I dug my elbow into his side and wiggled my eyebrows at him. “They think I’m your boyfriend.”
He gave me a quizzical look then lifted his gaze to meet the curious ones watching us. I thought he would move to put some distance between us, that he would shift uncomfortably. Stark was a man who exuded masculinity and he was surrounded by men who were the same. I couldn’t imagine any of them standing for having their sexuality or vitality called into question, especially by a bunch of nosey strangers, but Stark didn’t seem phased by it. In fact, he moved so that his arm was behind me on the seat and lowered his head so that his lips almost touched my ear.
“I’m sorry that you felt like I was shutting you out. I get focused on a task and lose track of the real world. I didn’t mean to ignore you or make you feel like you aren’t a part of this, but I can’t stand the idea of Goddard getting his hands on you again.” I felt the tip of his tongue touch my ear and it made my entire body shiver under the layers of clothing I was wearing. “He’s never going to be able to put his hands on anyone again when we’re done with him. If you feel like you need to take steps to make that happen, then talk to me, smack me upside the head, stomp on my foot, or maybe pull all your clothes off and stand in front of me so I can’t ignore what’s happening around me. I’m here to walk with you, not force you to go around me.” His fingers squeezed the back of my neck and I had to close my eyes and force myself not to lean into him.
“I was wondering if you would notice if I got naked.” I meant it as a joke but there was a thread of uncertainty in my tone I couldn’t hide.
He swore under his breath and leaned over so that his forehead was resting against my temple. “It might take me a minute because my mind is like a spider web, tangled and sticky. It’s a trap, and once something is caught up in there, it’s hard to get it free. I noticed you from the start, Noe. I see you, even when you’re dressed like a boy.”
His mind was like a spider web, beautiful, complex, and deadly. I couldn’t stop the little thrill that raced through my veins at the thought of being caught up in those silken, delicate threads that made this man impossible to handle and hard to forget. “I appreciate you wanting me to be safe, but that’s not something I’ve ever been.” Living a life on the run was never benign. “I’ve learned a lot of tricks in my years on the streets. The least I can do is make sure kids like me know all my tricks, so they can learn from my mistakes.” There was no Robin Hood in the Point. No one was showing up to steal from the rich and give to the poor, so those of us who were poor and were going to remain poor had to stick together.
His breath was hot and tickled the side of my neck. I had to bite back a sigh as I gave a nasty look to an older woman seated a few seats ahead of us, watching us with unblinking disgust. If I really were a gay man and Stark really were my boyfriend, I would be super annoyed at the obvious judgment and censure on her wrinkled face.
“We don’t have to be what we’ve always been. Sometimes it’s important to change, to learn how to be something better.” The words were sweet, but they were also smart. He couldn’t help being sharp and painfully insightful. I only wished he could apply it to himself, as well.
“And sometimes this is as good as it’s going to get and that has to be enough.” You took what little you had and made do.
He cocked an eyebrow and sat back in the narrow seat, something dark and hard to read floating through the hurricane that blew through his eyes. “And sometimes you find the person who makes you want more, and you have to decide how much you’re willing to give.”
Damnit. He always had an answer for everything and a knack for making me question what I’d always thought I’d known. This was exactly why I never asked for help or let anyone else in. Once they had a piece of you, they thought they were entitled to the whole damn pie. I didn’t want to think about how hot and liquid the idea of feeding someone so clearly starving for affection and a connection made me.
Nope. I wasn’t going to think about connecting with Snowden Stark at all.
Stark
“More bad news for our currently embattled mayor.”
I looked at the TV as Booker turned up the volume. The pretty news anchor had a practiced look of concern on her face as she prattled on about Goddard.
“After an anonymous source sent several concerning documents to the voters of this city and various members of the press, there was a resounding call for mayor Jonathan Goddard to release his financials and justify where he was spending our tax dollars. On the heels of the outrage over the misuse of government funds, an alarming look at Goddard’s taxes was also released and quickly spawned an intensive investigation by the IRS. The mayor was forced to resign from his position during the ongoing investigation. He claims it’s all a misunderstanding, that someone is setting him up, but the police can find no evidence of a computer hack.”
There was no evidence. Titus had gone above and beyond his original agreement to help me get into Goddard’s computer. The detective went back in after I had what I needed and wiped away any sign that I’d ever been there. He liked rattling Goddard. Liked putting the man on edge. He wanted the people playing dirty to know he was on to them. He wanted them to be afraid . . . just like the people who called the city they ruined home. He was coming for them and wasn’t shy about sharing that fact. The house of cards was starting to fall, and Titus was getting a kick out of watching everyone scramble to clean up the mess.
The footage on the screen shifted to the media circus surrounding Goddard as he was escorted out of City Hall. He had his pale, thin hands over his face, but there was no missing his scowl or the stiff set to his shoulders. Flash bulbs illuminated his papery skin, making him look fragile and weak. I wanted to feel satisfied in a job well done, but I didn’t. This wasn’t even close to the bastard suffering enough.
“In the wake of the financial scandal, you might think things couldn’t get much worse for the former, beloved mayor. However, today, in an alarming turn of events, several recordings featuring young, underage women who utilized Goddard’s pet project in the Point, an after-school program designed to help at-risk youths, came forward with the shocking accusation that Goddard had inappropriate relations with them. Many of the young women are under the age of sixteen and claim the abuse started when they were barely teenagers. The recordings have not been verified at this time, but we, here at Channel 13 News, are actively looking for any accusers willing to substantiate the claims. Goddard’s attorney refutes the women as vultures looking for a payday. He claims that tapes are fabricated and untrue. That the young women are just looking to capitalize on the former mayor’s current legal woes. This is an ongoing investigation that we will be following until the conclusion. The police have opened an investigation and are looking for anyone to come forward and file a formal complaint against Jonathan Goddard.”
Booker snagged the remote and turned the channel when the anchor went on to ramble about the weather the next day. It was going to be shitty. It was always shitty in the Point.
He leaned back on the couch and lifted his arms over his head, stretching out his big body. He’d been popping by the loft a lot the last few days. At first I was annoyed, thinking he didn’t believe I could keep Noe safe on my own. I thought he was checking up on me. I quickly realized that his sudden desire to hang out had nothing to do with us and everything to do with the fact Race and his girl were back, and Booker was going out of his way to avoid the fair-haired duo. His apartment was much closer to theirs. He was hiding out.
I didn’t ask him why. I figured if he wanted me to know, he would tell me, and I didn’t mind his presence. It was a solid buffer between me and the tiny hurricane that was blowing my entire life apart. She’d been moody and unpredictable ever since we left that dilapidated building that held Goddard’s dirtiest secrets. She told me she needed time, that listening to what Goddard did to those girls, the way he collected them, bribed them, and hurt them, forever changing them, did something to her. Some of her fight was missing. A good chunk of her defiance was gone. Instead of telling me everything that was wrong with the world, she’d gone silent and seemed buried underneath a mountain of damage. Watching others bleed had opened her old wounds and they were festering, weeping, and leaking out the kind of poison that could kill anything good. I’d been giving her space to work through it. Taking the coward’s way out. Again, I figured if she wanted me to know what was working through her head and her heart, she would tell me so I could help figure it all out. She had to know I would never shut the door on her again.
She got the girls to talk to her, to tell her their stories, but she couldn’t convince a single one of them to come forward and press charges against the asshole who stole their innocence and childhood. They were scared of backlash. They were terrified someone would make them pay back the measly monetary amount Goddard had forked over to keep them quiet. Now, instead of needing to stop Goddard for what he’d done to Julia Grace and to her, she felt like she needed to stop him for all those girls who would never get to have their own taste of revenge. She was consumed by it. She got up and stomped out of the room as soon as the story was over; I could tell she didn’t feel like Goddard’s fall from grace was far enough down, either.