Teach Me

12

It has been an exceptionally long time since I've written a part for this story, partially from being locked out of my account for 4 years, and because I've changed so much from the girl who began this story 6 years ago. I've been internally struggling with the idea of scraping the story and starting from scratch, but I think I owe it to myself, and my viewers to continue what I started. So, below is the newest part of this story. Enjoy.

You saved me? It was a rhetorical question. I knew the answer. Mr. Shaw, by the grace of God, arrived just in time. My memories are still blurred, but I remember the most important aspect; he was there. "Where is he? Is he still you know ali-"

"Yes, Julia. He's alive." I could hear the distaste in his voice. He sat up fully and positioned himself to sit across from me on the other end of the bed. Some distance is good. I needed it, despite how much my body wanted to be engulfed by him.

I took this time to look around the room and began to piece together the life he must live outside the classroom. His walls were dark, contrasting the ivory silk sheets. No paintings, pictures, or anything of sentimental value. It looked as if he had never spent any actual time here. I'm falling farther into my thoughts, wondering how long he's lived here. Is he from here? I don't know anything about him. I've fucked him, he's saved me, and now I'm in his bed without even knowing his middle name...most importantly, he's my teacher.

"I have to go, I'm sure my roommates will wonder where I am." That's a lie. I don't know them, and they certainly don't care who or where I am. He shifted uncomfortably and stood up. I watched the way his muscles flex when he moved.

"Let me drive you home" his voice was caring but stern. I could tell this wasn't up for debate. I stand up quickly, grabbing my shoes and purse, and followed him from the room. The rest of the house was just as beautiful. It was modern and sleek, just as I pictured. Fancy couches, counters that seemed to go on forever, and void of any evidence someone was living here. He led me out the front, down the concrete steps to a black car.

The drive was silent and as soon had he parked outside my dorm, I opened the door, not wanting to converse.

"I'm glad your safe..." he trailed off. I looked up at him and saw the regret on his face. "I trusted him and I'm sorry. I just keep thinking back wondering how I missed it."

"I can't see how he would have given you the impression he wanted to rape me. It's not your fault. There's no way you could have known." His apology was surprising, but what was even more surprising was how he meant what he said.

I leaned in and cupped his head in my hand, which he leaned his head into. I never thought a man could be like this. Meaningful, caring, and... vulnerable. I mean, I knew they could, but I never thought I'd experience it.

Surprising us both, I pulled his face towards me and kissed him. Not sexually, but passionately. I wanted to show him I forgave him and appreciated what he did in the only way I knew how. I pulled away from him and smiled.

"I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, I get out and head towards my room. I could feel him watching me until I was fully inside. I was putting my key in when the sudden realization hit. How did he know where I lived?

—————-
I made excuses all night on how he knew where I lived. He's a teacher, he prob had access to my records. But why would he want to know? I barely slept so when I finally got to English, I was tired beyond belief but excited to see him.

I caught myself losing focus of the sounds of his voice, solely focusing on the way his body moved expertly across the room. He was reading a chapter of the textbook, not giving much thought to the talking going on around him. He genuinely enjoyed this; teaching English. I can see the passion on his face when anyone posed a question or a unique stance on the subject. He felt pride in seeing his students succeed and gain valuable information.

We briefly made eye contact and he smiled. I blushed instantly and looked down. Today I had decided to sit closer, feeling a little better being near him. The fresh scars on his knuckles were more prominent than I had seen last night.

"That's all for today, guys. I need to head out for some things and I won't be back for a few days. The class next week is canceled." A few whispers and 'hell yeah's' could be heard throughout the class as people began gathering their things.

"Your papers are still due on the 20th in class. I'm expecting them to be of higher quality than normal as I am giving you an extra weekend to work on them. Class dismissed." Students began packing and heading to the door where I got a peak outside of the horrors that awaited us... cops.

I felt even more stuck than a few seconds ago. My breathing picked up and I looked at him. He said his goodbyes to a few stragglers and spoke with the cops outside briefly, closing the door when he finished. I couldn't wrap my head around this. Do they want him? Me? Or is it just a coincidence that'd they'd be here only a few days after Mr. Shaw beat that Caleb guy to a pulp. I mean it's ridiculous to believe that he reports Mr. Shaw when he was possibly trying to kill me.

"Julia." His sweet voice spoke merely a few from me. He put his hand out, and as I put mine in his, he pulled me swiftly to my feet. My bag fell over slightly but my focus is trained on his earthy eyes. I can't help but feel overwhelmed. "Baby don't cry."

"Why are they here?" My voice sounding panicked. I couldn't keep my composure. I was scared. Not for myself, but for him.

"They're here to talk to me. They want to ask me a few questions about what happened the other night. I'm going to be okay, I have a wonderful lawyer and I'm well versed in my legal rights." He said, kissing my hand.

"Let me stay with you. I had the same amount of involvement as you. Please" I practically begged. He shook his head and began to speak but I interrupted. "On second thought, I don't care what you want, I'm speaking to them and that's that." I moved past him and began to walk to the door.

In one quick moved he grabbed my arm, spun me around, pulled my body into his, and chuckled lightly; our faces a few millimeters apart.

"Don't speak to me like that." He kissed me lightly, testing my self-control. "I don't think the cops would think too fondly of me bending you over my desk and fucking you mercilessly." Goosebumps ran all through my body as I felt my panties dampen. I've never been so turned on in my life. The idea of the cops pounding on the door just as hard as he was into me almost brought me to the edge. But the fear kept me from indulging in the fantasy.

A knock at the door caused us to step apart quickly to avoid being caught. He smiled at me and walked down the small steps to open the door. I straightened out my hair and followed close behind.

He pulled open the door and two officers stepped in, the young one in uniform and the other in a worn-out suit. A detective? I looked up at them and they motioned for us to sit.

"I'm Detective Gilbert, you can call me Gil. This is our department's finest uniform, Officer Rich." Officer Rich looks at both of us, his facial expressions never faltering.

"Professor, we only have a few questions that we have to ask as a formality. All staff and faculty are being questioned, along with students." He motioned for us to take a seat. "Normally we'd interview apart but since I'm trying to get home for dinner on time, I'll just have you both here."

We took a seat next to each other, leaving a chair in between in hopes to show that we weren't more than student and teacher. The gentlemen sat in the seats in front of us and positioned themselves so that is facing us directly.

"Do either of you know a Mrs. Green? Or rather Jacqueline Green?" In the corner of my eye, I saw Shaw stiffen. I looked back at the detective a tacked my brain for where I've heard that name before. Was she in my classes? Did she live in the dorm? Had I seen her at the library?

Suddenly the name hit me like a bus. I knew where I heard it. Why would Shaw know? Why would he be affected by the name?

It was the girl from the newspaper. The missing one.