Page 58 of Forbidden

Franklin West University

I swallow hard. Sensitive matter? What the hell does that mean? A loud noise jolts me in my seat and I shove back away from the desk as I realize it’s an incoming video call. I didn’t accept the invite, so they’re dialing me in.Fuck.

As much as I want to hide under the desk, I know West will find me eventually, so I smooth down my hair and straighten my shirt, sitting up straight at my desk before accepting the call.

“Coach McMann,” West says, her dark pink smile thin and dangerous. “Thank you for joining us.”

My own smile is tight, and I try not to wince as I spot my picture in the bottom corner. I look like death warmed up. My eyes are pink and swollen, my nostrils are red and, despite my best efforts, my hair looks a mess.

“A pleasure,” I say, willing calm into my voice. “I’m curious to hear what this meeting is about.”

West’s smile thins further. “Have you met Megan before, Doug?”

I shake my head, offering the stern looking blonde woman on the other half of the screen a small smile. “Not in person, no. Nice to meet you, Megan.”

She just nods, and I notice her mic is on mute. My pulse kicks up a notch. HR is just here to witness this call.Fuck.Am I about to get fired? Do they know about Aldo? Do they know about Joy?Shit.Did Lane rat me out?

Panic trickles into my blood, thickening and swirling as my grip tightens on the sides of the iPad. If I lose this job, I have literally nothing. The only friends I have in the world are here at Franklin West. If I lose the job, I also lose the right to stay in the US and I really, really don’t want to go back to England for good.

“Doug,” West says, her voice softening just a little. “I have received an extremely worrying allegation.”

It takes everything I have to keep my face neutral, my eyebrows raising in question. “Oh?”

West picks up a pair of expensive looking glasses and perches them on her nose, peering at a piece of paper in front of her. “You were witnessed physically assaulting Lane Masters, your assistant coach, this weekend.”

My eyebrows really do shoot up then. There’s no way Joy or Aldo would have gone to West about me. Is there?

“They say that you were in a nightclub in Portland, and you spoke to him briefly, then assaulted him before leaving.”

My mind spins. Whoever it is that went to West decided not to mention that Masters was making out with a student right before I punched him. I almost open my mouth to say just that—to paint myself as the hero—but I stop myself just in time. Aldo would never forgive me. And as much as I don’t regret punching him in the face even a little bit, I don’t want to get Masters sacked.

“Doug?” West presses, and I realize I’ve been silent for way too long. “Do you have anything to say?”

I honestly don’t have a fucking clue. If I lie and then they find footage or something, I’m fucked. If I tell the truth, I might find myself sacked.

“Masters and I had a disagreement,” I say cautiously. “But we’ve cleared the air since then.”

West sighs and takes off her glasses, folding them and placing them down on the desk in front of her. “We’re going to have to look into this allegation further. Whether you are on campus or off campus, you carry the Franklin West name with you. You represent our college with both your words and your actions.”

I nod, my leg bouncing uncontrollably under the desk.

“With that in mind, I’m going to have to suspend you from your role for two weeks while we investigate. Effective immediately.”

I swallow, trying not to throw the iPad across the room. “I was actually about to go and see Dean Mason about some compassionate leave. There’s been a death in my family, and I need to go back to England.”

West nods. “Excellent. Email my assistant with the details and we’ll arrange a meeting for when you return.”

Before I can react to the fact that she just referred to the death of the only person on the planet who genuinely cared about me as ‘excellent’, the call ends and I’m left with nothing but my own tearstained face staring back at me.

Grimacing, I switch the tablet off and hold my head in my hands. Every time I remember that Nan’s gone, a fresh wave of pain and guilt slams into me. There was a time I’d call her every week, but the longer I spent here and the older she got, the time difference never seemed to match up and it got easier and easier to let the days and months slip by. I don’t remember the last time I spoke to her, and that guilt will sit heavy on my soul until I take my last breath. She deserved so much better.

She was the one who I went to after school, because my parents were never home. She was the one who made sure I was fed and clothed. When my uniform started falling apart, Nan was the one who’d patch up my jumpers and trousers to get a little more life out of them. She was also the one who never pushed me to swim. When my parents got caught up in the excitement of having a son they could brag about to all their friends, Nan just sat back and watched—quietly supportive. So many times, she told me I could achieve any dream I wanted, and if swimming wasmydream, she was happy for me.

And now she’s gone.

Tears track down my already salted cheeks. I can’t shake the feeling that every decision I’ve made recently is digging me deeper and deeper into a hole, and I can’t seem to find my way out of it. Maybe I need a fresh start. The problem is, I don’t really know how to do anything that’s not swimming. It’s been my entire life.

Grabbing my passport and my wallet, I wipe away my tears. I need to go and pack. When I reach the door, I pause, looking around my office and feeling nothing but a heaviness in my soul. Maybe I shouldn’t bother coming back.

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