Chapter 20
Fox
This was my day off. Which meant absolutely nothing in the life of a headmaster, because I was on duty all day, every day. Even now, as someone was knocking heavily on my door.
“Riley!”
Emma. Oh fuck.
“Coming!” I called out, detangling myself from what had once been my tidy bed. Now it was a mess of sheets, and in it was this big dude with a hairy chest and the cutest arse known to man.
Fuck.
Morning wood was all good and fun, but not now. Joggers on. Clean hoodie from the drawer. Hair off my face. Fuck, I stank of sweat.
“Ms Blessing,” I said, greeting Emma, who was standing in the hallway with her arms crossed.
“This?” she said, pointing at the floor, “is now a problem.”
Ah. Yes. Perhaps. Because outside my door, curled up on the floor, was Bailey Butcher in his dirty tracksuit. Fast asleep.
“I will sort it.” I tried to sound convincing when I absolutely wasn’t.
“Come with me,” she said, motioning to the office, and I followed, leaving the child asleep on the stone floor.
Hell. Shit.
“I think,” Emma said quietly, closing the office door behind us, “we need to consider if this is the right place for Butcher.”
“He’s not had a chance to settle,” I said. I half agreed with her, but then? “He’s very young and very vulnerable.”
“He’s also imprinted on you to an unhealthy degree. It’s a big red flag, and it is not only becoming dangerous but deeply problematic. I know you’re not encouraging this, but all it takes is one rumour and we will have a massive issue on our hands.”
“I fully agree.” I nodded, wringing my hands. “But at the same time? I get him, fuck I do, Emma. He’s grasping for something; he’s got nothing of his own, he hates the noise, hates that room he’s in, hates Spring House. He just wants a home.”
“Which is why we should consider cutting our losses here. Butcher needs parents and a different environment than what we can offer.”
“Did you not read his file, Blessing?” I hissed. “He’s been in twelve foster homes, one failed adoption and has been labelled as a lost cause. Nobody wants to adopt a twelve-year-old with that kind of history.”
“What was the reason for the failed adoption?”
“They didn’t share that.” Fuck. I should have rung Aberdeen Social Services this week as well because I had a list of questions a mile long. Why the hell did Bailey Butcher not have any belongings? He should have memory boxes and files and photos and…
“Perhaps you should ring them?” Emma snarled. Yes, I didn’t blame her. My job. My misses.
“I’m taking him shopping on Monday; he needs his own clothes, new shoes, and a fucking room full of belongings.”
“I don’t think that will help,” she said, again crossing her arms.
“Why?” I crossed mine too.
“Because whilst I fully know you’re not…
and I will say this again, I know you’re not encouraging this, but you’re soft.
And he’s very charming. A very loveable child.
He’s a good kid, really pleasant in class.
Pays attention and works hard, has a thirst for learning and knowledge, and asks great questions.
But he’s also very manipulative and you’re fucking lost, Riley. ”
“I know he is. And I’m not. This is not our first rodeo.”
“We’ve dealt with worse boys than Butcher.
We’ve also had the strength to cut our losses and admit defeat, which we know has been the correct decision.
I’m still in contact with Aberton. He’s doing really well, and we text weekly, you know this and I know this.
Aberton knows now that this place was completely wrong for him.
What is the right decision for one child is not the right one for another.
Butcher needs parents and a family. He can’t tell us that, but the way he behaves is exactly that. Telling. And concerning.”
“I agree.”
“You’re a single man. A great man. You take on all these kids, but you can’t save them all. We have discussed this before. If we feel one of them is a risk, or too much for us to handle? We agreed to bring it to the board and cut our losses.”
“I don’t want to give up on him.”
“I know that. I can see it because I have known you for a very long time, Riley.”
“Don’t be a dick, Emma.”
“Not being a dick. Just saying the obvious.”
“I’m not going to send him back. I’m not giving up.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“It feels like you are.”
“Then perhaps you should ring Aberdeen. Ask the right questions.”
“I’m ringing. First thing Monday.”
“No, Riley. Ask the right questions.”
“Not following.” I wasn’t and this was very Emma. Assuming I knew where her mind was going, when most of the time I didn’t.
“You should take him. Go be a dad, Riley. He adores you. You could do it.”
“I can’t! What are you talking about? I can’t do that; it would be professionally wrong, and the board would have me…”
“Oh get off it, Fox. He’s a kid. You’re a middle-aged bloke living here alone, and you need a family too.”
“Says the single childless woman to my face.”
“By choice. I don’t hide the fact that I don’t want kids, and that I definitely don’t want a man.”
“I know,” I growled. Bloody Emma Blessing and her bloody ideas.
“I’m nothing like you,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I don’t want what you want. And don’t try to deny it. We can’t just sit here and grow old and let life pass us by.”
“You do?” I might have sounded mean, but Emma was right. We did not want the same things in life, and that was fine.
“And you have a man in your bed. Don’t deny that either. Jones checks the cameras every morning, and he didn’t hold back on that little snippet of information over breakfast. Did you at least have him checked out?”
“Did I ask my date for his criminal records checks, his passport and a clean bill of health?” I snarled. Now I was angry. Fucking hell.
“Do you even know him?”
“Emma!” I barked.
“Well, you didn’t tell me you were having someone over. I mean, I can have your back if I know stuff, but having Jones throw this in my face at seven on a Saturday morning? Fox, give me some credit here.”
“I’ve known him for a while; he’s a good friend. Even Butcher has met him.”
“Oh God, Fox, you’re not helping yourself here.”
“I know.” I sighed.
She sighed too. Just watched me try to compose myself. Emma Blessing. Strongest, smartest woman I knew. It was an honour and an actual blessing to have her by my side. Even when I wanted to shout in her face.
“He’s here for the weekend. I’ll file all the paperwork, and I can guarantee he’ll be escorted at all times and not cause any concern.”
“He already has.”
“I’ll speak to Jones.”
“And I will fill in the logs, as long as you do as you’re told.” She looked like she meant it as well. Now that was concerning.
“And what am I told?” I wanted to stomp my feet. I wanted to shout. I wanted Bailey Butcher back in his room, and I wanted to be back in bed with Noah. That’s what I wanted.
And what I wanted? I could never have.
“You have two options here. You get him moved, or you embrace him.”
“No, Emma. The only option here is working with him to settle in.”
“And destroy his faith in mankind? Again?”
“What are you on about, Emma?”
“I’m telling you. Make that call. Ask about Butcher’s failed adoption. That’s the first step.”
“You can ask me.”
Oh fuck. Here he was, on the doorstep, having once again crept in without us noticing.
“Butcher,” Emma whined.
“They hated me. I hated them. You can’t just plonk a kid in a house and expect him to call the people who live there Mum and Dad. It doesn’t work like that.”
“I understand,” I said. Well, I didn’t, but his words made perfect sense.
“I’m sorry,” Emma said. “We’re trying to figure out why you come sleep on the floor here. It’s too cold, Butcher, and not safe.”
“Safe from what? It’s not like I’m going to be eaten by wild bears or something. It’s inside, and it’s quiet. I’ve slept in worse places.”
“We need to work this out,” I said, trying to gather myself up here. “Sleeping on the floor is not an option, Butcher.”
“Nothing to figure out,” he said, and then he crossed his arms as well. The three of us standing there in some kind of verbal standoff. “I’m going to choose my family from now on. If I have to stay here, then I choose.”
“And what do you choose?” Emma. Always kind. Always asking the impossible. Fuck.
“I want to live over here, with him. He’s not got kids. And I’m right here.”
“I’m your headmaster,” I started, but he just laughed in my face.
“So?”
“Bailey,” I whined. I was starting to sound like Emma.
“What happened to Butcher?”
Okay. I’d admit it. He was impossible.
“We talked about rules last night. We’re going to make some more.”
“I don’t mind rules, but some of yours piss me off.”
“Language, Butcher.”
“Sorry, Ms Blessing.”
Okay. Breathe.
“I’m going to take you to breakfast,” she said, offering Butcher a hand, and I took a breath of relief. “And I expect some action on what we discussed.” That was aimed at me. And Bailey just grinned.
“Say hi to Mr Badweather,” he said.
I wanted to tell him to fuck off. But that? Would have been inappropriate.
The way I slammed the door to my accommodation shut?
It was teenaged raging, and for a forty-one-year-old, it was just stupid.
And then I’d no doubt woken Noah, and I was bouncing around the kitchenette, making a right racket trying to make tea.
Dropping a teaspoon in the tiny sink and mouthing fuck. Fuck. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK.
“What now?” he said, walking into the room, stark naked.
Fuck indeed.
“Bit of an issue this morning. Lots to sort out this week.”
“Sorry,” he said into my neck, just scooping me up. The room was cold. He was bed warm and smelly. Fuck. I loved him. And I knew exactly how stupid even thinking that made me.
“Kid was sleeping outside the door again.”
“Oh,” he said, letting me go, just enough so he could scratch his stubble. Grab my chin. Kiss me. “That’s not good.”
“No. I need to ring social tomorrow and get him sorted.”
“You sending him back?”