41. Chapter 41
forty-one
Boston
The last couple of hours have felt like an out-of-body experience—the apartment, Skye telling me it’s mine if I wanted it, and… the kiss—holy shit, the kiss—and then our meeting with her mom afterwards.
It was the first time I truly laid myself bare, dug deep and shared with Skye and her mom what happened with Eddie two years ago.
I talked about my dad’s death, my mom’s decline into drugs, the boyfriends and baby daddies, the prostitution, and Eddie’s ultimatum.
By the time it was all out, I felt scraped raw from the inside.
But it didn’t stay like that for long. Not after Mrs. Monroe told me that I could move into the apartment as soon as my schedule allowed—tomorrow—that there was no deposit, and no credit check.
Life couldn't possibly be this generous… right?
I might be young, but I’ve been through enough shit to understand that life has a way of balancing the scales and that guys like me don’t usually get this lucky without something truly ugly waiting around the next corner.
Then she asked me how I was planning to manage my not-insignificant workload once I had custody of my siblings.
Honestly? That was never a question I got even close enough to explore.
“Here’s the thing, Boston,” Skye’s mom said. “I’ve known you a long time. I remember you and Skye and Jake playing out on the street when you were five. And I know how smart you are. You’re one of those good people who really bad things happened to.”
She leaned forward, smiling a smile that was almost as bright as Skye’s. “We’re going to help you turn that around. So here’s my proposal: you get your GED, and then you come work for me. Full-time. Benefits. Weekends off. That way you can actually be there for your siblings.”
Deal.
While time is one of those precious luxuries for me, I’m determined to figure out how to squeeze that into my busy schedule. I made it almost all the way through high school with a 4.1 GPA. I can pass this GED thing before I take custody of Cassie and Bronx.
After speaking with Skye’s mom, getting everything in order, I drove Skye back to that sketchy-ass parking lot, hoping her Mercedes was still in one piece.
The ride back passed in a blur. We spent the entire time talking about the apartment, the conversation with her mom. Anything but the kiss, really.
I don’t know if either of us knew how. Every now and then, I’d glance over and catch her touching her lips absentmindedly, almost like she couldn’t quite believe it really happened.
Truth be told, neither could I.
Because somewhere between her handing me keys to an apartment and promising me a future I stopped believing I deserved, Skye Monroe kissed me.
And I kissed her back.
For a brief moment, I got to experience what it feels like to have the things I’ve wanted most pressed right into the palms of my hands.
Soft lips. Blue eyes. A home.
Hope.
Even if at least some of those things were never really mine to keep.
So by the time I pull into Jake’s driveway, I’m actually happy to walk into the house, knowing full well that my time under the same roof as his mom is about to expire.
“Whoa, you look like you either got laid or won the damn lottery,” Jake laughs from one of the sofas in the living room when I enter the house.
I chuckle, kicking off my boots. “Unfortunately, neither. But I found an apartment.”
His eyes go wide, and he bolts upright. “Shit, you serious?”
I nod. “I’ll finally be in my own place tomorrow.” Saying it out loud brings a fresh wave of relief I didn’t expect. I welcome it like oxygen.
“Wait, fuck, okay, that’s— Fuck, that’s awesome, Boss. I’m so fucking happy for you.” Jake stands and hugs me, his grip tight. “This means you won’t go missing on me again, right?”
I laugh. “I won’t go missing on you again.”
“You better not, man,” Jake warns. “Okay, I’m supposed to go golfing with the guys tomorrow morning, but I can cancel that and help you move.”
I wave him off immediately. “You don’t have to cancel anything, Jake. I own, like, five things,” I say with a laugh. “All of them fit in my trunk. It’ll take me exactly five minutes to move everything into the place.”
“What about furniture? At least a bed?”
“The place comes fully furnished.” I’m still in disbelief.
Jake nods, smiling. “So, what’s next for you? College?”
“Uh, maybe. One day. I don’t know. Moving in first, I guess, and then… I need to get the ball rolling to get custody of Cassie and Bronx. It’s been dragging on for too long already.”
“What’s that gonna look like?”
I shrug. “I’m not totally sure. I’m meeting with an attorney next week. I think I have to apply for guardianship, then a family court judge decides if I’m fit to take custody.”
“Man, sounds like you’ll get scrutinized.”
“Yeah, I mean, probably. I really don’t know.”
“Kinda sucks to think there’s some random person who gets to decide the fate of Cass and Bronx and you, right?”
I nod. “But that’s how it goes. Makes sense, I guess. The courts want to make sure kids are safe, right? I’m just gonna keep my head down and do whatever it takes to get them out of the system.”
Jake claps my shoulder. “Well, if you need me, I’m just a phone call away. Always.”
I swallow. “I know that,” I say honestly. “Alright, man. I gotta change and head to AJ’s. What are your plans tonight?”
“I have a date.” His eyes gleam with the kind of shit-eating smirk that tells me exactly what kind of date he means.
“Date or booty call?” I ask, laughing.
He cackles. “A date that hopefully turns into a booty call.”
“Anyone I’ve met before?” I doubt it’s Cameron. He hasn’t so much as whispered her name since he brought her around that one night.
His grin widens. “Remember Karianna?”
“Shut the fuck up,” I say, taken aback. “Are you for real?”
“Yep. She’s fucking hot, dude. Nice…” He gestures vaguely around his chest. “Pretty sure she had them done, though.”
I chuckle, already heading down the hall. “Okay, well… have fun with that.”
“You bet your ass I will,” he shouts as I disappear into the guest room.
I change fast, eager to grab a bite before work.
“So, you’re leaving us?”
The voice freezes me mid-movement. I jerk around to find Mrs. Davis leaning in the doorway. I yank my shirt down, covering my torso.
“I overheard you and Jake,” she adds.
“Yeah. I found an apartment. I’m moving in tomorrow.”
“Oh my goodness, that’s great. Congratulations!” Her voice is syrupy, sticky, too enthusiastic, too… her.
“Thank you. I’m… excited.” Except right now a chill is crawling up my spine. Maybe the universe finally remembered it hasn’t screwed me yet today.
She nods, stepping into the room. “I guess I’ll need to get better at planning our get-togethers, then. Won’t be able to be as spontaneous with you anymore.”
Get-togethers?
I swallow. Hard.
No.
Our arrangement ends once I move out.
“Uh, I… I don’t understand,” I say, shoving my wallet and phone into my back pocket.
Mrs. Davis’s smile sharpens. “Did you think just because you’ll no longer be sleeping under my roof that I’m done requiring your… services?” Her voice drops, soft and venomous. “And what about my friends?”
She steps closer.
“No, I… We’re done,” I say, panic creeping in.
That was the agreement. Right? I do this while I stay at Jake’s?
God, I wish I had taken more time to think through her proposal.
I should’ve set clearer rules. I was just so fucking desperate, so blinded by the prospect of fast cash and a roof over my head that I never stopped to figure out exactly what she’d expect of me in return.
I feel sick.
She giggles, low and breathy. “Boss, baby, I still don’t think you understand. I make the rules. I say when we’re done.” She lifts her hand to my chest, but I step back.
“No. I don’t want to do this anymore,” I say, voice shaking. “I shouldn’t have agreed to this. It’s… I can’t—”
Her expression ices over, her brow creasing as much as her Botox will allow. “Excuse me?”
“Mrs. Davis, I appreciate you letting me stay, and…” Well, that’s it, really. “I do. But I’m moving into my own place, and I’m trying to get custody of my siblings. I wouldn’t even know when to—”
“Do you really think a judge will give you custody?” she snaps. “If he finds out you’re having sex for money? That you’re a whore, Boston?”
My voice dies in my throat.
She begins swiping on her phone, then holds it out for me to see.
A picture. Of me and Rachel. Explicit, compromising. She swipes again. And again. One photo after another. Me and Rachel. Me with the others. All nude, X-rated, exploiting.
When the fuck were these taken? How?
My stomach lurches.
“There’s only one judge in Washington County who handles custody cases,” she says, sweet as poison.
“Judge Goodman. You may not know him, but you sure do know his daughter, Rachel. Intimately.” She giggles at her own fucked-up joke.
“He’s very conservative. Very old-school.
But he thinks the sun shines out of his daughter’s ass.
” Another laugh escapes her lips. “He loves her, so I’m sure he’d forgive her for a little slip-up.
But you? Some twenty-year-old kid fucking the wives of Stillwater’s elites while the hardworking husbands are away?
I don’t think so. I don’t think he’d find it in your siblings’ best interest to live with you. ”
The room tilts as realization hits me: I sold my soul to the devil, and she’s here to collect her dues.
I have no way out. I’m trapped in this bullshit agreement I made when I was at my most vulnerable. When I had nothing and needed everything.
She takes another step toward me, and this time I don’t escape her reach. I don’t flinch when her hand cups my cheek, when her eyes flit between mine.
I’m frozen.
“You probably think I’m evil, Boss,” she purrs. “But I promise, I’m not. I’m just… horny. And you? You’re fucking hot and really damn good.”
She grazes her index finger down my chest. “And you know what? You’re lucky. You really are. No other job will pay you as well as I do.”
She really thinks she’s doing me a favor. Her last words make something in me snap.
“Okay, fine,” I say, jaw clenched. If I can’t get out, I need to survive it. “But I’m not fucking you on a flat rate anymore.”
Her brows rise.
“No more ‘at your beck and call for a thousand bucks a week.’ If you’re going to keep doing this to me, I want six hundred. Per woman. Per fuck. In my hands.”
She stares, stunned.
I keep going. “No more middle-of-the-night calls, no more ambushes, no more pop-up orgies. I want forty-eight hours advance notice. No exceptions.” I pause, take a breath.
“And I’m not doing anyone I’m not comfortable with.
I get to say no. Condoms are non-negotiable,” I add because this last time, she conveniently tried to forget about protection.
Fuck that.
She presses her lips together like she’s trying not to smile. It pisses me off how unaffected she is by my demands, how powerless I feel even while setting some much-needed boundaries.
“You’re negotiating with me now?” she asks.
I nod once. I wouldn’t call this a negotiation—more like a hail Mary—but whatever.
She hums appreciatively. “I like this side of you, baby. Dominant.”
I don’t respond to that statement. “Take it or leave it,” I snap.
She smirks but extends her hand. “You have a deal, Boston.”
Reluctantly, I shake it.
I’m still not free. I’m still selling my body to women who see me as a plaything.
But at least I managed to wedge my fingers into the cracks of the walls closing around me. And right now, that’s all I need. A little space. A little control.
I’ll figure out the rest later.
First: get Bronx and Cassie back.
Then?
Burn the whole fucking arrangement to the ground.