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30. Player

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The dean leaves me waiting in the hallway for more than two hours without any sign of letting me into his office.

I pace back and forth in front of his door, nerves on edge.

My lower lip is split, and I can still taste blood on the tip of my tongue.

I think with satisfaction that at least the other guy has a black eye he'll be sporting for a few days.

I'm sure his higher-ups will be asking him some tough questions.

That guy pushed me to my limit, and rearranging his face helped me release the anger simmering inside me.

The image of Dixie rolling on the ground flashes through my mind, and a strange sensation tightens my chest. I did that.

However, I don't have time to dwell on it as the office door swings open, revealing a middle-aged man whom I recognize from having seen him several times in college brochures—Dean Stevens.

His gaze lands on me. "Mr. Boardman, you may come in."

His voice is curt. I enter the room, taking in my surroundings. Everything here is solid wood and old stone.

The dean takes his seat, his attention fixed on me as if trying to size me up. I wonder what he sees, before dismissing the thought. I couldn't care less what he thinks of me. I just want to get out of this office as quickly as possible.

"Sit down."

It's not an invitation, but an order. I comply almost despite myself.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush. My friendship with your father doesn't give you a free pass at Old Meyer University ." He pauses, no doubt to let his words sink in. "We do not tolerate violence of any kind. You violated several campus rules today."

I'm tempted to argue that the other guy started it, but I think better of it. Anyway, it doesn't change the fact that I also gave him a beating. Truth be told, I don't regret what I did at all.

Dixie's boyfriend got the thrashing he deserved.

The dean continues, "Your achievements on the field don't give you any special privileges, Mr. Boardman. Quite the contrary. You have a duty to set an example for the rest of the students. Your behavior can bring pride to our institution, but it can also harm it."

I hadn't considered the situation from that angle, but it doesn't change what I did, and I don't feel any more remorse about it.

"You understand that we cannot let such a violation of the student code of conduct slide."

At this point, I still haven't opened my mouth, and I plan to stick with that approach. I don't even see what I could say to fix my problems...

The sentence falls like a guillotine. "As a result, you are on full suspension for four weeks. Including football and classes. Your ability to remain a student will depend on your ability to complete and turn in assignments remotely. "

When I leave the office, I feel like I'm in a daze.

I should be happy about my fate, since I never wanted to study at OMU to begin with, but it's not that simple.

And everything gets even more complicated when I arrive at the dorm.

Everyone gives me sideways glances, and the one person I want to see doesn't show her face.

I return to my room where I gather my things in preparation for leaving campus for the next month. Maybe, just maybe, I might be back in time for the end of football season… if I give a fuck then.

"What the hell is your problem?" Emery's booming voice takes me by surprise. I turn to see my best friend enter the room. I meet his accusatory gaze, which I can't hold.

"You're leaving on top of everything?" he persists in the face of my silence.

"I'm suspended. Not my choice."

He opens his mouth, closes it, then responds, "You brought it on yourself!"

I just shrug. I can't say otherwise. I even dreamed of this moment when I would leave this rat hole...

"But what were you thinking, attacking that guy?"

"He provoked me..."

"And that gave you the right to attack him?"

"He hit me first."

Emery stares at me for a moment, as if trying to determine if I'm telling the truth. He finally lets out a sigh. He pulls his hair back on his head, a sign that he's thinking intensely.

"How long are you kicked out for?" he finally asks.

"What makes you think it's not permanent?"

He shakes his head. "Dude, OMU might be ‘serious’, but you still work miracles with the Jaguars. And football money fucking talks, they're not going to drop you that easily."

"No one is irreplaceable. "

"Well, actually, some guys are harder to replace than others, and you're one of those type."

I can’t help it, I smirk. "Are you trying to flatter me now?"

"Not even in your dreams! You're a total asshole, but you're also talented with a ball…" Emery says before adding, "and you're my friend."

He finished his sentence in a tone that touches me more than I want to admit.

"So, how long?" he insists.

"A month."

Emery nods. "You deserve it."

I don't respond to that.

"Where will you go?"

I haven't even thought about it. This exclusion gives me the opportunity to get far away from here for four weeks, offering me an unexpected reprieve.

"I don't know yet," I finally reply.

"Adams is going to be furious. You'll be in for it when you come back," he warns me.

I just shrug. Emery shakes his head disapprovingly but doesn't add anything else. He stares at me for a moment before turning on his heel. He stops at his doorway, adding, "She's in her room, if you're looking for her."

Then he leaves.

I finish packing my things, and finally, I leave my room. No one speaks to me in the common room. Passing by Dixie's room, I hesitate about what to do.

I have no desire to face Dixie and endure her accusing gaze, but at the same time, I'm furious that she might be with her boyfriend after everything that happened between us.

I don't even knock before entering her room. The door closes behind me, but all I can see is Dixie's swollen face .

Standing on the other side of the room, she returns my gaze in silence.

"I'm leaving," I finally state.

She frowns before wincing from the pain. I can't take my eyes off the bruise spreading across her cheekbone. Guilt claws at my stomach.

"Why did you hit him?" she finally asks.

And I'm stunned into silence. She dares to ask me this question? Does she think I'm made of stone and nothing affects me?

"He didn't deserve it," she says quietly.

This time, I see it in her eyes, that disappointment I never fail to provoke in everyone around me. So I look away, unable to bear it. I should apologize, but the words refuse to leave my lips.

Put your damn ego aside for once!

"Where are you going?"

Her question surprises me. I look up at her, unsure and hurt. "I don't know."

She nods as if responding to a thought, then asks me, "Will you come back?"

"Yes."

My answer seems to relieve her, unless it's just my imagination playing tricks on me.

"Dixie, I..."

Once again, it's impossible for me to say those words she deserves to hear. Her gaze is locked on mine, waiting for a continuation that doesn't come.

All I want is to take her in my arms, kiss her, breathe in her scent and taste her. But that's clearly no longer an option.

I sigh before turning away.

"So that's it? You're not going to explain why you hit Bradley?"

Her question hits me almost more violently than her boyfriend's punches. She thinks I'm responsible for what happened... Without being innocent, I'm not the one who threw the first punch. But I doubt that would change anything in her eyes.

So, I give her the answer she expects from me and reply without turning around:

"What did you expect? I'm just an asshole, right?"

She gasps, but doesn't add anything, and I leave the room like I have the devil at my heels. I grab my bag from the living room, under the heavily reproachful gazes of our roommates.

I don't care what they think of me; anyway, it can't be worse than my own opinion of myself.

As I leave the building, I notice a large black sedan parked by the curb. A figure exits the back seat, and I freeze when I recognize him.

My jaw clenches so tight my teeth grind. Not him, damn it! Not now!

But he's seen me and he's waiting for me to approach him. Almost against my will, my body responds to that silent order, and I realize that Bolton's hold on me is far from gone.

When I get close enough, he opens the door and motions inside with a tilt of his chin. I hesitate for a moment, but every time I face him, I feel like I become that frightened little boy again.

Without thinking, I toss my bag onto the seat before sliding into the car. My father follows me and the door slams behind him.

No wonder Dean Stevens kept me waiting so long before seeing me, he contacted my father, who rushed to come get me. I have no illusions, this isn't a sign of any affection he might feel for me. No, for him, it's a way to control the situation.

A deafening silence reigns in the car as the driver starts the engine and the vehicle pulls away from the curb.

The journey proceeds in a silence you could cut with a knife, but I'm not fooled, I can feel the anger emanating from my father. Even if he doesn't show it, I know his entire being is tense. And I can guess what comes next.

An icy shiver runs down my spine as memories resurface.

There isn't a single pleasant one to cling to.

Not even those with my mother in them. I was too young when she disappeared in a plane crash.

She's presumed dead, and even had a funeral.

We buried an empty coffin in the family crypt.

I never go there. As far as I'm concerned, she's not there.

Perhaps she's the luckiest one in our family when all is said and done, she managed to escape Bolton Boardman, which is no small feat. She just had to die to do it.

After a good hour's drive, we reach my father’s building.

The driver parks the vehicle in the basement reserved for the penthouse owner, near the other cars my father owns.

It's not money he lacks, no, what he desperately lacks is humanity.

There's nothing loving about him, no paternal instinct. Nothing. The man’s most likely a sociopath.

On the other hand, he has many demands, and I know what I'm talking about.

We ride up in the elevator without speaking. The silence seems to thicken as we climb the floors, and by the time we reach the vast entrance hall of the penthouse, I'm almost suffocating.

Suddenly, Bolton pivots toward me, and I don't see the punch coming. His uppercut hits me right in the stomach, and I double over from the impact. The air is forced from my lungs, leaving me breathless. I gasp for air, and this movement causes a sharp pain in my ribs.

Fuck! He must have broken one of my ribs, again.

"Stand up straight."

His voice cracks sharply across the hall.

I obey and lock my gaze with his. What's stopping me from talking back right now?

Nothing, except years of ingrained paralyzing fear.

The same fear I felt as a child when he didn't hesitate to instill his discipline with liberal doses of belt lashes, punches, and sometimes even kicks.

"You disgust me," he spits. "You're not worthy of the Boardman name."

"Then disinherit me."

My provocation only fuels his hatred, and somewhere deep down, I think I'm seeking this burst of anger that's sure to come. Violence is the only relationship I've ever known with my father.

He approaches me, his gaze locked on mine. "You're going to get back on the right track, whether you like it or not."

I clearly sense the threat in his voice, but also in his body language.

"You think getting kicked out of school would solve your problems?" he adds. "Believe me, you have no idea what you've just set in motion."

A shiver of apprehension runs through me. I hate that his threats still affect me.

More than that, I hate him.

My silence doesn't calm him down, quite the opposite. He looks like he's about to explode, and I know all too well what happens then.

"You're going to study until you know your courses inside and out," he states. "And you'll train as well."

I tell myself that my sentence isn't so terrible after all, but Bolton has one last surprise for me. "But first, you're going to take a little trip to Rikers Island detention center."

I shake my head, flabbergasted. “Are you out of your mind? I haven’t been convicted of a fucking thing! No one can send me there!"

His eyes narrow as he watches me, then his lips curl into a malicious smile.

"Come on, son, you should know by now I have the necessary resources.

Until now, I've done everything in my power to keep you out of prison, but I see my mistake now.

" My heart is racing and I'm struggling to catch my breath.

Bolton is perfectly aware of what he's putting me through, and he's enjoying it.

"I hope you make friends there, because if you keep going like this, you'll be spending the next years of your life in prison. "