Disciplinary Action

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Disciplinary Action Page 24

by Onley James


  Gideon sat on a worn leather sofa in Dean Neal Dover’s plush oversized office. Dover and Foy both sat in ugly leather chairs with hammered nail accents. Dover had a strange addiction to heavy wood and brown leather furniture that made Gideon feel borderline claustrophobic. There was barely any light streaming through the wood blinds, just enough for him to watch dust particles dance in the beams of sunshine.

  Dover looked like every college administrator Gideon had ever met. He was average height, soft around the middle, and had a fondness for jackets with elbow patches. He also had a long white beard and wire rimmed spectacles that made him look like a cross between Freud and Santa Claus. Foy was well into his sixties but could have passed for half that. He was small in both stature and weight. He had thinning black hair and dark brown eyes and spoke loudly, like he was trying to make up for his lack of physical presence.

  He’d been listening to Dover and Foy for over forty minutes as they took turns chastising him for his ‘error in judgment.’ He didn’t react. He didn’t do anything. Honestly, he’d spent most of the time tuning them out, and the less he spoke, the more they tended to repeat themselves. He finally broke down and said, “In my defense, I was sleeping with the student before you asked me to be the school’s interim headmaster. Also, I didn’t know he was in high school since he was a nineteen-year-old sex worker when we met.”

  Foy’s face turned an unsettling shade of red as he stumbled over whatever it was he’d been planning to say.

  Dover, however, finally got to the point of their little meeting. “I’m afraid you’ve left us no other choice but to let you go,” he said, clearly irritated with Gideon’s blasé attitude.

  Gideon had considered letting them go on a little longer, but he figured the guys parked in the van on the street listening to their conversation had probably had enough. Gideon sighed. He supposed there was no better segue way than that. “Oh, you’ll let me go, alright, but you won’t be firing me. In fact, I need the both of you to write me a letter talking about my outstanding character and teaching skills as well as my numerous publications and all the achievements and accolades I’ve brought to the department and the school as a whole.” They both gaped at him, but Gideon wasn’t done yet. “Then you, Neal, are going to call Boston College and tell them that one of your best professors is looking for a job out that way and you really think I’d be a great fit for their psych department.”

  Dover laughed, but Foy scoffed, shaking his head, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “You’re a little young to be having a midlife crisis, Leo. Is this some kind of nervous breakdown? Delayed grief response? I know things have been hard since you lost Grant—”

  Gideon held up a hand. “I’m going to stop you right there. I know Roger called you and asked you to fire me, not because of my relationship with a fully consenting adult but because his grandson is pissed about missing out on Harvard and thinks Callum had something to do with it. However, Roger doesn’t realize that I know all of your dirty little secrets.”

  Dover and Foy exchanged glances. “What?” Foy asked, nervously pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about how you allow students to cheat their way into this school. I’m talking about how you’ve taken millions of dollars in bribes from some of the wealthiest and well-known people in the country. My husband kept meticulous notes. While it’s true he died years ago, I’m sure the feds would be quite interested in what I have to show them, especially when coupled with all the information I managed to gather while at Roosevelt. I found the last six weeks very…enlightening.”

  “Listen, whatever you think you know…” Foy blustered.

  “Believe me when I say I know everything. This isn’t me bluffing. To be honest, I don’t really care about your little scheme. The rich have been buying their kids’ way into fancy schools for centuries. I just want out of here before your little house of cards collapses. So, you can either take the deal and get me that interview with Boston College, or I’ll walk out of here and make a phone call to the FBI and the Department of Justice and let them fight over who gets to take you down.”

  Silence stretched as Gideon watched the two men attempt to communicate without uttering a word. He would have found it amusing if there wasn’t someplace else he’d rather be.

  Finally, Foy sighed, his entire demeanor changing. “Without admitting any blame, I’m sure we can make Boston happen. It will be a shame to lose such a wonderful professor, but if you feel your skills are better utilized there, who are we to stand in your way?”

  Dover nodded as if what Foy said was some wise proverb. “Yes. Yes. Foy is right. If you feel you belong in Boston, let us make that happen for you.”

  “I have no intention of leaving until you do,” Gideon said, a cold smile spreading across his face.

  “Right. Right,” Dover said, jumping from his seat to return to his desk.

  Gideon turned to Foy. “Why didn’t you just invite me into the loop? Did my husband tell you to keep me out of it? I’m assuming he’s the reason I even got this job in the first place.”

  Foy fidgeted with the ring on his finger. His fraternity ring. The same fraternity as Grant. “Grant didn’t get you the job. He simply asked me to put your resume at the top of the pile. It wasn’t as if your grades and publications didn’t speak for themselves. But you of all people know that it’s not what you know, it’s who you know. We all need a little help sometimes.”

  Gideon leaned forward, steepling his fingers together. “Where does it end? Who are you to say who’s deserving of help and who’s not? You’ve got your finger on the scale, helping the rich stay rich. Why? Doesn’t hard work matter, and if it doesn’t, what’s the point of the entire educational system?”

  Foy shrugged, most likely just assuming Gideon was feeling philosophical since he’d just blackmailed them into giving him what he wanted. “Listen, the rich will always find a way to ensure they stay on top, keep the status quo and whatnot. Why shouldn’t we also profit from it? It’s going to happen with or without us. Companies like Tri-State will always ensure that rich kids have every advantage. We’re just lucky enough to profit from it as well.” When Gideon didn’t comment, the man seemed to try harder to find a way to spin himself into Robin Hood. “Look at it this way. By allowing a small percentage of rich kids to buy their way in, we’re allowing the larger percentage that earned their spots to have access to much better things. It’s like a donation with benefits. Everybody wins.”

  Gideon scoffed, wondering what Simmons thought of that bullshit answer. Gideon kept prodding, asking leading questions, while he watched Dover make phone calls and type out the letters Gideon had demanded. Foy, to Gideon’s surprise, never stopped talking once the floodgates opened. It was just like Rosalind—like, deep down, these people wanted somebody to know how clever they were. He seemed almost relieved to unburden himself of his knowledge of the operations, filling Gideon in on things even Rosalind hadn’t. Somewhere, there were several men in the back of a van doing a jig over Foy and his never-ending confession. Gideon almost felt guilty about how easy it was to get the men to roll over and give him everything he wanted.

  Letters in hand and an interview for Boston College secured, Gideon left Dover’s office, only then bothering to turn on his phone. He was at the van when a text message appeared from Cal.

  Alexa was hit by a car. She’s hurt bad. We’re with Des. Come quick.

  Gideon ripped the microphone off in the parking lot, knocking on the van door and tossing the device to the man at the door. He didn’t remember getting into his car. His mind raced at all the possibilities. How had Alexa gotten hit by a car? Did she escape her leash? Would she be alright? Gideon tried calling Cal, but his phone was going straight to voicemail.

  As soon as he got to the animal clinic, he turned off the car, leaving it in the middle of the parking lot. He crashed through the doors of the clinic, the smell of disi
nfectant knocking him back on his heels as the two young blonde women behind the counter gave him a startled look.

  “Gideon?”

  He turned to find Cal huddled in a chair in the far corner of the waiting room. His eyes went wide. Jesus. Had Cal been hit by the car as well? He rushed to him, getting on his knees in front of him to grip his face. Both eyes were black, his nose red and swollen, dried blood rimming his nostrils. He had a bruise on his left cheek, and both palms were filthy and shredded.

  “What the hell happened to you, baby?” he barked, not angry at Cal but furious that he’d failed to protect what was his.

  “Matteo,” Cal managed, looking exhausted, his eyes bloodshot from crying.

  “Matteo did this to you?” Gideon growled, already reaching for his phone. “I’m going to have this little bastard strung up by his testicles.”

  Cal shook his head. “Gideon, not now. Please. I don’t care about me. I just want to know Alexa’s okay. Can you please make them tell us if she’s okay? They won’t tell me anything,” Cal begged, his voice catching on a sob.

  Gideon nodded. He couldn’t handle seeing Cal’s tears. “Yes. Alright. I’ll go ask them, but then you and I are going to talk.”

  Gideon went to the front desk where the two young girls sat in scrubs. He’d met them once before when he’d brought Alexa for her microchip. “Can one of you please go back and get an update on Alexa? Callum is very upset, and it’s really not good for his blood sugar levels.”

  The girl gave Gideon a soft smile before nodding and disappearing through the swinging doors. He went back to Cal, noting the spots of blood on his white shirt. “Are you bleeding?”

  Cal looked down with dull eyes. “What? Oh, no. Matteo ripped out my sensor and insulin pump when he kicked me.”

  Gideon yanked up Cal’s shirt, running his fingers over the spots where Cal’s pump and sensor usually sat attached just below his skin. The small pieces of tape remained, but the devices as well as the catheters were gone, leaving two small puncture wounds. “He kicked you?” Gideon roared, causing the other patrons to glower at him, clutching their animals close. “He kicked you?” Gideon said again, quieter but still fuming.

  Cal nodded, his voice tired as he said, “He found me in the back lot throwing the ball to Alexa. I guess he didn’t see her in the bushes. He was mad that I got into Harvard. Turns out his family is broke thanks to my dad. He decided to take it out on my face. Alexa tried to defend me and got hurt.”

  “She’s going to be fine. You both are,” Gideon said, leaving no room for argument.

  Cal frantically shook his head. “You don’t know she’s going to be fine. You don’t know that. She looked so small and scared. She was bleeding from her nose.”

  Gideon just wanted to ease Cal’s mind. The boy had already been through so much. “You’re bleeding from your nose and you’re going to be just fine,” Gideon countered. The only one who wasn’t going to be fine was that little shit, Matteo. That kid was going to jail, even if Gideon had to join the force and arrest him himself. “Alexa is going to be okay. I’ll fly her to some fancy pants animal hospital by private helicopter if I have to.”

  Cal gave him a skeptical look but didn’t fight back.

  “When was the last time you checked your blood sugar? When did you eat last?”

  Cal shrugged. “A couple of hours ago.”

  “I have another testing kit and spare insulin pens in the car. As soon as we know Alexa is okay, we’ll check your sugars and go get you something to eat. You know you aren’t supposed to get worn out like this.”

  Before Cal could respond, Des pushed through the doors, wearing pale blue scrubs covered in blood and a white coat he’d clearly donned in an attempt to hide it. “She has two broken ribs and a lacerated spleen that I managed to stitch up. She also fractured her leg, so I had to set that. She’s still sedated, but barring any unforeseen issues like infection, she should be fine. I want to keep her here for a few nights to keep an eye on her.”

  Cal gave a dismayed cry. “She has to stay here? By herself? She’ll get scared. She’ll think she’s been abandoned.”

  Des shook his head. “I live right upstairs. I’ll make sure she’s not alone,” he promised. “Okay?”

  Cal studied the other man’s face before giving a hesitant nod. “Yeah, thanks.”

  Des gave Gideon a half wave and then turned and called for his next patient. Once the waiting room was quiet again, Gideon turned back to Cal, who was chewing on his bottom lip. “See? Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “Everything’s not going to be fine,” Cal cried, pushing Gideon out of the way and bolting out the door.

  The other pet owner’s stared at Gideon in confusion, but he could only sigh and follow Cal out the door. He didn’t have to go far to find him. Cal had run out of steam next to Gideon’s car, his hands covering his face as he sagged against the passenger door.

  “What’s wrong with you today?” Gideon asked, wrapping his arms around the boy and pulling him close.

  “I got my email from Harvard while I was sitting in there waiting for them to tell me whether Alexa would live or die,” Cal said, like he’d just received his own death sentence.

  “That’s a good thing,” Gideon reminded him. “Harvard was all you ever wanted, remember?”

  “It’s not, though. Not now,” Cal said, voice thick. “It’s supposed to be a good thing. The best thing. I’ve wanted to go to Harvard since I was a kid, since my mom let me wear her t-shirts as sleep shirts when I was little. Then she died and it became something I needed, not just wanted. I needed Harvard to be close to her, to have something I shared with her, but now, I have you. You and Alexa. And that means Harvard has a great big black cloud hanging over it because gaining Harvard means I lose you guys.”

  “But th—”

  Cal cut him off. “Don’t tell me there’s holidays and vacations. I don’t want to only see you guys on vacations. I don’t want to only talk to you via FaceTime with some dumb roommate eavesdropping on our conversations. I want to go to bed with you every night and wake up with you every morning and eat breakfast together and cook naked and get punished every night and have you fuck me awake some mornings.” Cal’s voice cracked as he asked, “What if you find somebody else or realize you’re better off without me?”

  Gideon couldn’t stop himself from laughing, but watching Cal’s face crumple into tears stole his delight. “Stop. Please, don’t cry. You’re not losing me or Alexa. We’re coming with you. That’s what I’ve been trying to put into place. I’m going to sublet the loft, and we’ll find a place together in Boston, if that’s what you want. If not, Alexa and I can find our own place and you can stay in the dorms and have your real college exper—”

  Cal shook his head. “No. No. No. I don’t want dorms and keg parties. I want you. Just you. Just us. You, me, and Alexa. Our own little family.”

  Their own little family. Gideon couldn’t ever have dared to dream of a life where he had everything he’d ever wanted, but Cal was it. Cal was everything. It seemed hard to believe. So little time had passed since they met, but it felt like a lifetime in some ways and no time at all in others. Gideon just wanted as much time as possible. Whatever time Cal was willing to give him.

  “Are you certain, little bird?” Gideon asked, praying Cal didn’t change his mind.

  “I’ve never been certainer,” Cal said with a giddy laugh.

  “More certain,” Gideon corrected.

  “Whatever. Just kiss me, Daddy.”

  Gideon kissed him hard. “Don’t forget who gives the orders around here.”

  “As if I could,” Cal said with a wistful sigh.

  “Where are we going?” Cal asked again for the tenth time since they’d left the hotel.

  “For the one millionth time, it’s a surprise.”

  “Haven’t you given me enough surprises this weekend?” Cal asked, gazing down at the simple black band on his left finger.

 
Gideon had given Cal a new bracelet, one made of titanium. The front held the coordinates to the hotel, but on the back it read, Forever mine. G. Like Cal’s ID bracelet, it took a special tool to remove it. A tool only Gideon had. Cal had thought that was the end of the surprises, but this morning, Cal had woken to Gideon on one knee beside the bed and an open ring box. When Cal had questioned Gideon, he’d simply said, “The bracelet is so you know you’re mine forever. The ring is so you know I’m yours too.”

  It all seemed so surreal. Cal was engaged. Gideon wanted to spend their lives together. It seemed like a million years ago when he’d sat in the car on that rainy night with Bastian, talking over how he was going to make it through just one night with Gideon. Now, he couldn’t imagine spending even one night without him.

  Boston was everything Cal had hoped for. The classes were challenging, the weather was sometimes treacherous, but he and Gideon had carved out a place for themselves. They had a ridiculously overpriced apartment in Harvard Square within walking or biking distance to both colleges and had adopted another dog, a tiny pug named Tinkerbell. A month ago, they’d also adopted a kitten named Montague. They walked Alexa and Tink together every morning and every night, then Gideon graded papers while Cal sat on the floor and did his homework.

  Some people probably thought their life was boring, but for every night of early bedtimes for finals, there was over-the-knee spankings, remote controlled sex toys, and Gideon fucking Cal against the window of their bedroom. Their sex life was anything but boring. They’d been together almost two years now, and Gideon was still the sexiest man Cal had ever seen up close.

  The summer after graduation, Gideon had taken Cal to Italy to celebrate, but this year, they’d opted to stay home with their menagerie of animals. While all of Cal’s friends were taking trips to Mexico and Costa Rica, Gideon and Cal had spent an entire month naked, fucking on every surface of their apartment with Cal screaming, “Fuck me, Daddy,” until the neighbors complained and the landlord left them a very stern letter that had sent Cal into spasms of laughter. He kept it in a drawer with all his other keepsakes of their relationship. The next door neighbors still gave Cal and Gideon dirty looks whenever they caught sight of them in the hall.

 

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