Chapter 1
BECKHAM
The rapid thud of my heart pulses in my ears as I struggle to keep my breath under control. My knees feel like they’re going to give out on me any second.
What good is having an alarm, if the damn thing doesn’t go off?
The last thing I need is to be late for my lecture and give the professors of this school another reason to talk. Seeing that's all they like to do at this godforsaken place.
To them, I’m a conundrum. I’m either too young to be a professor, and would be better teaching little kids, or I’m too old to be a single omega without a pack.
If that's not enough to get them talking, add in that I’ve offended a few of the female staff members by turning them down when they asked me out for coffee when I first started.
It’s not like I haven’t made it clear on more than one occasion that I prefer something they can’t offer me. Like a cock.
How many times does one man have to say they’re gay before it gets into someone's head?
A lot, apparently.
I might hate the people I work with, but I love my job. Teaching young minds, helping them take that next step in reaching their goals. The petty workings of this place won’t take that away from me, because I can find that joy in any school.
Bursting through the front doors, I take off down the hallway towards my classroom.
“No running in the halls, Mr. Kennedy!” Mr. Wellington shouts as I run past him.
“I mean this in the most professional way!” I shout back, indeed not doing as he told me to. “Get fucked!”
Was that the best thing to say to a fellow colleague, no. But the man is a prick and unbeknownst to him, I’ve heard him talking about me in a not so kind way more than once. So fuck him.
Rounding the corner, I stumble to a stop. Brows furrowed, I look at the number of students not where they’re supposed to be. “Why is this hallway filled with bodies and not in the class room waiting?” I ask, swallowing hard as I struggle to catch my breath.
“Because the door is locked,” Brent, one of the more disruptive students ever so helpfully points out with a raised brow.
“Ah, well.” I clear my throat, walking past the line of students towards the door. Ignoring the eyes on my back, I unlock it and let them in.
“Not going to lie, Professor Kennedy, was hoping for the morning off.” Brent sighs dramatically as he walks past me.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Marshall. But I’m here. Ready to teach.”
“Actually, that’s going to have to wait,” one of my good and only friends here, Penelope, says as she makes her way down the hall towards me. “Emergency staff meeting. Did you not get the email?”
“What?” Alarm fills me. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I check my emails. When I see nothing, I check my spam. “There’s nothing.” I show her my phone.
“Huh,” she pulls up the email on her phone and shows me. “It went out this morning.”
“I swear to god, I’m going to lose my fucking shit if they don’t lay off me,” I grumble in annoyance.
Marcy, the school receptionist who is in charge of sending these kinds of emails happens to be one of the oh so heartbroken women I’ve turned down and has been petty ever since. This is the fifth email in three months I haven’t gotten.
I’ve already missed two meetings because of it. I’m sorry if I hurt her feelings, but she’s messing with my damn job.
“Come on,” Penelope says. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Yeah, ah, okay just a moment.” I head into the class, dropping my bag and coat off at my desk.
“Class. There’s been an emergency staff meeting called.
Please take out your textbooks and review chapters twenty through twenty-five in preparation for the upcoming exams. I’ll be back as soon as possible.
" Brent raises his hand and starts to speak. “And no.” I cut him off. “You can not leave. If you do, I will mark you as absent, and I know some of you can’t afford anymore missed classes.” I give him a pointed look and he slumps down in his chair.
“I bet it has something to do with Chad,” I hear one of my female students say to the guy sitting next to her as I start to leave. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“He did it to himself. Dude was a druggie.” the guy scoffs.
“Still.” She shakes her head. “That’s five this year alone.”
“Did another student die?” I ask Penelope as soon as I’m out of the classroom.
She chews on her lip, eyes turning away from me, telling me all I need to know.
“Fuck,” I hiss harshly, running a hand through my hair roughly.
“It’s going to be okay.” Penelope places a hand on my arm.
“Okay?” I scoff. “Nothing is okay about the drug problem this school campus has. One too many kids are dying, Pen. They come here, expecting us to keep them safe, and look at what’s happening.”
“We can’t help them all.” She gives me a sympathetic look.
Can’t help them all, no. But we can help by using the school funding to help clean up the school rather than use it all on the sports department.
What’s more important, students being safe and healthy, or people watching men throw a football around?
“Nice of you to grace us with your presence,” Dean Robbison quips as we step into the teachers’ lounge.
My teeth grind together as I bite my tongue to keep from making a snarky comment back to the asshole. That man is homophobic, doesn't matter how much he denies it. I know what I see. What I hear.
Giving him a little nod, I take the seat closest to me.
“I’m sure you're all wondering why I called this meeting," the Dean says. “It’s been brought to our attention, Chad Wentworth was found over the weekend and has passed away due to a drug overdose—”
I don’t hear anything else he says as dread fills my stomach, and my body feels like lead. Chad Wentworth. As in the young boy who came to me months ago, seeking help because his father tried to beat him to death when he found out he was gay.
And when I tried to be the voice he needed, it got me nowhere. With his father being a well respected man of this city, no one believed Chad. Made him out to be a troubled kid.
The best I could do to help him was get him out of his father’s house and into the student dorms.
Right into the hands of people who could give him something to ease the pain he was clearly going through.
I should have done more to help him. Give him a place to stay. But it wouldn’t have looked good on my part letting a young male student live with me. That would have violated the rules of my job, risking my termination.
What I should have done is paid for it myself. It’s not like I don’t have money. I have more money and power than I know what to do with.
It’s why I moved here, getting away from the life I’m destined to take over one day, using this chance to live my life for myself. I’m focusing on what I want before I’m in charge of an entire empire.
Did my pride cost me this young man's life?
I need to stop being so hard on myself. This isn’t my fault. I did what I could. I tried more than anyone else seems to have. I didn’t do this to him. I didn’t fail him. His parents did.
And I’d be lying to myself if I believed any of that for a moment. This guilt is going to eat at me. I’ll always feel like I could have done more, should have saved him from the people in his life who should have been the ones to protect him.
You can’t save them all.
But fuck, I wish I could.
I try to listen to what the Dean is saying, but my mind is somewhere else. Dread and guilt weighing heavily on my shoulders.
“An email regarding everything we’ve just talked about will be sent out. If you have any questions, please come see me.”
Everyone gets up and starts to make their way out of the room, most likely returning to their respective classes.
“Can I speak to you for a moment?” I ask Dean Robbison.
He looks over at me and the look in his eyes tells me he’s done with this conversation before it even starts. Feeling is mutual, buddy.
“What can I help you with, Mr. Kennedy?” he asks, clicking his tongue.
“Can you please go over the part where you talked about what's going to be done around here regarding the drug issue on campus?"
His brows furrow. “I don’t understand what you mean. Were you not paying attention?” he sighs heavily and shakes his head. “First you’re late, then you don’t bother listening to a word I said? At least I should be grateful you even showed up to this one.”
“First off, your receptionist hasn’t sent me anything in weeks regarding these meetings.
” I try to keep my cool but my irritation with this man is growing by the second.
Alpha fucking asshole is what he is. “I haven’t gotten any emails from the school in months.
So, maybe talk to her about holding a professional manner when it comes to work, and not let getting turned down by a gay man cause her to be petty. ”
“I beg your–”
“Second off,” I cut in, loving the way his nostrils flare in anger.
“I’m sorry if I wasn’t completely paying attention, forgive me, but you just told me a student I cared deeply about died.
So, I ask you again. Tell me what you're going to do about the drug issue we seem to be having. Because not only have all the students who have died of drug overdoses in this area come from this school, but they’ve all happened on this campus. At either dorm parties or frat houses.”
“I don’t know what you want me to do apart from what we’ve already been doing. There is a no drugs allowed rule set in place. It’s been made known to the students for weeks now.”
I give him a blank look. “And they are clearly abiding by that. They’re young adults.
Do you think a simple rule is going to make them do as they’re told?
What is being done to make sure the rules are being followed?
Have you done any drug testing? Have any RA’s or fraternity presidents done any room checks? ”
“Well, of course not. That would be a violation of privacy.” He huffs.