by Kat Bastion
Three blocks down and another to the left, we started to jog to catch up to a dwindling line at the back door of a city bus. We grabbed a couple of nearby seats right as the bus sputtered smoky diesel exhaust with the driver’s engine rev before trundling down a four-lane traffic artery.
The sight of the pollution stuck in my mind. “I read in the news last month they plan to switch the city buses over to all electric.”
She nodded absently, saying nothing to my random factoid. Instead, her gaze wandered across our city as it rolled by. The faraway look hinted that even though she sat beside me, her thoughts had already traveled miles away—maybe to our mystery destination.
My anxiety from the last few hours began to ebb as six stops came and went while twilight dimmed to near-darkness. We disembarked at the seventh stop, right in front of a popular Chinese restaurant.
When the bus motored off again, we crossed the street to enter the downtown area. A ten-acre park sprawled to our left, its sidewalk lampposts flickering to life. The courthouse, with its stately columnar façade, towered above us at the peak of a mountain of steps. To our right, where we veered toward, stood the city’s magnificent renovated public library.
We crossed at a cobblestone crosswalk, but when we hopped up onto the high curb at the corner, her grip on my hand tightened, and we paused.
“There,” she murmured and gave a nod toward the edge of the park. “Like clockwork.”
Sadness weighed her tone and unshed tears glittered in her eyes. My chest suddenly ached for her, for whatever pain she’d voluntarily suffered to bring me there. I wanted to pull her into my arms, rescue her away from the cause of it all.
Yet I didn’t...couldn’t. Whatever spur-of-the-moment plan she had for us had obviously become important. Vital enough for her to endure clear heartache.
Instead, I let her be my guide. The day had been designated to her, after all. A day to break the law, to show me the appeal. But all day long, she hadn’t tried to convince me of anything. From the official marker of midnight on, every single thing she’d done had been for the benefit of others—not herself, and not me.
An urgency to see the world through her eyes rippled through my gut, and I tore my gaze away from the brave and generous woman by my side.
Edging the park, intermittent pools of light from streetlamps fought to defeat the growing darkness between them. But anyone would’ve had to have been blind to miss the true war that waged, silent but powerful, piercing the heart of our vibrant city.
Homeless milled about. Some in small groups of three or four, others standing alone. Park benches were filled. Down the street we’d just crossed from, covered stoops of each of the closed shop doorways had their darkened corners filled: young kids huddling together, a lone woman wrapped in a tattered jacket, a tall man with watchful eyes that peered out from behind a rainbow-striped scarf.
Shay nudged me. “These are the same kinds of people you helped today. Where they would’ve ended up, maybe tomorrow or next month.”
I frowned with a heavy sigh. “I had no idea there were so many.”
“There weren’t. When I first hit the streets, there were still empty benches. The forgotten had choices back then, when the shelters still had room to spare.”
My gaze continued, tracking back through the park, scanning over the packed sidewalk at our right and beyond. “Wow. What’s going on at the library?”
“That’s our new favorite place. A last refuge.”
“‘Our’?” Confusion clouded my brain. After discovering how many we’d saved with our hacking stunt—and the reminder of how close any of us truly were to living on the streets—the distinction between “them” and “us” had blurred.
“All of ours. City park’s a public space, but so is the library. Clean restrooms, filtered water, chairs and tables to sit at.”
Of course. “Warm and dry, out of the elements.”
“Yup. Same city that’s electrifying our buses just did a ninety-million-dollar renovation of their beloved place of knowledge.”
I nodded, remembering the news I’d read last year. “Benefactors funded a chunk of it, but the library charter required tax dollars to cover at least half of it.”
“Sure.” She tugged my hand, leading me toward the library’s grand entrance. “It’s what keeps it public, more of our tax dollars at work. So that a single mother raising two young kids can bring them somewhere to get excited about reading.”
We walked through the echo-y main entrance hall, with its floors, pillars, and walls made of elaborate marble, then entered the main part of the library to join a packed house. Not one chair sat empty. No couch cushion remained vacant. Even floor space in many areas had been commandeered. Up through the center atrium, at every table and gathering space on each floor within view, the same pattern appeared: overcrowded.
No silence existed. Impossible with this packed arena. But at least the respectful sound hovered at the low range of murmured conversations.
“This is where I first learned to hack,” she whispered. “Rafe taught me the basics. Enough for what I’d needed.”
“Is that what Heart was teaching those kindergarteners? How to hack?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.” We climbed wide marble steps toward the second level. “They were coding, for sure. Learning how to create programs.”
The image of how deeply she’d been affected by those little ones back at Heart’s place had burned into my brain. “Is that what you would’ve wanted to do? Code? Or hack?”
“No.” She gave a quick headshake as we rounded the corner. We followed an ornate wooden railing halfway along its length, then leaned our forearms on it. “I’m a people person.”
We stared down at the dozens of obvious homeless people in various nooks and crannies visible from our vantage point. I glanced up through the open center at the four floors above us, imagined the multitude of rooms that spanned in every direction on each floor. There had to be hundreds of homeless we couldn’t see.
“And these are your people.” My mind spun about the overwhelming need right in front of our eyes that had no clear solution.
“They’re our people.”
“Yeah, they are.” Every single one of them.
She’d made it her life’s mission to help save the victims of the indifference in our cruel world. A real-life hero.
You saved me too.
I had no idea what would happen to us from what we’d done today. If we’d get caught. If we’d pay the price the law demanded.
But I couldn’t think in what-ifs. The enormity of how many people were in need short-circuited my brain.
I turned to her, wrapped my arms around her, and dropped my head. On a deep inhale, I turned my face into the soft skin of her neck.
“You’re my person. It’s been a long day, and you’re the only one I can handle being around right now. I need to knock our low-chill down a notch.”
All I wanted was to be grateful for what I had.
And hold on to it, any way I can.
Shay…
“Hey, sleepyhead. Good morning,” I murmured against Ben’s temple when he stirred. After a deep inhale, I stretched, catching the bed covers with my arms and tugging them down.
He groaned before muttering something unintelligible. Then he snuggled closer and dragged me downward, yanking the covers back up over our heads. “Pretty sure it’s midafternoon.”
I hummed, content. “No big.” Nothing out there demanded either of us. Everything we needed? Existed in his bed.
We’d come straight from the library, ordered enough Chinese to survive on for days, then stayed up till dawn binge-watching Suits while cuddling on his sectional.
We hadn’t gotten naughty since our Wednesday afternoon sex-a-thon, but every moment we’d spent together since his parents’ dinner had been big for him...and for me. All we’d seemed to want was low-key touching, holding hands, or laying in each other’s arms.
But forty-eight h
ours later, my body hummed to life, thrilling at the delicious slow-burn of his touch, beginning to ache for the pleasure he expertly delivered. I exhaled a calming breath, determined to wait to be sure he’d gotten there too.
Then my brain kicked on, tamping things down even further. And my usual worry settled in. “Don’t you have a golf tournament tomorrow?” The inevitable end of our amazing week loomed ahead.
What happens to us then? After the tournament’s gala, the first pseudo-date-thing he’d finally gotten me to agree to.
“Yeah.” The soft scruff of his beard trailed from the base of my throat up the side my neck. A gentle kiss pressed below my ear. “So?”
“Sooo...don’t you have to practice or something?”
He snorted, fogging warm breath over my skin. “Hell, if I don’t know how to golf now, one day won’t make a difference. Besides, I’ve played that course a thousand times.”
“Okay, good.” I relaxed into his hold. “Let’s just stay here, then.”
“Great by me. It’s Friday,” he ran a hand up under the back of my T-shirt. “Who won Thursday?”
I let out a sleepy sigh. My eyes drifted shut as I snuggled against him, drawing in his earthy masculine scent.
“You did.” Okay, so the fun parameter had gotten redefined. Having a great time wasn’t always about the thrilling excitement of jumping trains and movie dates...or spending whole afternoons in bed. Yesterday had been more important, finding common ground as we selflessly tested what we were made of.
And he’d done an impressive job of sacrificing his morals for the good of others.
But he still struggled with it. Why we’d stayed up all night and into the morning. But even though he’d gotten some sleep, the little he’d managed had been fitful, restless.
He’d jostled me awake almost every hour. My heart had ached for him every time as I wrapped my arms around him and lulled him back to sleep.
“It’s a tie, then. So, Friday’s yours.” His fingers tucked under the back waistband of my underwear.
“It’s ours.” Since midnight, we’d already been glued to his TV, having an awesome time together rooting for the lovable lawbreaking attorneys Harvey Specter and Mike Ross.
Friday. Something about Friday. “Oh, damn. We forgot.” I launched out of bed to grab my turned-off phone from my backpack that laid on the floor near his bathroom. We’d unplugged the moment our takeout had arrived. “I’ve gotta head to Kiki’s. Borrow a dress to change into after my shift.”
“Shift?” He propped up on an elbow and squinted at me through bright sunlight that streamed in through his huge windows.
“Bartending. Working the tournament?” I dug past my stolen artifacts and found the phone at the bottom. I switched it on. With a flash of light, it began to power up. But my gaze drifted to the corner of a white satin glove that had wrapped around a tactical folding knife.
“Not tomorrow. Invitation Only doesn’t host the event. The club does. Tomorrow, you’re a guest.”
What he’d said took a minute to register as my mind drifted to the other items in my backpack: the empty tin of lip gloss, the ancient coin. Four talismans that I’d religiously laid out every single night for eight long years had been completely forgotten...five nights in a row.
Something unexpected had happened when I’d invited Ben into my world.
Or maybe it’d been when he’d swept me into his.
Obsessions from my past had lost their power over me.
And I’d immersed myself into my brand-new present.
I glanced up at him. All because of you.
But since the last forty-eight hours had been incredibly difficult for him, I wondered what the next forty-eight would bring.
I definitely didn’t like the neutral label he’d slapped on me. “A guest.”
“My guest.”
Better.
The phone bleedled. Two texts appeared. The latest text was from Kiki about picking me up at 4:00 p.m., which gave me an hour.
I typed back:
OK
An unknown number had sent the earlier one, right after we’d turned the phones off. I clicked into the text:
It’s Heart. Didn’t burn drive. Extra locked file at end of list bugged me. Cracked it wide open. Found more.
I glanced up at Ben. He stared at me, eyes narrowing. But I was pretty sure his talent with those assessing looks didn’t include mind reading.
I fired back a quick reply to Heart:
More?
Ben moved, curving forward onto his hands and knees.
The white sheet drifted off his side, exposing his magnificent naked body. Rippling muscles, primal tattoo, dark beard and rumpled hair, my fierce wolf stalked forward, devouring me with a hungry gaze.
“Beautiful,” Ben growled out as he crawled closer. Heat glittered in his eyes, like he saw everything under my T-shirt and underwear.
And I saw every incredible inch of him, straight through to his heart.
The phone chirped. I glanced down:
MORE
Sounded dire. But dealing with it the right way would have to wait.
I texted back:
Keep it. Talk later.
I tossed my phone onto my backpack then stalked toward the bed, directing my full attention at the extraordinary man in front of me. “Sexy as sin.”
The second I stepped within reach, he hooked a hand over my left butt cheek and pulled forward. His nose and lips dragged along the strip of skin above the waistband of my boy-short underwear. “How much time do we have?”
“How much can we do in thirty minutes?”
He tugged my shirt over my head, then began trailing tender kisses down my neck, between my breasts. His fingers tucked into the sides of my underwear and drew them down my thighs. “I can do amazing things inside thirty minutes.”
“Show me,” I murmured against his ear as I ran my fingers through his hair.
I mentioned nothing about Heart’s message, had no intention to. He’d had a hard enough time dealing with the lines we’d already crossed.
Instead, I stuffed the problem into the back of my mind and got very into the most important thing...the man right in front of me.
I leaned down and captured his lips, kissing him with all the tenderness I felt.
You don’t need to handle more. Not when I can do it for you.
“Fairy godmother at your service.” Kiki swept her hand wide in front of her “closet” on the lower level of her place.
From the moment we’d gotten out of her car, I’d walked beside her wide-eyed, mouth agape. We’d passed by junkyard sculptures arranged in a maze through a sunny botanical garden, then entered a warehouse building more massive than Loading Zone, complete with a living room, gourmet kitchen, an entire back half dedicated to creating her metal artwork, and a cantilevered loft that jutted out above us. Finally, we’d arrived to stand in front of the unconventional wide-open closet that had half a dozen garment racks fashioned from galvanized pipes.
“Well, what d’ya think?” She scanned over her fashion collection before her gaze landed on me.
I stared at the overwhelming amount of silk, satin, and sequins. “I think Cinderella had birds. With ribbons.”
“Yeah, well unless they’re animated, birds in warehouses crap on dresses.”
Birds crap randomly in secret forests. A world away from here.
“Besides, her first dress was torn to shreds. Her fairy godmother saved the day.”
“I’m not sure about this.” I hovered fingers over various fabrics, separated out one here, another there, to see more than glimpses from the side. “Everything you’ve got is so...” Fancy, elaborate, way out of my element.
“Appropriate for the occasion.” She moved beside me, then pulled out the last one I’d touched. “Simple. Elegant. We’ll try this one and a few others. You’re gravitating toward darker colors.”
One by one, I tried on dresses while she broke the news of two pro shops wan
ting to sell our shirts and I shared my interest in having at-risk kids make them and my wish for donating profits to charities.
After the third floor-length dress, I shook my head. “None of these seem to be working.” One was too bright. Another way scratchy. Two had choking collars. And I didn’t like how the last clingy dress bunched at my hips.
She scrunched her face, scanned down my body, then glanced at our outcasts.
All of a sudden, her face brightened and she snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it.”
She unhooked a black garment bag from the far end of a rack. “I forgot about this one.”
“Yeah? I’d almost forgotten about coming here.” Because I’d been luxuriating in bed. My thoughts flashed back to Ben, about his struggle and the mysterious text from Heart.
Kiki gave me a pointed look as she unzipped the bag. “Your fairy godmother would’ve hunted you down.” She handed me a basic black satin sheath that had spaghetti straps.
The soft material slid down my body, whispering over every curve. My lips parted as I took in my image in the full-length mirror, then lifted into a tentative smile. I glanced at Kiki through the reflection.
She wore a wide grin and clapped her hands together. “It’s perfect.”
“You know, I’ve never had a best friend.” Never had a girlfriend. Nor a real friend. Hadn’t ever trusted anyone enough to come close.
Instead of her asking why, she gave me a warm hug. “You do now. One that would do anything for you.”
Just like that. On instinct. She’d given me loyalty based on knowing me for only a handful of hours pieced together over the last week.
But they’d been intense hours. And we’d bonded.
She didn’t belong to Ben first. I knew in my heart, she belonged to me too, no matter what happened.
A sudden thought struck me, and my breath caught. I turned and grabbed her hands.
“Kiki, I have to ask you something.”
Her brows twitched down a fraction, but she gave a solid nod. “Anything.”