20. Chapter 20
twenty
Boston
I’m on the edge of sleep, leaning back in the driver’s seat when a knock at the window jolts me upright. I’m fully expecting a cop or random weirdo.
Normally, I’d ignore the person—roll my window down if it’s a uniform—but when I turn my head, it’s Jake standing next to my car, hand still raised.
I motion for him to take a step back, fumble for the door handle and step out of the car, blinking at him in the amber glow of the streetlamp.
He’s holding a takeout bag and staring at me like I’ve grown another head. “You alright?”
“Yeah, perfectly fine,” I say, hands shoved into my pockets.
He scans me, probably for signs of intoxication. “You sure? You looked like you were passed out.”
I nod. “I was about to fall asleep. It’s been a long day.”
Jake huffs an uneasy laugh. “Uh, okay. If you’re too tired to make it home, I can drive you,” he says, still looking at me like he’s not totally convinced I’m not strung out.
I wave him off. “You don’t need to drive me anywhere, Jake.”
“Boss, it’s no problem,” he says. “I don’t need you getting into a wreck because you fell asleep behind the wheel. How much have you been working, man?”
“A lot.”
“Come on then, let me give you a ride. Give us a chance to catch up, too,” he says, motioning his head toward his Audi.
He’s always been an incredible friend. Even after everything went to shit—after my dad died and we had to leave our neighborhood, when I started showing up to school in the same hoodie several days in a row, when the rest of our friends rolled up in new cars while I took the bus—he never made me explain.
But this is different.
I know I won’t be able to dodge it forever. He’s going to find out someday—somehow, anyway. And maybe now’s as good a time as ever to just… say it.
“Jake… there’s nowhere for you to drive me to.”
He blinks. “What do you mean?”
I force myself to look at him. “I sleep in my car.”
For a moment, he just stands there. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “I… what?”
“I sleep here.” I nod at my car. “Every night.”
Jake looks like I’m speaking gibberish.
I shift my weight. “I’m homeless, Jake. Been homeless for a long time.”
With each word, I deflate a little more.
I try so damn hard to keep that part of my life under wraps.
People hear “homeless” and immediately make assumptions.
Drug addict. Mental health issues. Lazy.
They don’t get that it’s nearly impossible to work your way up when you start with nothing.
And what I had when Eddie forced me out amounted to exactly that.
Nothing.
Jake takes a step back, eyes flicking between me and my car. “Since you left? Since you were… seventeen?” he says, like that can’t be right.
I nod.
He frowns.
A good five seconds of silence pass between us.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “I had no idea.”
I shrug. “That’s kind of the point.”
“But… how?” That frown’s going nowhere. “Did… Did bad shit happen to you?”
“Define bad shit.” The past eleven years have been a series of “bad shit.”
“I don’t know…” He rubs the back of his neck. “I know your mom got arrested in March.”
My back stiffens. “How do you know that?”
“The news,” he says with a small shrug. “And Archer,” he adds sheepishly.
I nod, jaw tight.
“But there was no trace of you, Boss. You just disappeared from one day to the next. Literally. Just… gone.” He drags both hands down his face. “I couldn’t find you. I called. I texted. I went to your place, but… Fuck, it was empty,” he chokes.
My heart screeches to a momentary halt.
He was looking for me. When I thought no one cared, Jake was looking for me.
He takes a deep breath, his brow softening. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“Not really,” I mutter, dragging a hand through my hair. “It’s just… none of it’s good.”
The words stick in my throat, so I skip to the part I can actually say. “I left Stillwater. Lived in Rochester for a while. Then in March, I found out about my mom’s arrest and came back. Cass and Bronx are with a foster family and—”
“Oh, shit,” Jake mutters. He knows how much of the responsibility of raising them always fell into my lap.
“I’m trying to get a place, apply for guardianship, but that takes money I don’t have. I’m saving everything I can but… it’s slow-going.”
He nods, shoulders heavy. “Boss, I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
Jake studies me for a moment. Then his shoulders square. “Come with me.”
I chuckle at his resolve. “What?”
“I’m not letting you sleep in your car, Boss. No fucking way. You’re staying with me,” he says. “At least until you have enough for your own damn place, okay?”
He’s serious. I can see it in his eyes. There’s nothing performative about this. And I’ll admit, the idea of having a real bed to sleep in—to be completely horizontal and stretch out at night—makes me salivate.
Still, I hesitate. “What about your parents?”
Jake shrugs. “It’s a big-ass house. My dad still travels as much as he always has, so it’s just my mom most of the time. She won’t mind having you around. You’re coming with me.”
“Man, are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Dude, there’s no way I’m letting you sleep in your car. In fact, I’m this fucking close”—he pinches his thumb and index finger together, leaving barely enough space for a hair to pass through— “to strapping an ankle monitor on your damn leg so you won’t just disappear on me again.”
I laugh. “I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
He cocks his head, unimpressed. “Were you planning to leave when you were seventeen?”
We both know the answer to that.
“Exactly,” he says. “Now get in your car and drive to my place. I’ll follow to make sure you don’t pull some shady U-turn.”
“Calm down,” I mutter, still grinning as I slide into my car.
Sure enough, he follows me the whole way.
His house hasn’t changed. Same gravel driveway. Same perfectly edged lawn. The air smells like freshly mowed grass and pine trees, the porch light casting a soft glow on the ornate double front doors.
“Hey, Jake?” I say when he’s about to let us inside. “Can you… not say anything? To Pace and Jon and them? Please. Nobody knows. I want to keep it that way.”
Jake nods. “Of course. Just you and me, Boss.”
He claps a hand on my back. I hitch my duffel bag higher on my shoulder, then follow him into the house.