Page 25 of Disciplinary Action
“Well, that’s a first. Have you tried registering at the shelter? They might be able to set you up at the church. They sometimes have programs for homeless diabetics.”
“Can’t wait,” Cal muttered. “Need it now. I could die.”
There was a long pause. “Should I call an ambulance for you?”
Cal’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head violently, groaning as the world tilted on its axis. What would that bill look like? He couldn’t even afford medication, much less an actual ambulance or a hospital stay. “No. I-I have somebody I can call. A friend.” He pulled his flip phone free, showing it to the officer. “Can I just please wait here until he comes?” he lied.
Something in Cal’s tone must have sounded insincere because the officer narrowed his eyes at him. “Let’s just wait and see if somebody’s coming for you first, kid.”
Disappointment settled deep in Cal’s bones. There were only two numbers in the phone. Bastian and one saved without a name. Daddy. He couldn’t call Bastian. He couldn’t remember why, but calling Bastian was bad. Calling Daddy was probably bad, too. Gideon. Daddy Gideon. What choice did he have? It only rang once. “Callum?”
Cal’s heart did something funny in his chest at the concern in Gideon’s voice. When he went to speak, his voice cracked, ending in a sob. “I think I’m in trouble, Daddy.”
There was a sharp inhalation. “Where are you, baby? You don’t sound right. Why are you slurring your words? Are you alone?”
“I think I made a mistake,” he managed before the phone slipped from his fingers.
The dog licked at the tears on his face, but he was no longer capable of anything but just lying there. His arms and legs were weighed down by heavy stones, and his brain felt bruised and swollen.
The officer picked up his phone. “Hello? This is Officer Marshall, who am I speaking with?”
Cal didn’t know what Gideon said. He wouldn’t be surprised if he just hung up and pretended they didn’t know each other. This could definitely ruin everything for him. Gideon was Cal’s headmaster. Bastian was his friend. He ran those two statements over and over for fear of losing those facts again. His memories were slipping away, his thoughts falling out like sand through a colander. He liked Gideon so much. Enough to blackmail him. Something twisted inside him.
“What do you want me to do about his dog?” Cal heard the officer ask. “Yes, sir. The Galleria Mall. West Entrance. Are you sure you want me to call them?”
Gideon wanted the officer to call somebody else. Cal had no idea why it hurt so much. They didn’t even know each other. At all. Three rough sexual encounters did not make a random stranger responsible for his survival. Especially when the only reason Gideon had even punished Cal again was because of blackmail. Cal was so desperate for any kind of touch he’d literally blackmailed his headmaster into fucking him. His whole body felt like it was on fire. The dog whined, blanketing himself over Cal’s body.
In the distance, Cal could hear sirens. Gideon had told them to simply call the ambulance and take him away. Part of him thought maybe it would’ve been better if he had never called Gideon at all. Then he could have at least pretended. He found it was impossible to open his eyes, but that probably didn’t matter anymore. He focused on the dog pushing his head up under his chin.
“Callum!”
Gideon.The dog growled low. “Shh, he’s okay, boy,” Cal mumbled.
“Jesus, how long has he been like this? What happened to his jacket? His shoes?” Gideon sounded angry. Really angry. But not with Cal. With the officer. He wasn’t mad at Cal. He sighed.
“Sir, I’m going to need you to calm down. I only found him like this about ten minutes before I called you. Didn’t anybody notice he was missing?”
Gideon’s voice went cold as ice. “Of course, we noticed. He was ill with a stomach bug yesterday. I dropped him at his home. I assumed he’d decided to stay home today.”
Today? But Gideon had dropped Cal off just a few hours ago, hadn’t he? The officer had said Wednesday, not Tuesday. Had Cal been lying there for two days? Why couldn’t he remember?
Rough hands pulled him close. “Callum. When was the last time you ate? Where are your meds?”
“You came,” Cal said, still unable to pry his eyes open but trying to smile so Gideon knew he was grateful. “I’m sorry.” There was a commotion and the sound of doors opening and metal clamoring, and then the dog was growling once more. “Don’t let them hurt him,” Cal begged Gideon. “He’s a good boy.”
“Come here, boy,” Gideon commanded, tone leaving no room for argument. A moment later, Gideon crooned, “That’s it. Good boy.” Cal shivered.
“Sir, do you know this man?” a female voice asked. “What can you tell us? Parents? Next of kin?”
“He’s my student. Callum Whyte. He’s nineteen years old. Mother deceased, father’s…out of the picture. He’s a type one diabetic, and I don’t know when he had his last dose of insulin, and he seems unable to answer. He has no next of kin that I’m aware of, but as his headmaster, I’ve tried to keep a close watch over him.”
Cal groaned as a finger pulled up his eyelid and shined a light in his eye. “Pupils reactive to light.” There was a sound like buttons flying and then sticky pads pressed to his chest and belly, and then he was flying into the air, landing roughly on a cloud. “He’s tachy. BP is ninety over forty.”
“What hospital are you taking him to?” Gideon asked.
“Asheville General.”
“Shit, Cap. His glucose is maxing out the machine. His breath smells like rotten fruit, his membranes are dry, and his skin is tenting. I think he’s in DKA,” the female voice said.
