“He didn’t seduce me,” Greg snapped.
“Bribed you, then?”
What had Dale bribed Greg with? He didn’t know. Sex? The baby? He’d never understood what Greg had seen in him.
“He’s my omega,” Greg snarled. “I don’t need anyone bribing me.”
“Your omega? Kinney said it himself—his alpha is Charles.” Bernard’s mustache quivered. Across the living room, he cut a broad, domineering figure, and Dale felt like cowering. Bernard looked down his nose. “What of the baby, Kinney? Whose is it? Or don’t you know?”
Dale’s cheeks scorched so hot his skin might’ve peeled. He wanted to hide his face. Burrow into a hole and pretend this never happened. He wanted to be somewhere far away, so he wouldn’t have to hear his boss putting him down in front of Greg.
“Don’t you fucking say that about Dale. The baby is mine,” Greg growled, low and dangerous, his fists clenched. “Charles is his ex.”
“So that was a lie? And how do you know he hasn’t been lying to you as well?” Bernard spared Dale a glance. Then he raised a challenging eyebrow. “You see just as clearly as I do—there are bonding marks on his skin.”
“I’m divorced,” Dale said quietly, closing his eyes. He needed someone to shoot him, or kill him, take him away from here. “The baby is Greg’s.”
Greg stepped closer to Dale, the heat of his body radiating through the space between them. “You heard him. The baby’s mine. You’re not touching him.”
Bernard stepped closer, his mustache bristling. He looked at Dale like Dale was scum on the bottom of his shoe, and Dale wanted to shrivel up and wither away. “If the fetus is yours, then it’ll have to go. You will not be seeing Kinney again. He’s fired.”
Dale swayed.
The words rang in his head, loud and clanging like a death knell. He was fired. Just like that, he’d lost his job, and he didn’t know which was more embarrassing—telling his students, or packing his things from his office. Or meeting Bernard’s gaze, scorn blazing in the college president’s eyes.
“What the hell? You can’t do that,” Greg snapped, baring his teeth. “You can’t fire him.”
“He breached the most important rule,” Bernard said, meeting Dale’s eyes. Dale wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. “You don’t engage the students in sexual activity. Anyone found guilty will be terminated immediately.”
“I forced it on him,” Greg said, his voice low with fury. “I bribed him. Leave him out of this.”
“Then he should have reported it to the Dean.” Bernard’s nostrils flared, his features twisting into a scowl. “You are a disgrace, Gregory. And Kinney—I have no words for you, except to say I wish you had never been hired.”
Dale held onto the couch, trying to stay upright. He couldn’t collapse right now. Couldn’t let Bernard Hastings see how weak he was.
“Gregory, you’re moving back in with me. Your education will be terminated otherwise—”
“Fuck my education,” Greg said, stepping forward. “I’m not obeying your backward rules.”
Dale’s nails dug into the couch, sweat coating his palms. He couldn’t let this play out, not when Greg’s future was at stake. It was bad enough that Greg and his father were tearing each other apart because of him. He couldn’t stay and continue to ruin Greg’s life, couldn’t drag him down with a baby.
“I’m leaving,” Dale blurted. “Greg, you’re not my alpha.”
Greg froze, staring incredulously at him. “No.”
“Yes,” Dale said, fumbling with his clothes. “Don’t follow me, please. Move your things out of my apartment by tomorrow.”
Greg’s jaw went slack. Then, as though he thought this was a ploy to deceive his father, he relaxed. “Okay.”
Dale shook his head. “No, I mean it. Return my key.”
Greg blinked. Dale met his eyes, holding his hand out. For a moment, Greg stared at him, his gaze raking over Dale’s face. Dale left himself open, let Greg read the despair he felt. And horror flickered through Greg’s eyes. “You can’t—”
“Yes. This is over. Listen to your father.”
To the side, Bernard Hastings watched them, his eyes narrowed, his arms folded across his chest.
Dale found the opening of his pants, stepping into them. He didn’t want to know what Bernard Hastings thought about his pasty thighs, his half-naked body. He tugged his shirt down, the material too thin to hide him away. “The key, please.”
“You promised—”
“I promised nothing,” Dale said. His chest ached. “The key.”
Greg searched his gaze, but Dale looked away, his eyes burning. This had to stop. He was fired, and he needed to quit ruining Greg’s life. Needed to find his footing again, find a job somewhere that didn’t involve this scandal. Would the Dean even give him a decent reference?
“You can’t go anywhere,” Greg said, slowly slipping his hand into his pocket. “It’s not—not easy for you to find another job.”
Dale closed his eyes, wanting to cry. He knew he was old. They couldn’t be having this conversation in front of Bernard Hastings, not like this. “I’ll manage.”
“The baby is mine! I promised I’d care for it.”
“No. Please.” Dale breathed in. He couldn’t break down. He still had shreds of his pride left.
Greg turned to his father, his eyes beseeching. “Dad. You can’t fire him. He’s been adding to the reputation of your college, damn it! Haven’t you seen his lab? His students?”
Bernard Hastings studied him, then Dale, and Dale needed to get out of this suffocating place right now.
“I may consider it if the fetus is aborted,” Bernard said, glancing at Dale’s belly. “I will have no scandal connected to Meadowfall College, Gregory. I’ve spent twenty damn years building it up, and I will not see it fall.”
“We’re not aborting it,” Greg said, pulling his hand from his pocket. “Dale—”
Dale pressed his hand to his abdomen, to protect his child from them. He wasn’t losing his baby. Not now, when he’d wanted it for two decades. “I’ll send in my resignation letter first thing tomorrow,” he said. “I’m deeply sorry about this.”
When
