“What? Are there more secrets? Do you think that’s going to change my mind?” I shake my head. “It’s not, Joey. I’m not going to be scared away. I got you a thorny rose, and I got you a bunch ofverbesina alternifoliabecause I want you to keep covering me with your art, so let me try to help you. Don’t run away from me. Stay right here and we’ll figure this out together.”
My voice catches as the words fall out. There are tears running down my cheeks, and Joey is squeezing the stem of the rose so tight, thorns must be piercing his skin.
“Let’s stay right here,” I repeat. “You never have to go back to your family again if you just stay right here with me. I’ll sacrifice anything to make this possible.”
Joey palms my cheek, and the thrum of connection lights between us. All the sadness and frustration and need is still there, swimming through me, but I’m weathering it with him.
Then Joey blinks. “Say that again,” he rasps.
A thrill shoots up through me. “That you’ll never have to go back to your family, and I’ll give anything to make that true.”
Joey pulls me close, and his lips close over mine. The relief of his warmth washes through me, soothing my anxious body, and I press my tongue against his teeth as I kiss back.
“Milo,” Joey says, his lips at my mouth. “I would never let you sacrifice your safety for me. You’ve built this life for yourself, and you deserve to be happy. But I think I know what I have to do.”
“You do?” I ask softly.
Joey nods, and I see tears in the corners of his eyes. “And I’m so, so sorry, but I need to ask you for something.”
His forehead presses to mine. Our bodies hum together, right where they’re supposed to be. “What do you need?”
“I need you to give me a day, Milo. I know I’ve already asked for too many, but I need you to trust me. I’m not running from you. I want to make this work, same as you do. But I have to go and do something on my own first.”
I wince. A crushing sensation sinks to the pit of me.
Every time we’re close, he pulls away. And now that I understand his life and where he came from, the idea of him going off on his own seems dangerous. Terrifying.
“What if you’re wrong? What if you get hurt, and you need someone else? What if you—”
“Milo,” he says firmly, then takes my face in his hand again and kisses me. “I wish I didn’t have to ask you. I wish I could stay.”
When our eyes catch, I see it. He’s not lying because Joey can’t actually lie to me. He can’t hide the truth, even when he tries.
And he’s telling the truth now. He wants to stay because he wants to be with me, just like I want to be with him.
I lean up and kiss him. I savor the way his stubble scratches me and the sensation of his fingers, sinking in at my hip. “Okay,” I say, fighting back tears again. “I trust you.”
CHAPTERTWENTY
JOEY
It’sthe first warm weekend of the spring, and that means I know exactly where to find my dad. So after a restless night’s sleep, I haul my groggy ass out of bed and head straight north.
His lake house is outside Milwaukee, about an hour to the west. It’s where he does all of his worst business, stuff even I don’t know about, and so I haven’t really spent time there since I was a kid. Those were happy memories, playing with my grandparents on the shore and rowing around the little manmade lake with my mom, before the truth came out and it all got hard. But now, driving through endless fields, there’s no avoiding the reality of my family, and I get a sour taste in my mouth.
If this works, I’ll never go here again. I’ll never see my family again or any of the people at the docks. Most of them are great, totally unaware of the crimes my dad commits in the middle of the night. I grew up with those people, learned everything I know from them.
I grip the steering wheel and curse under my breath. I’ll die before I ever go back to that world, but it’s still my past. There was still some good mixed with all the fucked-up things, and I silently say goodbye to all of it as I cruise down the side road.
It hurts, but there’s something better waiting for me. I can see a life taking shape with Milo that I didn’t know was possible. His softness, his kindness, all of it feels like a miracle to me. If I can make him as happy as he makes me, I’ll fight like hell for the chance. I’ll burn the rest of my life down, if that’s what it takes.
I love him. I never let myself really think about love, but I know it’s true. And maybe if I’d met him back in Milwaukee, I would have been strong enough to leave my family behind years ago.
When I pull up to the lake house, the light is on over the deck, and Dad’s SUV is parked out front. I’m grateful that there’s not a crowd, but when Dad immediately appears on the deck with a handgun and two German Shepherds by his side, I know he’s just as dangerous alone as he is with his associates.
I hold my hands high to show him I’m not a threat and slowly exit the car. The air is warm, but the breeze is cool. Dad doesn’t say anything as he stands there, glaring at me under the shade of the towering trees. He’s a beefy guy, a little shorter than me but with hairy, thick muscles, and he’s standing there in his winter robe, tied loose.
“Fuck you,” he says with his tight, demanding voice, then points the gun at my chest. “What are you doing here?”
