Chapter 3: Won’t Back Down

Our open conflict had the class sitting on the edge of their seats. After his earlier intimidation speech, they couldn't believe it. I could see the whites of their eyes as they glanced back and forth at us. My boldness had their attention.

I think I even saw one student smile. Not that I needed the encouragement, but it certainly didn't hurt. My passion was ignited. The room was still again, but with intense focus on us.

A few feet shuffled against the ground but the tension was almost palpable. They were probably wondering how I could dare to maintain eye contact with a man so cold. Little did they know who he really was.

"Hm," Justin remarked, without even lifting a brow. He appeared unmoved, as he dropped his hands, dusting them off. "You're far too naive to be a qualified lawyer."

He pivoted and returned to the podium dismissing me. Though my heart was pounding and he stepped on my dream, I refused to believe him. In fact, I felt somewhat relieved that our little tiff was over. I was here to stay and if that's all he had to say to me, I felt lucky.

As discreetly as possible, I exhaled in relief. I didn't want to see what the other students thought or felt. I'm sure several of them thought he was amazing. And they'd wonder why he had singled me out like that.

He didn’t focus on me again after that, and began to instruct as if nothing happened. While the class droned on, I took copious notes, making sure that even though I hated this man, I'd use him to gain the knowledge I needed to reach my goals. He wasn't going to stop me from being a lawyer.

When it was time to conclude, he tapped his pen on the podium and pulled out our thick law book. Flipping through the pages, he lifted it up on display.

"I trust you all have purchased this from the bookstore? You can get a physical copy or electronic. If not, you should do that immediately," he paused scanning the room with a smirk on his face. "Make sure to read pages ten through one hundred in the assigned book, then write a term paper on Augustinianism."

"B-By when, sir?" one daring student ventured. He pinned his eyes on her.

"Next week."

"That soon?! A term paper requires at least ten sources and is twenty pages long," she retorted, but that was a mistake. He kept his eyes on her without speaking another word. That one prolonged stare made her purse her lips and remain silent. He'd shut her down easily as she bowed her head.

My heart was pounding for her. There was no need to assign this amount of work in the first week. He was doing it on purpose to test us, and apparently to prove that some of us were not worthy to be here. Clicking my tongue, I wasn't worried. I was no quitter.

But I couldn't lie to myself and say this would be a cakewalk. It would be hard as hell. But that has been my life so far. And he was a part of that too.

After class was over, students crowded Justin, circling him like sharks around fresh chum. I was in awe that they found that little presentation to be something worth fawning over.

It was difficult to make sense of why people idolized men who were so dark sometimes. He was just a blatant ass to everyone, insulting them and trying to scare them but they thought he was amazing.

Still, I valued the attention they were giving him for atypical reasons. Their excited voices competed as they huddled closer, hoping to hear some more nuggets of wisdom. As such, I took advantage of him being distracted and began my escape.

Quickly, I packed my laptop into my bag, whipping the flap shut, and snapping the golden magnetic button in place. I hoisted the strap over my shoulder hurriedly, and began to dash out the door.

Despite the mob of students seeking his “oh so wonderful” counsel, he somehow found a way to break free, because the next thing I knew, he was blocking my way out the door.

His abrupt stop made my brown hair fly forward as I halted, planting my feet. I blew my bangs out of my face, feeling my cheeks flushing. Angling my eyebrows, I said, "What do you want, Justin? I need to go."

"Katerina, I need to speak with you," he said, "Follow me to my office."

My heart sank, but I was conditioned to listen to him. Though I wanted to refuse, I knew I had no choice. His voice didn't waver and he was my guardian after all.

Stifling a sigh of annoyance, I filed in behind him as he walked down the hall, his dress shoes tapping on the tiles. I watched his feet with each stride, long and confident as his shoes pressed to the floor. They were shiny, reflecting the evenly placed fluorescent hallway lights as we traveled past them. It was almost militant, the way he dressed.

Every detail was tended to, probably to keep up his appearances. He was evil so inside, he might as well put on the best disguise possible. But I wasn't fooled. That perfectly matching suit and tie didn't blind me.

He unlocked his office door and waved me in. Reluctantly, I entered, instantly noticing the smell of recently cleaned carpet. It was fragrant, but it didn't meld well with his foul nature. I pinched my sinuses, massaging them.

As he stepped closer, he motioned to the heavy, mahogany chair, padded with plush leather. He took his seat in front of me behind the desk. I allowed my laptop bag to slide onto the floor as I sank into the cushion. Holding my finger to my face, with my elbow on the arm of the chair, I stared at him.

"What have you brought me in here for?" I asked defiantly.

I wasn't going to like anything he said, and now that he was in front of me, he was sparking all sorts of old traumas that I couldn't ignore. He turned his head, meeting my eyes. Ice filled my veins as I awaited his inquisition.

"Katerina, why have you chosen to study law? You know you aren't suitable for this major. You'd better change it quickly. There are only two more weeks to do that before you have to withdraw completely. Then you risk not being able to get into the real courses that you need."

Dropping my mouth open, I narrowed my eyes at him and crossed my arms.

"I will not change my major," I said, hearing the insolence in my voice. Anger tingled in my chest as I scowled at his smug face. "How dare you try to tell me how to live my life? I've never asked you for a dime in all the time I've known you. You can't boss me around like I'm twelve anymore."

"Katerina, I only did this because your father, Derrick, treated me very well when he was alive. I have to fulfill my promise to him to be your guardian. That doesn't stop when you've grown up. It means I need to guide you. I owe it to him. Whatever other stupid decisions you have made have nothing to do with me," he said, twiddling his fingers. "But this does."

He turned, resting his forearms on the desk, staring at me like an animal. I parted my lips feeling my hot shaking breath escape my lungs. Clicking my tongue, I shook my head. I had to take a minute before I spoke; the lump in my throat made my voice hitch.

"Don't you dare mention my father's name again. I know what you did to him. And to Mom."

I pointed to him and then he turned to the side, and that's when it all came flooding back...

Glancing at my hands, I was twelve years old again, lying on my bed as my door burst open. I sat up in horror, seeing Mom's frantic grimace and wide eyes staring at me as she peered over my shoulder. I could feel the clutch of her fingers digging into my arms, as she forced me to my feet.

Backpedaling, I asked, "What's wrong, Mom? What are you doing to me?" Her fear infiltrated me and I was terrified. My mother was supposed to be superhuman in my twelve-year-old mind. If she was scared, I knew we were in real danger.

"Katerina, listen to me. No matter what happens, do not leave this closet. Promise me!"

With her shaking hands, her frantic darting eyes and shrill desperate voice couldn't be ignored.

"I promise!" I whispered.

I did as I was asked and stayed in the closet, even when I heard my father's agonizing moans. Through the slapping, kicking, and punches, I flinched as if I were feeling every strike myself.

Though I internally wrestled with myself, my heart racing, peering desperately out the slats of the closet, I never left. Even as tears spilled down my cheeks, I didn't stop watching through the slats. Whatever my parents’ last moments were, I wanted for them to see me, and for them to know I was safe.

Even though it was six years ago, I still remember seeing that ominous figure as the hallway lights cast their yellow luminosity upon him. And I was almost certain it was Justin. That cleft chin, his sharp nose, chiseled jaw, looming stature, jet black hair with gleaming, amber eyes.

Blood too, everywhere.

It was him who murdered my mother, her cries anguish to my young, innocent heart. I was forever scarred that day. Both of my parents died, and with them part of my heart too.

His profile was burned into my brain. It had to be him… or so I thought. When I called emergency services and the cops arrived, they told me Justin was miles away at a bar on the outskirts of town, almost in another state.

"That's impossible!" I had retorted but the police were adamant that it couldn't be Justin Lowell who committed the crime. I wanted to prove them wrong, but I didn't have the means. And Justin and I had been tied together lawfully ever since. which made even the smallest investigation by me impossible to hide.

For years, I questioned myself. Had my eyes played tricks on me? Was it true that eye-witness testimony was as false as I'd heard it was? I could have sworn that it was Justin in that hallway. Whenever I had called over the years, the police had no new leads, though. In fact, they designated my parents' case as a cold case several years ago.

Either way, it didn't matter who I suspected it was. Their murders needed to be solved. And six years ago, I vowed to prove everyone wrong by following this criminal justice path until I was able to reveal the true killer's identity. It didn't matter how long it took.

Lifting my eyes from the floor, I flicked them to him. Clenching my jaw, I glared.

"My parents’ murder needs to be solved. My education path is to follow in my father's footsteps and become a lawyer. Then, I'll find out who the real killer is, one way or another."

Glowering at Justin, my heart slammed against my ribs. There were so many reasons I wanted to slap him right then, but I couldn't do that. I would not resort to violence like he had. My path was to fight with him with words, using the letter of the law.

I'd make sure he would pay.

My anger held steadfast, not bowing down to his threat to make me change my major. When he realized I wasn't backing down, he shook his head and snorted.

"If you insist on studying law, I have no interest in stopping you. But you can't take this class with me. I'll never give you a passing grade."