Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
THORNE
“Wanna take a road trip with me?” I ask Warren and Chance the next morning while they sit at the kitchen bar, looking sleepy and rumpled.
Fucking adorable.
Chance is the first to answer. “Will there be snacks?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, there will be snacks. It’s only a few hours to the countryside.”
“Okay,” Warren says, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “Why are we going?”
“I have to check on a friend that I want you two to meet.”
None of us have ever taken someone to meet Bensotti. He’s too important, his work too…sensitive to just have random people meeting him.
But…I don’t know, I want him to know Chance and Warren. I want them to have a little of that part of my life, even if they’ll never see it all.
Over the past ten years, Bensotti has come to mean a lot to me.
When he arrested me the first time—and introduced me to Knox—he could have seen me as just another delinquent and tossed me to the system.
But he didn’t. He helped me grow up—even if I didn’t realize it at the time.
He made me who I am now, for my Golden and Firebird.
I want them to meet the man that made me a person after what I went through.
We finish breakfast, then hit the road—but not before stopping at a gas station to grab all kinds of snacks for Chance. He really is a bottomless pit.
As we drive, I ask Firebird and Golden questions, wanting to get to know them more.
My feelings for them are starting to deepen. Even though I thought it would only be them belonging to me, I want more than their bodies—that was just the beginning. I need their minds and their hearts, too.
“When did you start swimming?” I ask Chance, looking in the rearview at him. We told him to take the passenger seat since he’s way taller than Warren, but he said he didn’t want Warren to feel left out if he was in the back.
“Since I was old enough to get in the water,” he says, smiling. “There are all these pictures in my mom’s den with her and me in the pool. I always had a big goofy smile on my face.”
“You loved the water,” Warren says, glancing back at him.
With a sad smile, Chance says, “Yeah, but I think I loved my mom more. She’s always there for me, even when I was a kid and my dad just wanted to toss me into the water to see if I would sink or swim.”
“The fuck?” I say, looking at Chance to see if he’s serious. “He did that?”
“No, but he wanted to. Said swimming was in my DNA, that I’d be able to swim without effort because I was born for the water.”
Warren scoffs. “Not to bring my biology degree into this conversation, but that’s not how genetics work.”
“You have a biology degree?” I ask, stunned. I thought he only had an engineering degree.
Grinning, Warren nods. “Yeah. I double majored in undergrad. I thought I wanted to be a doctor but wanted a fallback.” He twists his body to look back at Chance.
“Over generations, people’s bodies adapt to certain environments.
Like there’s a population in Southeast Asia, the Bajau people?
Over multiple generations, their bodies adapted to their seafaring lifestyle and most present-day Bajau people can hold their breaths for over five minutes.
But that happened over hundreds or even thousands of years.
Not one generation. So, your father is weird for that statement. ”
Both Chance and I are quiet, looking at Warren.
His cheeks flush as he glances between the two of us. “What?”
“You just have that random fact at the forefront of your mind?” I ask, grinning so he knows I’m teasing him.
He smiles back, twisting his hands in his lap. “I have a lot of useless facts that I don’t know are there until they come up in conversation.”
“That’s fucking hot, baby,” Chance says.
Warren laughs a tinkling laugh that lights something up in my chest. He’s so happy, so carefree. I love seeing this side of him.
“Can you swim?” Chance asks me.
“I can do enough so I won’t drown. But I’m no Chance Spencer.”
The blush that lights up his face is fucking adorable.
“I’ll teach you,” he says smugly. With his record, he can afford to be smug. And since he’s always downplaying his skills, it’s nice to see him realizing how fucking amazing he is.
“Have you thought about that?” I ask, switching lanes around a slow as fuck minivan. Warren holds on to the oh shit bar, looking at me with wide eyes. “I won’t kill you, Firebird. You’re always safe with me.”
“I know,” he says, slowly disengaging his hand from the handle. “Just surprised me, is all.”
I chuckle as Chance says, “Not really, no. I think it would be fun, though. Training kids at like, a local gym or something. Some that can’t really afford those fancy-ass coaches my dad insisted I have.
” He chews his bottom lip, his brows scrunched like there’s something on his mind.
“You know what? I think I’ll do that while I’m in grad school.
It’ll keep me in shape, and I can do what I love. ” His eyes jump to mine. “Thanks.”
“Anytime, Golden.”
The rest of the ride is spent talking about other small things, like our favorite vacation spots—Aspen for Warren, St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands for Chance—favorite colors—both said black while eyeing me, which went straight to my dick—and favorite movies—romcoms for Warren and of course Chance was into all the superhero shit.
It’s fun just talking with no expectations.
A few hours later, we pull into Bensotti’s driveway. A police cruiser is parked on the street. I frown at it, not liking that he might be back in the field with his diagnosis.
I’m sure he’ll chew my head off, telling me he’s not a kid, that he can work while battling cancer. But it’s not safe. Policing is a stressful job, and his side gig is another added layer. Stress can’t be good for his diagnosis.
“Your friend is a cop?” Chance asks, following my eyes to the car.
“He’s supposed to be retiring,” I say through clenched teeth.
We head up the stairs and I unlock the door. “B, it’s Thorne.”
I can feel the sigh in his tone when he says, “In my office.”
“Come,” I beckon Chance and Warren behind me.
When I round the corner to Bensotti’s office, I have to fight back a gasp. In the few weeks since I visited, he’s lost a noticeable amount of weight. His once full head of hair is thinning, and he looks a decade older than his fifty years.
I don’t like it.
He narrows his eyes at me, though he doesn’t stand and bluster like he usually would. He must be tired.
“Why you here?” he asks, voice sounding both exhausted and affectionate.
“You keep hanging up when I ask how you are, so I figured I’d come in person so you can’t.” I step further into the room. “This is Chance and Warren. Golden, Firebird, this is Angel Bensotti. My first arresting officer.”
Chance chokes as Warren holds out his hand, looking to see if I’m lying or not. “It’s nice to meet you. I didn’t know…Thorne was arrested before?” Warren looks at me with wide eyes, not knowing what to say in this situation. I simply smile.
Bensotti chortles. “Yeah, well, I tried to keep him out of trouble.” B shakes Chance’s hand too. “It only worked half the time.”
“What did you arrest him for?” Chance asks, taking a seat in front of Bensotti’s desk. “Something good?”
B shakes his head. “Nah. Taggin’ a building. I’d been after him and Knox for months. I got lucky and caught them on the same night.”
“You arrested Knox too? I can’t see Knox getting arrested.”
“You know Knox?” Bensotti checks Chance over for tattoos I’m sure.
Chance nods, then says, “Well, I met him. But I don’t know him. He just looks…nice.”
Both B and I laugh. Knox isn’t a mean person, but he’s also a lethal motherfucker. Most people on his bad side wouldn’t say he’s nice.
Catching his breath, Bensotti says, “Yeah, well, he put his artistic skills to good use. Doing pretty good with that shop a his.”
As Bensotti gets to know my men, I check him out, chronicling his appearance.
His skin is thin and sallow, like he hasn’t seen the sun in ages.
His eyes are dull, almost listless, unless he’s laughing at something one of my guys says.
The shirt he’s wearing practically swallows him, when at one time, I think we clowned him because his biceps alone almost ripped the sleeves.
He’s been wasting away and he hasn’t told us anything.
Anger sears through me, but I tamp it down until I can get B on his own. I don’t want Warren and Chance to see me explode.
Bensotti glances at me, and must clock my expression because he says, “Will you excuse us?” He says to Warren and Chance. “I have to discuss some things with Thorne since he made this long trip.”
“Sure,” Warren says and they leave the room once Bensotti tells them where the living room is.
When they’re out of earshot, I round on B. “When were you going to tell us you were still working?”
He sighs, which tells me more than his appearance. One thing Bensotti enjoys is cursing us out and telling us to stay in our place. He would have been halfway through a rant before all of the words left my lips.
“It was just one shift for a friend who’s expecting his first grandchild. My old partner.” The word comes out as potna.
“He could have found someone else. B, you’re sick.”
“I know, kid. I live with it every day. Someone else could have done it, yeah, but I want to feel normal. My old life is gone. No more busting criminals or chopping it up with my fellow cops. It’s just me in this house.” He looks around as if he’s living with some regrets. “Just these four walls.”
“Then come home with me. I can help you.” I’m surprised by the desperation in my tone. I don’t ever beg for anything, but I can’t allow him to sit here alone, with no help. He’s done so much for me; I can’t pretend it meant nothing and walk away when he needs me most.
He nods solemnly. “Means a lot, kid. I’ll think about it.
” I open my mouth to plead my case further, but he says, “I still gotta work for another month before I can get my retirement. I can work from home, but I can’t leave the jurisdiction in case they call me in.
While I’m finishing my shit for retirement, I’ll consider it. ”
If I push, Bensotti will just shut down, so I nod and sit back in the chair, arms crossed. “Fine. Do we have anything new?”
A grateful look flashes in his eyes, and I try to pretend I don’t see it. Bensotti doesn’t like asking for help or handouts. But he’s not asking, I’m telling him he needs to come home with me, so he doesn’t stress himself trying to do everything alone.
But I don’t ask again. I’ll let Pyro push him to moving. He gives that little shit whatever he wants.
“Orion says he’s getting close with this program he pioneered,” B says, standing from his chair to go to a filing cabinet.
He still has his same swagger, so he’s not doing too bad.
“I don’t understand none of it, so maybe you can make heads or tails of it.
” He hands me a stack of paperwork. I’ll read it over when I’m home to try to understand, but Orion is light years ahead of me when it comes to tech and hacking.
“Cool. Any word on the head of this operation?”
“Nothin’ yet. I’ll call ya when I got somethin’. You came all the way here for that?”
Rolling my eyes, I stand and tuck the papers under my arm. “No, I want to take you to lunch. I’m sure you haven’t eaten since your chemo treatment this morning.”
“Who told you I had chemo this morning?” he asks as he walks beside me.
“I have my ways.”
“Fucking Orion,” Bensotti mutters as we head to the living room.
We go to B’s favorite restaurant, talking and laughing while Bensotti tells Warren and Chance stories from when I was younger.
Chance thinks it’s hilarious that Bensotti arrested me more than ten times while Warren looks worried that I might get arrested again.
I assure them both that my tagging and stealing days are behind me.
I had a reason for my thieving.
After lunch, I walk Bensotti back inside. He looks exhausted, like he can barely keep his eyes open. It’s even clearer when he tells me to take him to his guest room on the first floor. “Too tired to climb the stairs,” he admits, his eyes troubled by his admission.
Once he’s in bed, I tell him I’ll come back to visit soon, and he better have his shit packed to come back with me. He waves me away and closes his eyes, a crease still in his brow.
I wait a few minutes to make sure he doesn’t need anything, then head out.
The first twenty or so minutes of the drive home are spent in silence as I chew on my lip ring. Will Bensotti return to Meadowbrook with me when I come for him? Regardless of if he doesn’t believe me, as soon as this month is over, I’ll be back with a fucking U-Haul, packing up his shit.
I’ll have to figure out how to break my lease so I can rent a larger place, somewhere he’ll be comfortable. I won’t allow him to live alone while he’s going through this tough battle.
If he’d let me drop out of school, I could help him. But I know that would just disappoint him.
Breaking the silence, Chance says, “What’s wrong with Angel?”
My heart feels heavy when I say, “Cancer. Melanoma. It spread and is now affecting other organs. He’s getting treatment, but…he’s alone.” My voice cracks on the last word, so I clamp my mouth shut, not wanting to break down in front of them.
Warren takes my hand and kisses the back. “I’m sorry. He seems like a good guy. He looks like a fighter though.”
“He is. B’s always been a fighter.”
Chance rests a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll help anyway I can.”
“Thank you both,” I whisper.
Maybe the three of us can put our heads together, along with my brothers, and figure out a way to get stubborn Bensotti some help.