Their Undoing (The Nightshade Duet Book 1), page 1
THEIR UNDOING
C.E. KINGSLEY
Copyright © 2023 by C.E. Kingsley
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by C.E. Kingsley
Editing by C.E. Kingsley
CONTENTS
1. Content Warning
2. Chapter One
3. Chapter Two
4. Chapter Three
5. Chapter Four
6. Chapter Five
7. Chapter Six
8. Chapter Seven
9. Chapter Eight
10. Chapter Nine
11. Chapter Ten
12. Chapter Eleven
13. Chapter Twelve
14. Chapter Thirteen
15. Chapter Fourteen
16. Chapter Fifteen
17. Chapter Sixteen
18. Chapter Seventeen
19. Chapter Eighteen
20. Chapter Nineteen
21. Chapter Twenty
22. Chapter Twenty-One
23. Chapter Twenty-Two
24. Chapter Twenty-Three
25. Chapter Twenty-Four
26. Chapter Twenty-Five
27. Chapter Twenty-Six
28. Chapter Twenty-Seven
29. Chapter Twenty-Eight
30. Chapter Twenty-Nine
31. Chapter Thirty
32. Chapter Thirty-One
33. Chapter Thirty-Two
34. Chapter Thirty-Three
35. Chapter Thirty-Four
36. Chapter Thirty-Five
37. Chapter Thirty-Six
38. Chapter Thirty-Seven
39. Chapter Thirty-Eight
40. Chapter Thirty-Nine
41. Chapter Forty
42. Chapter Forty-One
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by C.E. Kingsley
CONTENT WARNING
This book contains strong subject matter that may not be suitable for all readers. The topics in this book involve Abuse, kidnapping, torture, and violence. Reader discretion is advised.
CHAPTER ONE
EMALINE
I walk towards the university grounds as my nerves run rampant. My hands are clammy and I ran them over my jeans, trying to get them dry.
My first semester of college.
I never thought I was going to make it this far, what with having dead parents and a brother that hates you and all. Especially when my brother, Theodore, doesn’t want me to do anything besides give him money. He dropped out of college and with how things have been going, I may have to as well. Although I did well in high school and had a three-point five GPA, landing myself a few scholarships to college, it wasn’t enough to cover everything.
I lied to my brother and said I had picked up another job to earn more money. I didn’t want to give him any reasons to be mad at me and try to make me drop out of college.
Even with the college aid, I’ve had to take out loans and I’m currently working two jobs, consisting of bartending at a club and waitressing at a restaurant. Which isn’t ideal, but when you have bills piling up and need to eat, you do what you have to. I’m hoping I can complete a degree so I can get a better job and earn more money. Ideally, even run away from my brother.
I’m a bartender at this club almost every weeknight, and I waitress on Tuesdays and Thursdays. My weekends may vary; sometimes, I don’t have to work, while other nights, I work both. Working everyday sucks, but it pays the bills.
I’m already worried about college and how I’m going to juggle it all. I’m only taking nine credit hours, three classes total. It may not seem like a lot, but with my two jobs, my entire schedule is booked from the moment I wake up to when my head crashes on the pillow.
The exhaustion weighs on my shoulders every day, reminding me that I don’t get enough sleep. I’ve begun taking naps throughout the day when I get a chance, but it isn’t cutting it. My body recognizes that I need more sleep, but I’m not able to give it any more.
And to top it off, I’m worried about how people are going to view me. Many people know who I am or, well, who my parents were.
Alcoholics who got into the wrong crowd and died.
They weren’t always alcoholics, but something changed, and they started drinking their weight in alcohol. We didn’t have the money for that, but they didn’t care. This resulted in other people paying for it, the wrong type of people, and it didn’t end well for them.
My goal is to keep to myself and not talk to anyone. That shouldn’t be hard since I have pretty terrible anxiety and I’m extremely shy. The thought of talking to someone makes me want to throw up from my nerves alone.
I’ve never been good with people, terrible, in fact, but I’m fine with that. I love to keep to myself. However, working as a bartender and waitress, I’m around people all the time. Working and being around all those people just drains me. Putting on a front that I’m not shy or don’t have anxiety takes a lot of energy. Energy that I don’t have to waste.
I sigh, hunch my shoulders, and make my way through the halls. I came here a week ago to see where my classes are and to find the best routes to take. I didn’t want to look like a fool walking around campus, not knowing where to go.
That would have drawn attention to me, unwanted attention.
As I walk through the crowded hallway, people begin to bump into me, crowding and crashing like a busy stream. My heart rate picks up, and my breathing becomes shallow as I continue to walk past people to get to my class. I didn’t think the school would be this packed. Maybe I should look into online courses so I don’t have to be around this many people.
I hiss in pain when someone slams into my side, their elbow hitting my stomach. My eyes brimmed with tears when they hit one of my many bruises.
“In through your nose, out through your mouth,” I whisper to myself.
I’m almost to my first class, English. If I can make it into the room and find a place to sit, I can calm myself down. All I need is to make it inside the classroom.
As I continue to struggle past bodies as they walk down the halls in the opposite direction, I think maybe I need to get here earlier than I am now. I don’t know how much earlier I could get with working nights, but I could just skip my morning nap to come here.
Skipping naps is really not ideal, but if it helps with my anxiety, then I’m all for doing it.
“Welcome to English One hundred. Please, take a seat,” the professor says to me as well as a couple of other students that walk into class.
Walking through the room, I turn my head towards the front of the space and take in the professor.
Shit.
He’s absolutely gorgeous. He has short brown flowy hair and gorgeous light brown eyes. Suddenly, those eyes land on me, and he takes me in. I quickly glance away, not liking that he caught me staring at him.
I walk towards the back of the class, picking a seat in the corner away from everyone. I don’t want to talk or be close to anyone. As I walk towards my seat, I feel his eyes on me.
It’s a small class, and everyone can see each other easily. I hope it doesn’t fill up, so no one ends up sitting next to me.
I place my bag on the floor and sit down, finally getting comfortable in the chair. I could fall asleep here, but I know I need to pay attention, especially since it’s the first day.
I look up at my teacher and see that he is talking to another student. My body relaxes, and I used this time to take him in.
He’s wearing a navy blue suit that hugs him in all the right ways, showing off that he’s muscular. The way the suit jacket hugs around his arms when he moves shows everyone he has muscles under there. I lick my lips as I think about what he would be like in bed; I bet he knows how to please someone.
I feel myself starting to get wet, which makes me wiggle in my seat. This year isn’t going to go well if I think he is hot. Then, as if he knows I’m thinking about him, he looks in my direction. His eyes land on mine, and my world stops for a second.
He gives me a smile, and I look away.
I need to stop thinking about him like that. He’s my teacher. I shouldn’t be thinking about that. It’s forbidden and frowned upon by so many people.
I can still feel his stare on me, which makes me wiggle in my seat more, trying to get some kind of friction.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I need to stop thinking about this. I’ve had dirty thoughts like these before, but it was nothing serious, and that was a long time ago.
“Welcome to English One Hundred. I’m your professor, Milo Hayes, but you can call me Mr. Hayes or Professor Hayes,” he says as he writes his name up on the board.
He turns around, taking a quick glance at me before looking at the class.
“For the first week, I’ll start with the class roll call. There aren’t a lot of you here, so after a week, I’ll hope to know your face and name,” he says. “Please don’t skip any of my classes. Your first skip will be a warning, and after that, you’ll get points taken off your end-of-year grade.”
Some people groan, but I don’t. I hold mine in. I hope I don’t miss any of his classes, but I can’t guarantee that. With the way my brother is and me working two jobs, I
could easily miss more than one and have to drop the class.
“Tyler Smith,” Professor Hayes begins going through the class roster.
A boy lifts his hand, and professor Hayes marks something on a piece of paper. I zone out as he goes on with the names. I hope I can get over these thoughts about him before the next class.
“Emaline Johnson?” he calls out.
I raise my hand and look at him. He searches the classroom before landing on me, giving me a smile.
Some heads turn toward me, giving me a curious glance, and I shrink into my chair. My palms get sweaty from their stares, and my breathing picks up.
“Alright! This is a basic English course, but I will not make it easy for you. You will have several papers to write and a few projects,” Professor Hayes says.
The longer he talks, the more I fall in love with his voice. It’s deep but soothing; it’s definitely one I could fall asleep to. I blink several times, trying to stay awake as he talks about what to expect this year. Every once in a while, his eyes drift toward me.
“I have office hours every day. However, please email me before coming because I might already have a meeting with another student,” he states. “I listed my email in the syllabus below my name.”
I feel my eyes droop, and my head rolls back onto my seat the more he talks. I am so tired, and I am trying my hardest to stay awake, but it’s a losing battle.
“We’ll be going over some classic literature in this class,” he says.
He continues to talk, but I find myself falling asleep.
A hand lands on my shoulder, jolting me awake from my slumber. I stare up, wide-eyed, directly at professor Hayes. He smiles at me, and I look around the room, realizing everyone is gone.
Shit. Did I sleep through the entire class?
“Emaline?” he asks, bringing me out of my thoughts.
I flinch and look back at him.
“Sorry. It won’t happen again,” I whisper, quickly standing up from my chair.
I grab my bag and start making my way toward the exit as fast as I can before he can say anything.
“Come to one of my office hours since you fell asleep!” Professor Hayes yells as I leave the room.
I don’t know if I can face him now. First, I find him attractive, then I have dirty thoughts about him, and last but not least, I fall asleep in his class. I don’t think I can go to his office hours and be alone with him.
I breathe heavier when I realize what I’ve done. I just slept through the whole first class. Professor Hayes touched my shoulder and said my name, and I flinched. This really isn’t good. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.
Why can’t I just be normal for once? Why do I have to be so weird?
I so badly want to skip my other class, but I know I can’t. Just because that happened in my first class doesn’t mean it will happen in my other ones. Professor Hayes will also, hopefully, forget the encounter by our next class.
I look down at my watch and realize I have thirty minutes before my next one starts. That’s the perfect amount of time to cool down and get ready to be around more people.
I turn and make my way toward the bathroom. I think splashing some cold water on my face will help. It might shock me awake and away from the dirty thoughts about Professor Hayes.
Pushing the door open, I’m met with an empty bathroom. Even better. Now I don’t have to worry about the eyes of other people on me as I go through my thoughts. The first thing I do is turn on the faucet, letting the water get cold before I cup my hands and splash some on my face.
The cold water jolts me awake, and I feel my body starting to cool down. I hope this doesn’t have to become a regular occurrence for me after this class. I don’t think I’ll be able to survive if I have to.
Maybe if this happens again, I can see if I can switch classes. I don’t know how that would work, but I can put my big girl pants on and ask an academic advisor about it if I need to.
I look up at myself in the mirror and realize just how tired I look. There are dark bags under my eyes, and my skin is so pale that it looks almost translucent. I worry about myself and how sick I look. It’s probably not normal to look the way that I do.
“Did you hear about the new football player?” a girl asks as she walks into the bathroom.
I stare at her through the mirror with big eyes. Shit. Is she talking to me?
Just as I’m about to open my mouth, another girl walks into the bathroom behind her, and I let out the breath I was holding.
I take that as my cue to leave the bathroom and head to my next class. There is no reason to stay in there with them or delay the inevitable.
I don’t necessarily want to go to this class, which is business, but I know I need to. I am, after all, paying for these classes, so I need to show up and do my best. Luckily, my next class is right next to the bathroom, so it doesn’t take me long to get in there.
I made sure that all my classes this year were smaller so I wouldn’t get overwhelmed by all the other students. It definitely wouldn’t make a good impression to have a panic attack with over four hundred people in the class.
That’s a recipe for disaster and humiliation.
I also tend to learn better in smaller classes. I think it’s just easier for me to concentrate. Normally in smaller classes, it’s harder to talk during lessons, because there isn’t much noise with so few students.
“Thank you for joining class,” the professor says as I walk in. I find it odd that he said that since I’m not late.
I look down at my feet and blush. I can feel all the eyes on me, and I don’t like it. This is everything I didn’t want.
I quickly find my seat and sit down. I take a glance at the professor and realize he is already staring at me.
Shit. He’s gorgeous. Is every professor here a damn model?!
He has long brown hair, which is up in a bun, and I can clearly see his grey eyes. He’s wearing a suit that hugs his body, and it’s beginning to make me drool.
My eyes roam over him, and I look at his neck when I see something black. Shit. He has tattoos as well?
I wonder if he has tattoos all over his body or if they are just on his neck? You can barely see the tattoo under his collar, but whatever it is, I want to see more.
I realize we’ve been staring at each other for quite some time, so I quickly glance down.
Great. I’m bringing more attention to myself.
People around me are looking at us, and all I want to do is hide and never show my face again.
What have I done to deserve this?
The teacher clears his throat.
“My name is Sabastian Hart, but you will all call me Professor Hart. I expect excellence in this class and nothing less,” he says, addressing the class. “This is Intro to Business, but the word ‘Intro’ doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy. I’m not that kind of teacher.”
His voice is deep and emotionless like he doesn’t have a care in this world. But his voice is also smooth and heavenly. It’s the kind of voice you could listen to all the time and never get bored.
“I expect you to give it your best, and if I don’t think you are, we’ll be having a chat,” he says as he looks directly at me.
I really hope this class isn’t too hard. I also hope there isn’t too much homework. It seems like my English class is going to be difficult, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do all this classwork along with the actual work.
“There will be a few projects, but we will mostly have tests and quizzes in this class,” he says, looking over at me again.
