Chapter Sixteen
Patience
My eyes sprang open to the Williamsport skyline in front of me, through the window. And as breathtaking as the view was it didn’t compare to the feeling of Aaron’s warm breath against the column of my neck, as he leaned over me. His large hand found its way into the black dress pants I’d worn to work that day. My head fell back against his shoulder when the pad of his finger brushed over my distended clit.
“You remember that first time?” he said low in my ear. “I’d put it off. I was trying to save you from this. From me. But I couldn’t stay away from you.”
I couldn’t comprehend his words due to my brain being fogged up by the sensations he was causing in my body. I pressed my hand firmly against the glass of the window, my hips moving closer, trying to get some sort of reprieve.
“You were mine from the very first night.”
I moaned when he pinched my clit between his thumb and forefinger. “W-we can’t,” I managed to get out. “This is y-your office.”
“You think there’re any limitations on where I take you? Or how?” His hand moved from my pussy lips, over my hip to grab the flesh of my ass. A tingle moved through my core at the remembrance of my first, and only, anal sexual experience.
Somehow I managed to find the strength to get a grip on reality. I grabbed his hand by the wrist, freeing it from my pants and turning to him. A sensation of fear mixed with anticipation moved through me when I turned to see his downcast eyes, staring at my hand covering his wrist.
“You’re going to pay fo–” His reprimand was cut off my his ringing phone.
Saved by the bell, I thought, sighing. A minute later and there was a very good chance I would’ve found myself bent over his desk, ass exposed, being paddled. I wouldn’t put it past him to have a paddle in his office.
“This better be fucking important!” he barked into the phone.
I shook my head. He was such an ass. An ass you’ve never stopped loving. I closed my eyes to the truth of that statement.
“Put her through,” he demanded, removing the phone from his ear and pressing the button to put the call on speaker.
Sensing he wanted me to hear the conversation as well, I went over to his desk, peering down at the phone.
“Mr. Townsend, it’s Mrs. Jamison from Excelor Academy.”
My heart rate quickened. The children.
“I’ve left a message on Mrs. Townsend’s cell.”
“What happened?”
“What’s wrong?”
Aaron and I blurted out at the same time.
“Kyle and Kennedy and their cousin, Diego. They’re fine but they got into a fight.”
“With each other?” I questioned. That didn’t make any sense. The twins loved Diego and he them.
“Not quite. The three of them got into a fight with another student.”
My eyes ballooned as I looked toward Aaron, whose usual scowl was back in place.
“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” he stated before pressing the button to end the call.
“You could’ve given her more time to explain what happened,” I chided.
“She can explain once I’m standing in her office.” He picked up the phone and called Daniel to have the car ready to take us to Excelor, right before informing Mark that he needed to leave for the next hour. Ten minutes later we were in the car, on our way to the school. I knew as soon as we arrived my husband would be like a raging bull. I just prayed no one ended up on the wrong end of his horns.
****
“What happened?!” Aaron demanded as soon as we passed through the door’s of the main office.
“Daddy! Mommy!” Kennedy yelled, running up to us in her usual effusive manner.
“Are you okay? Where’s your brother?’ I questioned, placing her back down, after picking her up to hug.
“Right there.” She turned and pointed to the far wall where a sullen looking Kyle and Diego sat next to one another.
“Kyle, Diego, are you guys hurt?”
“No,” they both answered in unison, shaking their heads.
“You were fighting?” Aaron asked, coming up behind me.
I watched as the boys’ eyes grew big.
“Yes, but–”
“Yes, but?” Aaron asked, interrupting Kyle.
“Mr. and Mrs. Townsend.”
I turned to see an average height, middle-aged woman walking toward us.
“Mrs. Jamison, what happened?” I asked.
“Please, step into my office. Mrs. Townsend, Diego’s mother,” she amended, realizing there was more than one Mrs. Townsend in this scenario, “is on her way. She should be here shortly, along with the other little boy’s father.”
“Kennedy, go sit by your brother,” I urged her toward the open chair next to Kyle, while Aaron and I followed Mrs. Jamison to her office.
“Why don’t you explain what happened while we wait for everyone else.” Aaron started in on Mrs. Jamison before she even had a chance to close her door fully. He planted his feet, folding his arms over his chest, staring the principal down.
“You said they got into a fight?” I questioned, drawing her fearful eyes from my husband to myself.
“They jumped on another little boy.”
“My children aren’t violent,” Aaron insisted.
I looked from him to the principal. “He means, they have never been in a fight before. I find it difficult to wrap my head around Kyle and Kennedy, let alone Diego, just ganging up on another child.”
A knock sounded at the door and a second later, Michelle opened it, entering.
“Hey,” she acknowledged Aaron and I. “Mrs. Jamison, what happened? I got a call saying the kids fought someone?”
“Mrs. Jamison was just about to explain how that’s even possible,” Aaron urged.
I watched as Michelle gave Aaron that same wary look most people did.
“Yes.” The principal nodded. “I wanted to wait until the other little boy’s parents were here, but since you three are already here, I will explain. It seems Kyle got into a disagreement with a boy from another class and Diego stepped in to defend Kyle. It got heated just as the kindergarteners were leaving from recess and the second and third graders were coming in. Kyle, Diego, and the boy began fighting, and one of the teachers stated she saw Kennedy run into the fight to kick the other boy.”
I had to tamp down on the pride I felt hearing Kennedy went to defend her brother in a fight. I was a parent and shouldn’t be encouraging that type of behavior.
“Was this boy in Kyle’s class?” Aaron asked.
“No. He was one of the third graders.”
“He’s in Diego’s class?” Michelle questioned.
“Same grade but different class.”
“And they got into a disagreement?” I could hear Aaron’s anger growing as he pieced the story together.
I reached out, wrapping my arm around his elbow.
“Mrs. Jamison, you’re saying that a third grader was picking on Kyle, a kindergartener, and none of the teachers bothered to stop it, so his older cousin had to step in? And when it escalated into a physical altercation my son’s sister also intervened? Do I have that right?” My own anger was rising.
“Well, I w-wouldn’t put it like that?” she stuttered as she looked between the three of us.
“Then how would you put it?” Michelle questioned.
“And who is this other little boy? What was he saying to Kyle? Where are his parents?” I shot the questions rapid fire.
As if in response to my questions, another man came charging through the door. I turned and squinted, realizing this man looked awfully familiar.
“Mr. McCloud,” Mrs. Jamison commented.
“McCloud?” Aaron questioned. “As in Wallace McCloud of McCloud renovations?”
I blinked remembering Wallace Jr. from my high school days.
“I was just explaining to the Townsends–”
“How their damn kids beat up my boy?” Wallace seethed. “He has a black eye and busted lip from those damn mongrels!”
“Oh God!” I yelped when in less than two steps, Aaron was in Wallace’s face, hand wrapped around his throat. This scene was eerily familiar.
“Two things,” Aaron stated through gritted teeth. “Don’t ever in your pitiful life refer to my children or my nephew in such terms. And two, if we weren’t in this office right now I’d show you exactly how much of a mongrel their father is.”
“Aaron, please,” I whispered, going up to tug at his arm. “Our children are right outside.”
Slowly Aaron loosened his grip and stepped back from Wallace. I took his hand in mine, pulling him closer to me, and farther away from Wallace.
“And what exactly did his child say that caused Kyle to respond so negatively?” Aaron turned to Mrs. Jamison to ask.
Her eyes shifted from Aaron to myself and then over to Wallace, who was now standing in the far corner of the room.
“To my understanding, there were some derisive comments made about Kyle’s reading ability.”
Aaron’s hand tightened around mine. I bit the inside of my cheek as my heart plummeted.
“Was this the first incident?”
“No, I don’t think so, Mrs. Townsend.”
“You don’t think so?” Aaron repeated condescendingly.
She swallowed and shook her head. “According to Diego and Kyle, this has been an ongoing issue since the first week of school.”
“Un-fucking-believable,” Aaron blurted. “The school year is a month old. So, this has been going on for weeks then?”
“Mr. Townsend, I understand—”
“You understand what? That you allowed my son to be bullied. Didn’t tell either one of his parents and only waited until a physical altercation occurred, which by the way, you framed as our children jumping another boy. When the truth was my son was defending himself against a child who is three years older than himself?” Aaron’s voice rose with each question he asked. He stepped forward, planting his fists onto the principal’s desk. “Let me explain something to you, Mrs. Jamison. I went to this school. My wife went to this school. We put our children here because Excelor has the reputation of being one of the highest ranking academies in the state. But I promise you if anything like this ever happens again, I will shut this all down!”
He stepped back, pulled me by the hand to the door, holding it open for both Michelle and I, giving Wallace—who’d remained silent—one last glare before slamming it shut.
“Are we in trouble, Mommy?” Kyle asked, using the most pitiful face he could. My entire heart caught in my throat. I always feared a day like this was inevitable.
“Hey, what happened?”
I turned to see Carter, dressed in his firefighter overalls, running toward us as we stepped into the hallway.
“We were on a call. Diego, are you okay?” He bent low, checking over the little boy who was obviously so much more than just his stepson. Technically, Diego was Carter’s son, since he’d adopted him.
“He’s fine.” Michelle went on to explain everything to Carter. He became just as pissed as his brother.
“These two.” Michelle grinned looking at me and gesturing toward our husbands.
I rolled my eyes. “Right? Who the hell wants to deal with not one but two angry Townsends?”
“Not me,” she laughed.
“Mama, can we get ice cream with my cousin?”
“Yes, Mommy, please!” Kyle and Kennedy shouted, backing up Diego’s request.
“No!” Michelle and I both answered.
“Why not?” Carter asked, looking confused.
“They just got into a fight,” I explained.
“And?”
My mouth fell open as I looked at Aaron.
“It was self-defense,” Carter added.
Michelle and I glanced at one another, shaking our heads. These men were impossible. We put the kids in the car.
“You all right?” I asked Michelle, noticing she was holding her stomach.
“Yeah, just a stomach bug, I think. I was taking half a day at work anyway today to rest.”
“You want us to take Diego so you can rest?”
She shook her head. “Carter’s taking the rest of the day off, so I’ll be good. Those two are like peas in a pod.”
“All right. Talk to you later.” I went over to the awaiting car and climbed in the door that Aaron held open.
On the way back home, I had to explain to not only the children but their father as well that we would not be stopping for ice cream. Even though what happened was a form of self-defense on Kyle’s behalf, there were still better ways to have handled the situation. I was adamant about only promoting physical violence when and where necessary. I didn’t know who wore the biggest pout—Kennedy, Kyle, or Aaron.