Chapter Twenty-Two
Malik
“It’s snowing.” I gazed through the slats of my blinds.
Usually I closed them when bedtime came, but I’d had the feeling snow was coming, and I loved nothing more than to lie in bed, in the dark, and to watch the snow swirling around the streetlamp.
We didn’t get much snow in the Lower Mainland.
A few days a year. Snow days when school was canceled were even rarer.
Spencer, who lay on the far side of the bed, away from the window, propped himself up on his elbow so he could see over me. “Yeah, that’s so cool. I hope I don’t have a problem getting home to Moses in the morning.”
“Or to the lawyer’s office.” I tried to keep my tone neutral.
“You’re worried.”
I shrugged nonchalantly—even though my gut churned. “We’ll see what she has to say. Pauletta sent her a digital copy tonight, and she emailed me that she received it. I sort of feel guilty that she’s looking it over tonight—”
“You pay her a lot of money.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, we do. She’s worth every penny. She’s a shark. Unlike you.”
“I don’t know how to take that statement.”
“You’re a teddy bear.”
He pressed his body against mine. His cock, although flaccid, pressed against my hip. How difficult would it be to arouse him again? We’d already gone at it twice tonight. I wasn’t sated. I was never sated when it came to Spencer.
And that scared me just a little bit.
“Reese’s message came through after you fell asleep.” I gazed over at him, tearing my eyes away from the falling snow. “That’s five for five. If the lawyer approves.”
Slowly, he nodded. “She might make some suggestions, but Pauletta made it clear very little was negotiable. I’ve never heard of a band hiding away for seven months.”
“We’re a rock band—we do weird shit. Carson…he’s the best there is.”
“Interestingly, Pauletta never clarified whether she sought him out or he sought her out.”
“You mean why he didn’t just present us the offer himself?”
“Yeah.”
I grinned. “The guy’s related to Kato—Mickey’s sound engineer. Distant relative but…” I shrugged. Life was all about people who knew people. If not for some guy I’d never met, this opportunity might never have landed in my lap.
“So you figure Carson made the offer through Pauletta because he knew her?”
“Or knew of her. I think—” I drew in a breath. “I think he chose us. Rather than her suggesting us. I have no idea how we’d even be on the guy’s radar.”
“Probably has a lot of fingers in a lot of pies. Razor Made has had a couple of videos go viral. And you’re not known as rabble rousers.”
“Except when we chain ourselves to bridges.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. That.” His expression sobered.
“What?” I shifted so I lay on my side, facing him. The snow would likely still be there in the morning. Not with the same weird neon-pink glow to it, but beautiful nonetheless.
“I’m thinking about Pike.”
I blinked. “The fish? You’re thinking about fish now? I don’t think we have any—although I could check the freezer.” I wracked my brain. I wasn’t a huge fish fan.
He smiled, pressing a thumb to my frown line. “Relax. I didn’t mean the fish. I mean Pike was named for a fish, but he wasn’t a fish.”
“But he was a man.”
“He was.”
Curiosity ate away at me, but I’d learned sometimes Spencer needed time to process things. I could word vomit just about anything. Well, except stuff to do with my parents and that loss. Those thoughts came slower. Were harder to express.
“He died two years ago.” He blinked several times. I could barely see the green of his irises in the darkness of the room. Still, that little bit of the light filtered in from the streetlamp.
“You’ve never mentioned him.”
Spencer closed his eyes for a moment. Then he pressed his fingers against his closed lids. “I try not to think about him. Because it’s too goddamned painful.”
Quietly, I placed my hand on her sternum. He always carried his tension there. I pressed. “You don’t have to.”
He pulled his fingers away from his eyes and his lids fluttered open.
A lone tear escaped. It ran across the bridge of his nose and fell without a sound to the pillow beneath his head. Another one formed and, on impulse, I leaned over to kiss it away.
He wrapped his arm around me.
I did the same, pulling him close.
He wept.
Time had no meaning in moments like this.
I was close to the seven-year anniversary of my parents’ death.
I’d still been so damn raw at two years.
Still walking around in a daze—unable to comprehend I was now truly alone in the world.
Only Charles, and the other members of the symphony, had gotten me through those rough years.
And who did Spencer have? Certainly not his parents.
Two years ago? He hadn’t been working at TLIO at that point.
Or had he? I should’ve paid more attention.
I should’ve asked more questions. I should’ve been more considerate to him and his needs.
Being a selfish prick sometimes came more easily than I would’ve liked.
On occasion, I had to remind myself the world didn’t revolve around me.
Spencer helped with that.
Eventually his weeping eased.
He sniffled.
I reached over to my bedside, snagged a tissue, and handed it to him.
He blew his nose. A loud, honking sound.
Despite the strong desire to, I managed not to laugh. Barely.
“Sorry.” He held the tissue in his hand.
I grabbed the only unsoiled edge and flung it over the bed. I’ll deal with it in the morning…or maybe convince him to do it. Regardless, I’d have it picked up before the cleaner arrived. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“But I feel like I do. You didn’t sign up for a weepy guy.”
“That’s true. I didn’t sign up for any guy. Let alone a handsome, charming, sexy one with the most adorable cat ever.”
“You’re lucky he likes you.”
“I consider myself honored.” I tucked him against my shoulder. “Can you talk about it? Or do you just want to rest?”
“It’s been two years. That’s a long time.”
“Or it passes in the blink of an eye. I was just thinking I lost my parents almost seven years ago. Sometimes I forget what their voices sounded like. I have a few videos I could get out and watch…but that feels morbid. Time is supposed to heal. If I keep ripping off the bandage, it never will.”
“That’s true.” He sniffed. “Pike was my best friend when we were growing up. We both lived in virtual poverty—although his was more the system while mine was my parents eschewing all things material.”
I understood eschewing. I didn’t understand the system.
“He was Indigenous.”
“Ah.” Then little doubt that systemic racism played a part. All the wealth in the world didn’t change the fact I was Black. I’d been raised to be proud of that—but I witnessed racism of all stripes. “You remained friends?”
“Yeah. Eventually he got tired of living a crappy life in the city and he went back to his reserve in the interior. He used his knowledge to fight within the system for a better life for his family and friends. I don’t know where he found the strength.”
“You were what, going to law school?”
“Living in a comfortable dorm and eventually a comfortable condo and earning lots of money, yeah. He was working as a social worker in his community. That’s—” He swallowed.
“Social work is tough just about everywhere. Takes a special kind of person to do that work.”
“Yep. That was Pike. He was special…and I didn’t pay enough attention.”
My senses went on high alert at his tone as much as his words.
“What happened?”
“The government decided to build a pipeline right through his territory. He didn’t take kindly to that.”
“Ah.” A picture was slowly coalescing in my mind.
“The promised jobs were enough to sway some in his tribe. Others saw only the destruction of pristine wilderness and the decimation should the pipeline rupture.”
“What was Pike’s view?”
Spencer worked his lower lip through his teeth.
“Adamantly opposed. Sure, the money would’ve been great, but he didn’t see the upside.
He had truly left the city behind and was steeped in the land.
The wilderness had taken on an almost mystical quality to him.
He wrote of it often. As much as he was tired of the poverty and substance abuse, he believed he could help lead people to a better life.
He was talking about ecotourism. And the government was doing huge ad campaigns encouraging Indigenous tourism.
He saw that as a better source of revenue.
He—” Spencer hiccupped. “He fought big oil. He fought the government. He…lost.”
I couldn’t quite piece things together.
“They set up a barricade to prevent the pipeline. The courts ordered them to dismantle the camp. They didn’t.
The cops arrived—” He shut his eyes. “I saw it on the news. The fucking news. Two days after I’d turned in my company to the authorities.
Authorities I trusted. And yeah, the cops investigating the fraud where I worked obviously weren’t the same cops up north. ..”
“But it felt like the system all over again.” This, I could understand.
“Yeah.” He wiped at his face. “The pipeline will be finished in the spring and operational by summer. He never stood a chance.”
“He’s the reason you fight.”
“Sure.” He sighed. “I wasn’t there for him. When I left the company, I reread all his emails to me. I didn’t see the desperation in them. Beneath the upbeat updates was a desperation I could only see after the fact. When everything sort of worked itself out. When the pieces fell into place.”
“What happened to the cops?”
“They claimed self-defense. I was hoping there might be an inquiry, but nothing’s happened yet. The band got their money. Someone is trying to organize a scholarship in Pike’s name. I’ve contributed, of course.”
“Of course.” I echoed the words. Given how little he actually made, that would’ve been a sacrifice. “And you came to work for This Land is Ours.”
“Yep. Full circle. Back to where my parents started forty years ago.”
“But you have a chance. You know how the system works.”
“Not really. I don’t have connections to the back rooms. I can’t influence politicians and policy makers. I’m adept at reading documents and finding flaws, but what good is that really?”
I didn’t know. I honestly didn’t know. “You still fight for the disadvantaged. That night, at city council—” The night you almost fucked everything up.
He chuckled. “Not one of my better nights.”
“I’m sorry—”
“You don’t need to be. Your passion far exceeded mine. I hoped I could apply logic and reason. You showed them people cared. Understood what was at stake.” He sniffed.
“Where do you go from here?”
“I don’t know. I took the job with the hope of somehow making a difference. Of honoring Pike’s legacy. I’m not sure I’m succeeding.”
“You take on a lot of battles.”
“Yep. Indigenous rights. The environment. Poverty. Systemic racism. I’m trying to fight on so many fronts, and making little headway with any of them.”
And working yourself to the bone. Something had to give. I just didn’t know what. Before I could say anything, though, he kept speaking.
“Winter solstice was his favorite time of year. Followed by summer solstice. That last winter, he invited me up to join him. I—” He swallowed.
“I had a major project due at the beginning of the year and I put him off. Within a couple of months, he’d died, and I’d turned whistleblower.
I didn’t even go up for his funeral. Honestly, I wasn’t certain I’d be welcome. ”
That hurt my heart. “And you remember him on each solstice?”
“Yeah. Last year I trekked up to the Arctic circle for the summer solstice. Longest day of the year. Night was barely a blink. No way would I go up in the dead of winter, though. I like my daylight, thank you very much.”
“You just don’t want your cock to freeze and fall off.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, that too.”
“Would you want to go? To where he died? To where he lived?”
“I don’t think so. I keep him in my heart. I honor his memory by doing whatever I can to advance the causes he believed in. Doing more would be better…”
“But you’re only one person, and you only have so many hours in the day.”
“Yeah, something like that.”
I knew when he used yeah that he was getting tired. “Will you let me hold you?”
“Yeah. I’d really like that.”
“Turn over. Scooch back against me. Let me keep you close. Let me keep you safe.” I wouldn’t always be here, of course.
A private island off of Greece beckoned.
But, for this one night, I could hold him close.
I’d go to the lawyer’s tomorrow and sign the paperwork.
We’d move Spencer and Moses into the house. We’d celebrate Christmas.
Then, on the fourth of January, I’d board a private jet and head into an unknown world.
Frankly, I was fucking terrified.
Long after his breathing had evened, mine did as well.