“Oh, comeon,” he barked. “Guys? This can’t be it! What, you destroy my life in ten seconds? Can’t we talk about this?”
“Nothing to talk about,” Noah told him.
He tried to get past.
Michael grabbed his arm, his eyes gleaming. “Don’t do this. You can stop them. You can dosomething.”
Noah stared at him, incredulous. He’d been expecting more threats, not…this.
“Mikey—”
“I know I’ve been fucking up lately,” Michael blurted. “And I’ve been too intense about your boy, but this is mylife. You can’t take the company away from me.”
Noah looked down at Michael’s hand. His knuckles were swollen, one of them scabbing from the impact of Benji’s stark cheekbone.
He’d been drunk, Benji had said. Noah breathed in deep. Sure enough, Michael smelled very faintly of whiskey.
He lowered his voice, pulling Michael away from the stream of people getting to the door. “Do you even remember what you did last night? That’s another charge we’renotpulling you up on.”
“Charge,” Michael scoffed. “I barely touched the guy.”
“Oh yeah?” Noah yanked his hand off, holding up Michael’s bruised knuckles. “His cheek isblack, Mikey. You’re never going to do that again.”
“Noah,” Michael tried.
But Noah wasn’t done. “I was willing to give you another chance. Demote you, stick you somewhere you couldn’t make trouble. But you keep fucking with my people. I could put you inprison.”
Michael bared his teeth. “I’d love to see you try.”
Noah pushed past him. But Michael lunged, grabbing him by the shoulders.
“You’re picking him over me?” he hissed. “He’s trash!”
Noah pushed back against every instinct telling him to headbutt Michael right in the nose.
“He’s a better man than you,” he said steadily. “You were given everything, and you squandered it. Benji has had to fight for everything.”
Michael’s eyes went flat. “Until you.”
He obviously meant it as an insult. But Noah felt it like the triumph it really was. He thought back to Benji curled up in bed, Max chattering away next to him as they slurped soup Noah had made. He thought about Benji tentatively rubbing the coat Noah had gotten him. Of Benji as he stared into his studio, eyeswet as he imagined what he could create. Of Benji whimpering underneath him, mouth open in shock that anything could ever feel so good as Noah inside him. And about Benji in lace, Benji in silk, Benji against the plush leather seats of his limo.
“Yes,” Noah said. “I’m going to give him what he deserves. And you’d better not get in the fucking way.”
CHAPTER 23
Life was… good.
Benji was getting better at not breaking out in nervous sweat every time he remembered that. They were officially moved in with Noah, and the storage room was cleared out. His cheek was almost healed. He’d handed in his piece for the college exhibition. The security team Noah assigned to him was so quiet Benji could pretend they weren’t in the car with him or standing outside of his classroom. Max had such a good time at Noah’s work that he wouldn’t shut up about it for days after, excitedly telling them what robots he would make whenheended up working there after college, which he insisted was going to happen.
And most importantly, Michael hadn’t bothered them.
Yet. Benji wasn’t ready to think the guy was beaten. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to take being ousted by his brother lying down. Most likely, he was lying in wait, planning something dastardly. Getting Benji kicked out of school or ordering a hit.
“He’s not ordering a hit,” Noah told him as they got ready for the exhibition. They were going casual: no ties, no cufflinks. Noah had tried to add a pocket square, and Benji had ripped itout, reminding him that they were going to a community college art exhibition. Everyone was going to look at Benji weirdly for not wearingjeans; wearing a pocket square was tempting ridicule.
“But still,” Noah continued. “Maybe we should go away for a bit while he settles down.”
“Go away,” Benji said, adjusting his shirt collar in the mirror. “Like on a holiday?”
