“You know I can’t do that,” I said quietly.
“Pretend you can,” he whispered.
“Okay,” I agreed. Far too easily. “Okay.”
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.”
