Chapter 24
Arnie
Fucking Martin.
Heads would roll if I were the Dean of this university. After giving out Jamie’s full contact information, the staff member involved could stay on with no repercussions.
How can it be Jamie’s fault for not wanting to talk about his trauma? Therefore, not telling the institution about Jed so that his name was on file for no access.
My blood boils as Martin gives Jamie another one of those fake sympathetic smiles while Jamie pleads his case.
"But...I..." Jamie tries to defend his place there, but the Dean’s obvious ignorance of individual cases cut him off. Regurgitating some handbook of rules, he carries on with the farce.
“Jamie, like I said, there was no file to tell us about your stepdad. A guardian provided proof of ID, and the staff allowed them to withdraw you, citing mental health as the reason. We thought you couldn’t consent and had sent a guardian in your place.”
Jamie looks exasperated as he sits in front of the glass desk in Martin’s office. His face is flushed red with frustration. If I could fight for him, I would. The whole incident is completely unjust, and it seems there is no way for Jamie to win his case here.
“Look, you can retake the year next year and pay the fees. We obviously can’t give you a scholarship to finish the 6 months you originally had left before graduation. But you would be most welcome back in August,” Martin states with a smile, as if any of what he is saying is good news.
With a look of defeat, Jamie bowed his head and nodded. I hate this for him. I hate Jed gets to decide that Jamie’s life is a game to be played with.
“Jamie, I know it’s not the answers you wanted today, but look on the bright side. You were failing classes and needed a tutor. You can retake the year, and our brilliant TA Arnie here can help get you up to spec on time,” he says as he points over to the filing cabinet that I’m leaning against.
“I can’t afford it alone,” Jamie says in the quietest voice I have ever heard from him. My heart aches. I remember that feeling of failure because of financial poverty.
Jamie will be homeless and lack a degree to pursue a well-paying career without the scholarship. His attempts to better his life after running away from home, quashed by an angry man and a ridiculous university faculty.
Anger rushes through me again, and I hide my tight fists behind me. I vow to help my blondie any which way I can. If I could bulldoze this place or at the very least have the staff involved sacked, I would. But I can only watch as his future is stolen.
“According to my secretary, you’re still out of the dorms, so at least you don’t have the burden of moving your things out in front of your classmates.
Professor Simmons has told me you were a fine addition to his classes and that he will give you a recommendation should you choose not to return until the autumn. ”
Is this white-haired fuck for real?
“Jamie, time to go,” I say, my tone cold, but not towards him. I stalk across the Dean's office and pull him from the expensive leather armchair he was sitting in. Jamie doesn’t look at me but lets me lead him towards the door.
“Good luck,” Martin calls out as we leave, and it takes every professional cell in me not to flip him off or bruise his face.
Once down the spiral staircase and onto the green outside, where the high sun greets us. I pull Jamie into a hug as soon as we near some secluded trees.
“Jamie, I am going to take care of this. You trust me, don’t you?”
“Sure,” he shrugs, still not looking up.
“Jamie, this isn’t the way we thought things would go, but I made a promise to you I intend to keep. Look at me, please,” I say, my finger under his chin to make him look my way.
He meets my gaze with those saddened grey eyes, looking exhausted and stressed out. I hug him tightly again, knowing that it won’t be doing much, but I need him to know I am here for him.
“We still have time for me to drop you off at your market with Raj. Why don’t you take some time for yourself? Try to have fun. I bet some time with a friend is just what you need. Let me take care of this, blondie. It’s my job now, remember?”
He smiles a little then, and I know everything will be okay.
“Okay, but I won’t be gone long. I think you’re right about letting it go for now. I have some serious thinking to do about my options, but not today,” he says as he fidgets with the corner of my shirt.
“Okay, let’s go,” I say, placing my hand on his lower back as we make our way back to the car.
***
“Those fuckers,” Simmons growls, slamming his coffee mug down.
“I know. My heart broke for him when Martin told him. I could have blackened his eyes right there and then, too, if I’m honest,” I say with a small smile.
“Well, thank God you didn’t. You need to help that boy, not cause extra problems,” he says, his tone playful. We are in my kitchen, discussing Jamie’s options and what we can do for him. Simmons is a fixer, just like me, and two heads are better than one.
“We’ve talked about funding him this year, but what if he decides not to go back?”
That hadn’t really crossed my mind. I thought Jamie's plan was to graduate, ditch his gig at Cheeks and move on to greener pastures. I was sure that he wouldn’t leave me, given that we literally just got together this morning, but he could have changed his mind now that he didn’t get the news he wanted.
He might get a job in another city. Simmons, knowing me so well, carries on.
“We can help prepare for every aspect of this fallout. We could talk to Burt, Mags, or Beau? See if anyone needs an account assistant or a full-time dancer? He could, if he’s comfortable, keep living with you.
I’m sure you’re in no rush to kick him out if your dynamic has changed?
” I had filled Simmons in on my new relationship status, much to his pleasure.
Mr Matchmaker seemed pretty pleased with himself.
“Let’s speak with them and see what’s out there. I still need to speak with Jamie and see what his decision will be, so no point rushing anything now,” I say, running my hands through my hair in frustration.
“Are you sure letting him be out today was a good idea? Apparently, someone has seen the stepdad on campus more than once this week."
“Yeah, I wanted to speak with you, but also give him some space. It’s not ideal, but I doubt an abusing piece of shit like Jed will be at an LGBTQ+ market today,” I say in defence of my decision.
Jamie had told me about his brother and the article that was attached to his message on our drive over to the uni.
Concerning, obviously, but it put us in a suitable position to deal with Jed if he ever showed up.
Being a wanted criminal means the police can’t be far off his trail, leaving him no doubt hiding during daylight hours to avoid being caught.
Jamie told me Raj would drive him back, so I wasn’t worried about his safety right now.
We talk for a while about Simmons and the new sub he met at the club while I knock us up something for lunch.
“How’s Freddie?” I ask as I chop red onions for the salad. Simmons grabs plates and serves the sandwiches, avoiding my eyes.
“Yeah, uh…good,” he sighs.
Throwing the diced onion into the wooden bowl, I clean my hands on the towel beside me.
“Come on, Simmons. I know you. It’s clear you like him, or you wouldn’t have basically growled at me when I first met him.”
Freddie and Simmons seemed to have a history before I met the bratty sub. A complicated history that Simmons has only given me snippets of. Mainly when he’s fucking it up and needs a boot up the ass.
“He’s fine. Seems to need pain less and less these days. Still bratty though,” he admits to me. I sigh, knowing I won’t get much more than that, so I opt for annoying him instead.
“So, no wedding bells? A key to your home for the pale beauty?”
“Fuck off, Arnie. Not all of us want what you want.”
“Yeah, well, I was also where you were standing this time last year. Love doesn’t wait until you’re ready to show its face.”
“You love hi — “
A loud bang and the sound of glass smashing suddenly comes from the living room.
Thankful for an interruption but wondering what the fuck was going on, we both look at each other before making our way through to see what had happened.
A brick lies in a blanket of smashed glass on the sofa below the front window.
“What the fuck,” I say as I look out the window, keeping back slightly in case another brick comes flying my way.
“Think this is Jed’s work?” Simmons asks, bending to pick up the brick and inspecting it.
“There’s only one unhinged person we know of, Simmons,” I say through heavy breaths as I watch a much older, fatter man dressed in black storm down the road and away from my home.