me by the second.

“No.” My brow furrowed as I tried to figure out where he was going with this, but even as the gears turned in my head, my body flushed with that same electric warmth I always felt when he was so close to me.

He stepped right in front of me, just marginally too close to be appropriate. “I … tickled you,” he finished in a rush as he reached for my sides, his fingers grazing me gently and quickly along my ribcage.

I instantly fell apart, giggling, laughing, tightening all the muscles in my groin to keep myself from peeing. He leaned into me, my legs parted around his hips. As his fingers slowed and his touch softened, my cheeks burned. His face was so close to mine as he pressed forward, and I glanced down between us before I could stop myself. He was hard. I wasn’t even sure what that would look like were he unclothed, but I knew the concept well enough thanks to Health class. He was aroused.

His nostrils flared, and he leaned marginally closer to my mouth. God, he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. He studied my eyes, and I could see the tension in his neck when he swallowed. But as the moment drew out painfully long, his brow flinched, and he eventually pulled back quickly as he inhaled a sharp gasp.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He stared at me, and his eyes drifted down to my lips for a moment. “I—”

The bells suddenly jangled out on the door as someone walked in, but Kane didn’t pull his eyes from me right away. His focus shifted to the ground, and he shook his head before he turned and walked toward his own counter.

“Hey,” he said as he nodded to the stranger who’d just walked in.





Chapter Two



Helene



“Here you go, Ms. Hess. That should be the final version—at least for the moment.”

“Thanks,” I said distractedly as I stared at my cell phone in my hand. When I glanced up and took the sheet of paper from the woman behind the desk, she smiled at me. “Oh, and it’s just Helene,” I added as I returned her smile.

“Very well, Helene. Glad to have you back this semester.”

“Thanks,” I said, again struggling to concentrate on anything but the phone in my hand.

I stumbled out of Schiavo Hall where the administrative offices of Penn State Hazleton were housed and headed toward the Evelyn Graham Academic Center, ignoring the feet that passed me on the sidewalk as my heels clicked against the concrete. I stared down at my hand, scrolling through email after email. When my phone rang, I jumped.

“This is Helene,” my voiced rushed out even as my finger still brushed across the screen.

“Hello, Helene. This is Ava from the University of Pennsylvania. I have Doctor Briggs on the line. Do you have a moment to speak with her?”

“Yes, yes. Of course,” I said hastily, still walking briskly and blindly toward the Academic Center.

“Helene,” came Dr. Briggs always serene and graceful voice. “I’m so glad I finally reached you.”

“Yes, I am too.” My voice was bordering on shrill. “Thank you for calling me back—”

“I’m not going to waste any time. If you want to go justice, then go justice. It’s been done to death, and it can be seen as cliché and safe. As your dissertation director, it’s my job to be frank, and that’s as frank as it gets. That said, I truly think if someone can pull some perspective out of this topic, it’s you. I want you to stick with your instincts on this. I really do.”

I fought against the sudden loss of wind from my sails for a moment. “Okay,” I said, my tone mildly deflated. Done to death, cliché, safe? None of those were inspiring words.

“I just sent you some suggestions on your thesis that I think you’ll find very useful. When you have a moment, review them and then get back in touch with me. I know you’ve already done a fair amount of work on this, but I will caution you, you need a narrow direction. Justice is broad, and a broad scope dissertation can kill your chances with the committee. You’re an advanced doctoral student, Helene. That comes with high expectations.”

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