Chapter 31
thirty-one
I’m tired by the time my flight touches down at La Guardia a little after ten p.m. But I’m also mellow in a way I haven’t been since that drone flew by my window.
Am I crazy for thinking I could ever be friends with Lindy again?
When I remember the terror of those moments after Cynnie pushed her panic button, it seems impossible to forgive him.
But knowing now it was him, not some truly evil fucker who would have hurt Cynnie, the fear fades a little.
I’m not ready to pay for his nachos, but I won’t turn down his invitation, either.
I hitch the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder and pull out my phone as I walk out of the gate, checking for a message from Manny as to where I should meet him.
Instead, I hear, “Oppa! Oppa!”
I look up from the screen and open my arms just in time to catch a flurry of little. “Baby!”
“Someone was too excited to wait,” Manny drawls, strolling up behind my bumble.
I drop my bag off my shoulder and hold it out to Manny, who takes it so I can swing Cynnie up into my arms. She wraps her legs around me. I kiss her silly before I let her down, drape my arm over her shoulder, and follow Manny out of the terminal.
“I’m so happy to see you, baby,” I say, tucking my head against hers and kissing her temple.
“Me, too, me, too. Couldn’t wait. Good surprise?”
“The best surprise.” I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to see her until the rescheduled gala tomorrow night, since I know she was planning a day of primping tomorrow with members of her family. Seeing her tonight feels like a gift. “Can you stay with me tonight or do you need to go home?”
“Stay with you, Oppa. I haz to be home for lunch tomorrow when the hairdresser comes.”
“I’ll make sure you’re home by then.”
When we get to Manny’s limo in short term-parking, I open the front passenger door for Cynnie and climb in beside her. I buckle us both in and kiss her temple again.
“You don’t want some privacy in the back?” Manny asks.
I want to be close to my family. “Not this time.”
As we drive back into the City, I tell them about the hack, about Lindy wanting to be friends again, about De Leon taking him off somewhere to spank him straight.
Cynnie begins giggling when I mention Lindy’s punishment.
I lick my little finger and poke it into her ear just to hear her squeak. She swats me.
“Oppa!”
“Don’t make fun of my moral dilemma. You should be the voice of reason, here. The assholes he hired tried to grab you off the subway.”
“But they didn’t. You kept me safe.”
“You kept yourself safe. You were so smart and so brave, my baby.”
She tips her head back and I give her the kiss she deserves.
“If I’z forgive him, you’z forgive him? You said he made mistakes on those jobs where people got hurt. He didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“He also stalked me for several years and pretended to be my friend.”
“No, he stalked you to become your friend.” She’s silent for a moment, then cuddles in even more tightly.
“We’re not like other people, Oppa. My best friends except for Emmy and Amy and Sammi are all online.
I haven’t met most of them face-to-face.
You’re the person I trust most in the world and I’ve only known you for a month.
A lady Papa made me see told me I don’t form normal attachments.
Neither do you. Neither does he. I think he’s been looking for you for a long time.
He was looking for someone like him. Someone he could form a real attachment with. ”
I bury my face in her hair, nuzzling and kissing her. “My wise bumble.”
“I been lonely, too, Oppa,” she whispers. “I understand how he feels.”
“I don’t want you to be lonely anymore, baby.” I take a deep breath and let out what’s in my heart. “I want you to be with me all the time. I’m not asking you to leave your family right away, but when you’re ready, would you consider moving in with me?”
She twists her head to look up at me, those depthless eyes full of wonder. “Yes? You want me to move in with you?”
“I do.”
“Yes. Yes-yes-yes. All the yes. I want that.”
I hug her as tightly as I can, given the seatbelts, and smile all the way back to the East Village.
In the morning, I take the train with Cynnie, because it’s hard to let her go.
When she gets off, I take the train back and walk five blocks to Namboolu for Men.
Cynnie and her stepmother and grandmother are having a full day of pampering before the party.
I don’t need that much pampering, but a haircut and hot towel shave make me feel like a king.
With the cool breeze teasing through my fresh fade, I stroll through the Saturday-busy streets of the East Village.
Yes, I know privacy and safety are illusions.
I know the smart phones in every bag and pocket around me are listening.
I know the black beady eye of CCTV is on me.
But without the threat of Ness and his fucking drones weighing on me, I feel safe.
I feel free.
I pull out the phone De Leon’s left with me—again—and text him.
Is Lindy still alive?
He doesn’t respond immediately, but after a minute, as I walk up the steps of my building, a picture pops up on my screen. Black briefs covering a skinny ass. Hairy thighs crisscrossed with too many thin, red welts for me to count.
De Leon: Sent with consent.
I swallow against the pressure in my throat.
I understand that people like Brenna and Emily and, I guess, Lindy, want that kind of pain, but I won’t ever be able to stomach it.
We play rough and the biting and spanking stings a little, but I’d be fucking horrified if I left marks on my bumble that look like that. I’m so glad Cynnie’s not a masochist.
Is he sorry?
De Leon: Not enough yet. But he will be by Tuesday.
I just wanted to let you know I feel safe today. And to say thank you again.
De Leon: You’re welcome. Lindy’s not going to be able to sit down by Tuesday. Pizza and beer at my place after class?
I shake my head at the screen and text him back before taking the stairs up to my apartment for a little exercise.
Yes.
After a couple of hours of Dutiful with my favorite wingman and a light dinner, since my stomach’s starting to do a two-step at the idea of being introduced to Cynnie’s family, I dress for the party. Spit-shining my dress shoes amuses Ty no end.
He shines my cufflinks (although he refuses to use spit), ribs me about my monkey suit, and watches avidly as I do a Windsor knot in my tie.
He vetoes a pocket square, but I like to have a handkerchief with me to clean up my bumble.
She’ll be big tonight around her family and their guests, so she might not need it, but I like to be prepared.
I tuck a handkerchief in my pocket, fasten on the gleaming cufflinks, and shoot my cuffs.
“What do you think?” I ask.
Ty sniffs. “You look like a grown up.”
“I am a grown up.”
“Naw, you’re cool most of the time.”
“You’re telling me my Dolce suit isn’t cool?”
“Eh. It’s dull. If it was orange, that would be cool.”
I look down at the three-piece, silver-gray, slim-fit, silk suit. “If it was orange, I’d look like a traffic cone.”
Ty sniggers. “You look like you work in an office.”
I ruffle his sponge twists. “I’ll take that. It’s a business party.”
“I thought it was for Cynnie’s gramma?”
“It is. Her whole family’s involved in their business, so it’s a business-birthday party.”
“That’s weird,” Ty opines.
I ruffle his hair again. “You staying and playing Dutiful until we get back?”
Ty shakes his head and his face splits into a huge grin. “I’m taking Dakota to the movies.”
“Yeah? What are you going to see?”
“Killer Bunnies from Heck. It’s, like, a horror movie with comedy.”
“A horror movie with comedy?”
“Yeah. She’ll hide her face against my shoulder during the scary parts and want me to put my arm around her but she’ll laugh at the funny parts and be in a good mood when the movie’s over.”
I hold out my knuckles for him to rap. “My man, that is how you plan a date.”
“I’m sly.”
I noogie him just to remind him he’s thirteen and not Casanova.
“When’s the movie over?”
“Nine-thirty.”
“If your mom’s not home by ten-thirty, you text me.”
“She’s been better since you were gone. I think your friend Brenna might have said something.”
“Did she?” That probably shouldn’t surprise me. I don’t see Brenna holding back if she feels something’s wrong. When Ty nods, I say, “That’s good. I’m glad your mom’s been around more. But if there’s a problem, text me, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Ty grumbles like it’s such an imposition.
I give him a super-noogie.
Cynnie, standing on the marble steps of the venue, wearing the dress we bought her, the top cupping her breasts like my palms, the skirt hugging her round hips, her skin glowing gold against the rosy silk, the silk curtain of her hair blowing lightly in the night breeze, is so beautiful my chest seizes.
Eyes prickling, but conscious that I’m here as her friend, not her boyfriend, I hold out my hand to her instead of drawing her into my arms. When she puts her fingers in mine, I lift our joined hands to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. “You look amazing.”
Her dark eyes gleam. “Thank you.” She draws close and whispers. “Wish we were alone so you could growl for me.”
“I will later,” I promise her. She giggles.
Inside the function hall, which is a single large room with the string quartet playing on a low stage, a small, parquet dance floor in front of them, circular tables scattered around the rest of the room, and a full bar tucked into one corner, Cynnie takes me on a meet-and-greet around the room.