“I can’t. People will think I’m… Hell. I’m not even gay.” Whit pushed the words out there. He had to have the final word, his voice resonant with disbelief.
Any control Chris had snapped and he saw red. The mist of temper descended so fast there wasn’t time for rational thought and in seconds he had punched Whit back against the wall and then had his hands digging hard into Whit's shoulders.
“You were gay when you were buried inside me, fucking me into tomorrow,”
Chris said. He tightened his grip, Whit trying to push back, a whimper in his throat.
“You were more than fucking gay when you were giving me head.”
“Please… stop…” The word was strangled, quiet. It was nothing in the expanse of the energy and sound inside Chris’s head and he pushed harder. He felt pressure on his shoulder, the force used to pull him off, the curse, and he released his hold, confusion carving through him. Daniel was here? Daniel’s voice was shouting at them, pushing them apart, Chris stumbled back and Whit scrambled for the door, incoherent anger edged with obvious fear.
“Stay here—” Daniel was shouting. No. Talking loud, telling Chris to stay. Chris didn’t have the energy to say anything. He slumped to the floor, adrenaline leaving his body in a rush. What have I done? What am I? Daniel was in his uniform. Daniel was here. Chris’s lover was leaving—running out of the room after Whit. Shit. He had no energy left, not one ounce of emotion other than total despair. He didn’t know how long it was, it could have been seconds or hours, everything blurred, but Ame was there, falling to her knees next to him and pulling him into a close hug. Then it was Daniel who crouched next to him, Daniel who was talking.
He was going. Said he was going.
“Don’t go; I need to explain.” Chris managed to force out the plea, regrets tumbling through him as fast as light at the blank look on Daniel’s face.
“Listen—look at me.” Chris blinked, tried to make it more obvious he was listening, Ame gently stroking his arm. Daniel sounded resigned, devastated. “I’m in uniform. This is official. I can’t stay.” And with that, he left.
* * * *
Daniel caught up with the guy that Chris had his hands on just outside the shop.
Tall, dressed in a suit, and shiny rich, he was exactly the type of person Daniel took to avoiding on his trips back home. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on but he knew Chris. There was something happening here and this preppy suit wearing blond was at the center of it.
“Sir,” he said formally, even though what he really wanted to do was lay him flat on the ground with a single punch. What had happened that has caused Chris to lose it like that?
“Whitman Hamilton-Keyes the third,” the man introduced himself. “You saw what he was doing. He had his hands on me.” Whitman was visibly shaken and his eyes were lit with a maniacal gleam. “Asked to leave his school position because he was coming on to minors. And now this. I’ve been physically assaulted.”
Daniel physically took a step back. Left his school? Because of that? No. That was not true. There had to be another reason.
“I need your name, officer,” Whitman ordered. “I want to press charges.”
“Daniel Bailey,” Daniel said. His chest tightened and he looked horror straight in the face. He was a cop in uniform, still on duty. He had a responsibility to serve the community, whoever they were. He shouldn’t be dealing with this situation any less than completely impartially. He pulled his cell from his pocket and dialed the first name on the list.
“Alex?”
“Daniel, hey.”
“Can you get to that coffee shop on Grand Street? There’s a situation.”
Alex paused. His partner would be home by now with his wife and kid, but Daniel had never asked for anything before, and god help him Chris needed help now.
“I’ll be there in ten,” Alex answered. Daniel ended the call and encouraged Whitman back into the coffee shop to sit at the table closest to the door. He began to take notes as Whitman explained. Words like inappropriate communication, homosexual, kids, school, all twisted in his head until he got them down on paper.
Frankly he wasn’t sure how he wasn’t pushing this arrogant ass to the floor and beating on him. Alex arrived just as he finished taking the statement.
“Daniel?” Alex asked from the door.
“Can you escort Mr Hamilton-Keyes outside? I’ll be with you in a minute.”
To his credit Alex was icily impassive. “Of course.”
Whitman stood and glanced to the back of the coffee shop. He looked tired, and if Daniel wasn’t mistaken, a little angry.
“Daniel?”
He heard Ame’s voice and turned on his heel. She was hugging herself and looking drawn.
“Is Chris okay?” Daniel asked immediately.
“I left him upstairs. He needs to know where you are.”
“I have to go, Ame,” he started. “I have to file the complaint.”
Ame nodded sadly. “You know none of what the school said is actually true?”
She was asking for Daniel to make a decision there and then. The facts he had been given, the evidence he had seen with his own eyes, and the emotion he had in his own heart had to be weighed. There was no other decision he could make.
“Of course I do,” he said. “But I have to go. I have to do this right so I can help him.”
“I know.”
“Tell him goodbye for me.”
Chapter 11
Monday, December 17th
Daniel kept his cool as the principal’s secretary dialed the number and connected.
“Sir, there is a policeman here to see you. One Officer Daniel Bailey… I’ll send him in.” She hung up the phone and raised her eyebrows as she raked a glance up and down Daniel in his uniform. Clearly a beat cop wasn’t really acceptable to be standing at the entrance to her domain. “The Principal will see you now.”
Daniel nodded. He wasn’t here officially, far from it. Although the uniform came with a whole set of responsibilities along with things he could and would not do, one thing he would unashamedly do is use his position as a cop to find out more information to help Chris. Not to mention throwing the weight of his family name around if came to it. He knocked on the door and entered before he heard a “come in”.
The principal was standing with a frown on his face.
“Edmund Voegleson, Principal at Sacred Heart,” he introduced himself, holding out a hand. Daniel shook it firmly. “How can I help you?”
“I’m here about an incident, sir,” Daniel began. He laced the words with fake respect. This was a dangerous game he was playing but he needed this done.
“An incident at the school?” Voegleson looked nervous but the instant reaction was soon covered by an icy control. “Officer, I think you need to talk to Danvers; he is our department liaison and deals directly with local police.”
“I’m not local police, sir. I’m out of New York.”
“The City?”
“Sir. A teacher in your employ…” Daniel paused and pulled a notebook out of his pocket. He didn’t need to look at it; he knew Whitman’s details by heart. It was etched into his head with fire. Seeing Chris pushing the man against the wall with temper in his eyes was enough to scare Daniel into finding out every single damn thing about Whitman Hamilton-Keyes III, Sacred Heart, and the enigmatic principal that ran the school. “The name I have is Whitman Hamilton-Keyes III. I understand he is a teacher of English here?”
“What is this about, officer?”
Daniel pretended to look at his notebook again. “Mr Hamilton-Keyes was involved in an altercation with one Christian Matthews at a café on Grand Street in the City. I understand Mr Matthews was employed here at your school a while back.”
“Yes. He resigned. I don’t understand, officer. Anything that happens off school grounds is not the responsibility of Sacred Heart.”
Daniel pressed on. “I understand there was some kind of trouble here
at the school between these two men?”
“That is a private matter.”
“One that led to Mr Matthews leaving the school? Would this matter be lodged with the local police? I can start there.”
“Wait. It was not a police matter. And the two incidents were not related. Some information came to light concerning Mr Matthews’s private life that led us to believe he was an unsuitable person to be working with children.”
“Information regarding?”
“I don’t think it is appropriate to be discussing this. The matter was dealt with and closed.”
Daniel made a show of making notes in his book. The man was sitting there and dismissing Chris for information coming to light? Daniel knew the information was that Chris was gay. The principal was dismissing this like he was nothing just because he chose to sleep with a man? This was nothing to do with concerns about a relationship.
This was Chris being singled out due to sexual preference and somehow Whitman being painted whiter than white and surviving the fallout.
“I understand Whitman Hamilton-Keyes III is the son of one of the board members here?”
“That is correct. I fail to see how that connects to Mr Matthews.”
“Just a connection that I have to note, sir.” Daniel stood and extended his hand, which Voegleson took immediately. “Thank you for your time.”
“Thank you,” the principal said. He looked slightly bewildered.
“I’ll be sure to pass your comments to the department liaison at the local precinct for when he calls to talk to you regarding the Matthews situation.” He turned to leave.
He even had his hand on the door.
“Officer Bailey?” Daniel turned and waited. “What Matthews’s situation?”
“I spoke to Mr Matthews following the altercation between himself and Mr Hamilton-Keyes. Upon learning that Mr Hamilton-Keyes is bringing charges against him for assault he suggested there was evidence that he would like to bring to light in his defense. He submitted that there is a trail of evidence that could lead to a conviction for an unsafe working environment and some kind of communication that was looked on unfavorably? Of course I wanted to speak to you first as these kinds of problems can quickly get out of hand and lead to lawsuits.”
“He promised that—” Voegleson started but then stopped just as quickly. A mask fell over his face and he visibly regained his composure. “Mr Matthews’s life choices were not ones this school could support at the time. Before you pass anything on to a liaison, please reassure Mr Matthews that the school regrets this original position.
Please add that he is welcome back at the school in a teaching capacity at any time and that should he choose not to return then we’ll be happy to provide suitable references as agreed.”
“I will pass that on, Mr Voegleson. Thank you for your time.”
Daniel left immediately. He felt sick but in a strange way relieved. Making the school aware of what was happening was another step in protecting Chris. If the school backed Chris then Whitman would probably let this whole thing slide.
When he received a message half an hour later he read it with grim satisfaction.
Evidently the school had gone straight to Whitman with what they had just been faced with. It was the final nail in the coffin for any kind of assault charge against Chris.
Daniel hated playing these games, but as the wealthy son of a wealthy son he knew
exactly how these elite schools ran. The text was clear, to the point, and from Whitman himself.
“I’ve considered my response. I will be dropping my charges.”
* * * *
Chris knew within seconds of his lover disappearing out of the door that it was potentially the last time he would ever see him. Coming in and stopping Chris was bound to have been a huge shock. From a man that wouldn’t normally say boo to a goose Chris had sure shown Daniel his darker side. Daniel was a cop, and to have to pull Chris off Whit? That had to be something he needed to follow up in an official way.
It didn’t matter if he was fucking Chris during his off hours. At the end of the day, Whit would press charges and had a freaking material witness in a uniformed cop to back him up.
He could dwell on what Daniel may or may not have heard. It may be that he had heard why Chris had lost it, then again, possibly not. Whatever. The fact the man hadn’t even called, let alone texted, was fairly telling of his take on the whole thing. Ame wanted him to get a lawyer, or in her words, ‘you need to lawyer up.’ It reminded him of the Law and Order episodes he sometimes caught on reruns and seemed overkill for what had actually happened.
Much to Ame’s disgust, he kept working, expecting cops—Daniel even—to come in and arrest him every time the door opened. He was resigned to whatever was going to happen. That same animated reaction finally bubbled over just before the shop opened to early customers.
“Why don’t you call Daniel? At least get some closure? He said he knew it wasn’t you. If he is not contacting you there has to be a reason.” She was mixing a new batch of muffins, dropping fruit, nuts, and chocolate in at random. Chris wondered if she even knew what she was making, she seemed so distracted.
“Closure on what?” he asked quickly. “A few dates and some pity fucks?”
“Chris,” she admonished quickly, “you had something there with him; you were happy.”
“It never really started though, did it? Hell, Ame, it was about as deep and meaningful as a casual one-night stand.”
“Chris—”
“I hardly need closure. Another hot body so I can get over this maybe, but closure on Daniel? No.”
“I’m so sorry, babe.” She sounded damn sad, and it was all he could do not to just break down and ask her to help him. Why was he lying to himself? He wanted to ask Daniel what happened, deep down inside, and he really did want that closure, whatever its cost to him. He needed an end, didn’t want Daniel to hate him. He certainly couldn’t face the thought of ever hating Daniel. If only he could actually verbalize that then maybe it would help. He pulled her into a hug, ignoring her whine of protest and the accompanying flour cloud.
“I have things to decide,” he said, “after Christmas. I can’t stay here forever. I need to do something with this whole freaking mess, sort things out.” If he had the chance that is. If he wasn’t pulled up on charges for some kind of aggravated assault. “If I’m charged and have something against my name I’ll have to think again. Move away.”
And now, with that conversation spinning in his mind, the day was molasses-slow and tedious. People complained in scratchy, whiny voices with no happiness and no pleasure—just another Monday. It appeared that even tourists were bypassing the shop, which was never a good thing as they normally balanced out the grief the men in suits and the women in heels gave him. He listened all day to the New York voices snapping and demanding this coffee made this way and that, and by five he had just about reached his limit of being polite. It wasn’t his life’s dream to be standing in a coffee shop serving shitty customers who didn’t have one ounce of nice in them. This wasn’t what he should be doing with himself.
He took his apron off and climbed the stairs to his room, standing in the door for a short time and looking at what everything had come down to. One small room, his possessions in storage, his accounts depleted, no real job, and now no Daniel. He folded his arms across his chest. He couldn’t move, unable to push past the threshold. Then he felt hands rest on his shoulders. He didn’t startle, he had heard steps behind him, expected and wanted the touch. Only it wasn’t Ame who had followed him upstairs. It was someone taller, broader, harder, the welcome warmth of a strong male body, and with a sigh he realized Daniel was there. Why was Daniel here? To arrest him? Was he alone or had he brought his partners?
Chris said nothing. Selfishly he wanted these last few moments of contact. Leaning back into Daniel, he allowed grief and worry to slide through him. If this was a visit by Daniel to explain why he wasn’t able to s
ee Chris anymore then he wanted to have this last touch of affection before it was all taken away.
Daniel bent to whisper in his ear, his breath warm. “Can we talk?”
Mutely Chris nodded his agreement and Daniel encouraged him into the room, pushing the door closed as he did. For long seconds they stared at each other until Chris broke eye contact and sat on the edge of the bed, which was still disheveled from last night’s abortive attempt to actually get some sleep. Daniel was standing tall, a look of determination on his face.
“I’m sorry—”
“You left—”
They spoke at once, but there was no false society politeness in letting the other go first as a tumble of words spilled from Daniel. At first it was hard to keep up.
”… went after him, told him to stay downstairs, got him coffee. I was in uniform; I had to deal with it like a cop. Chris, please. Can you understand why I couldn’t leave it?
I got him to talk; he told me what had happened. Then I pushed, and he told me more than he realized. Shit, Chris, why didn’t you tell me? I could have maybe helped. As it was, I tracked down some bits, followed it through, I went to Sacred Heart—”
“You went to the school?” Chris buried his head in his hands as shame flooded through him.
“I had to make it official. I saw what happened here—I was on duty—that made it official.” Daniel dropped to a crouch in front of him. Chris felt his whole life slipping away from him. He was going to be pulled up on charges by the school and he was going to be labeled as something he wasn’t.
“No—Daniel—I promised them I wouldn’t take it further, it was the only thing that stopped them from pressing charges—”
“Pressing charges with what, babe?” Daniel interrupted. “They had nothing, they have nothing. They near admitted that the reason they asked for your resignation was the embarrassment of having an outed gay teacher at their goddamn fifty-thousand-a-year private school.”
New York Christmas Page 7
