He stopped and hauled out his phone.
When Gavin picked up, Silver had a hope that what he was interrupting would piss Jamie off.
“It’s Silver. Are you still thinking about the shelter for homeless gay kids?”
“I’m up to my… eyeballs in paperwork for it right now. I have a board in mind, but there are fifteen forms to fill out for every step.”
“I want to run it.”
“I’m sorry?”
Okay. Maybe that was a little much. Silver hadn’t really known it was what he was planning to say until it came out. “I mean, I want to be a part of it. I’ll volunteer or whatever. But if you just put social workers or whatever in charge, kids’ll be afraid to come in.”
“Thank you. That’s exactly the kind of thing I hoped you’d help with. I have one more question for you.”
“Yeah?”
“Why couldn’t you run it?”
Silver thought about it for a second. He didn’t have a GED yet. And he’d probably have to take some college courses. He could handle some school. But then what, he’d be in an office? “Me do the paperwork?”
“Paperwork is the tedious but easy part. After all, I can do that. But someone making the decisions who has had the actual experience would be invaluable. I’ll send over some information, like a job description. See if it’s something you want to think about.”
“I do. Want to think about it, I mean.”
“Does this mean you found your passion?”
Silver didn’t know if he would call it a passion. Not like the way Eli felt about his pictures or the way Zeb talked about teaching. But if it meant Silver was tired of seeing crap go down and pissed enough to do something about it, yeah. And maybe that’s how a passion got started. By wanting.
“I think I did.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
SUITS WERE a lame clothing choice for Baltimore in July. How was everyone in the courtroom not dripping with sweat? Gavin had vetoed Eli volunteering to take Silver shopping, but since Silver had decided to pay for this particular wardrobe upgrade himself, they went to a discount store. It wasn’t like he could compete with what was on his lawyer anyway.
Sweat trickled between Silver’s shoulder blades and pooled under the new tie, worn a lot tighter than the token knot he threw on for work. Despite the sweat, going in front of the judge was easier this time. There were no guarantees, but having friends—family—on his side helped him face what might happen.
He grabbed a deep breath now as he and the lawyer went through the little gate Silver might not get to go back through. Here at this table, the lawyer would tell the judge why Silver shouldn’t have to go to jail. After putting a deposit on an apartment, the fine they were expecting would clear out the new savings account Silver had opened, but he’d be free. And when Zeb came back, Silver would be ready to see where things could take them.
The judge peered over her glasses and lowered the folder in her hand. “Jordan Barnett, the charge is Violation of Maryland Code 8-303, possession of a fraudulently altered government identification document with intent. This misdemeanor charge carries a fine of five hundred dollars or six months in jail. Do you understand that, Mr. Barnett?”
Silver had used lip balm and drunk plenty of water, but his lips still felt stuck together, and he stuttered a little. “Y-yes, Your Honor.”
“How do you plea to this charge?”
The first words were out, but the second ones weren’t any easier. “Guilty, Your Honor.”
“Do the people have a recommendation?” The judge looked over at the assistant district attorney.
The opposing lawyer had a sneer that reminded Silver of a high school bully. “Three months in jail and three years’ probation, Your Honor.”
Even though the lawyer had warned Silver, the words still felt like a punch to the gut.
Now it was their turn. “Your Honor, I would like to share with the court some circumstances regarding Mr. Barnett’s situation.”
The judge nodded sharply, pulling off her glasses.
“Mr. Barnett has no prior criminal record, not even a traffic violation. Mr. Barnett did not obtain a fraudulent identification with the intent to violate legal restrictions on purchasing alcohol. He was estranged from his family before the age of eighteen and was unable to access his own identification. Since his last appearance, Mr. Barnett has maintained a fixed address and has achieved employment. He is registered to take the GED exam next month and intends to pursue further education. He has signed a lease for an apartment in the city. We ask for dismissal.”
“What will you be studying, Mr. Barnett?” the judge asked.
Gavin had emailed a job description, complete with the qualifications. Counseling was just talking. But the other part, that would be a lot of use, knowing what the laws were and how to get around them.
“Criminal justice, Your Honor,” Silver said.
“Are you planning on becoming an attorney?” The judge slid her glasses back on her nose.
“No, Your Honor. I hope to keep people from needing one.”
“A noble sentiment.” The judge examined her papers. “Jordan Samuel Barnett, you have entered a plea of guilty to the charge of possessing fraudulent government identification. You are hereby sentenced to six months….”
Silver’s hearing faded out in a rush of blood, a waterfall of sound. Jail. The whole sentence. Six months of jail.
“…remain within this jurisdiction for the full six months. And, Mr. Millhouse, I expect to be apprised of the results of each step.”
Silver was still having trouble hearing. It made him feel off balance. He flinched when the lawyer shook his hand. Kind of a ballsy gesture when the guy hadn’t helped much.
“Do you understand all that, Mr. Barnett?” The judge was looking over her glasses at him again. “Stay in the area, keep your job and your apartment. And I’ll be looking to see the results of your GED. Any missteps and you’ll serve the full sentence.”
“I’ll brief my client, Your Honor,” his lawyer said.
But the judge was looking at Silver. He wasn’t going to jail. All he had to do was what he was going to do anyway.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
As the lawyer led Silver back through the gate, he said, “It’s probation before judgment. You comply with the court’s expectation, the main one being not getting arrested again, and at the end of the term, you’re free. Going forward, you won’t have to say you were ever convicted of a crime.” The lawyer shook Silver’s hand.
This time he returned the motion and pressure. He wasn’t going to jail.
He hadn’t been able to really let himself believe it until this second. Still wasn’t sure he wasn’t going to wake up under the blue-striped cover at Quinn’s house, or worse, wake to find himself in an orange jumpsuit.
He turned to look for Gavin, to thank him, and stubbed a toe on the bench. First his hearing went. Now his eyes. Standing next to Gavin was Zeb. This was definitely a dream, because Zeb was way the hell out in the Allegheny Mountains of Pennsylvania.
Eli grabbed Silver’s arm and tugged him down the aisle. “Better get while the gettin’s good.”
“Who are you, my grandfather?” Silver muttered as they left the courtroom.
No one was out in the hall, but when Silver hit the marble stairs and saw Zeb standing down in the lobby with Quinn, with their friends, he felt like he really was in a movie. The kind with a happy ending. And for once Silver didn’t want to be watching it from a distance. He wanted to be in it. Feel everything up close. Even 3-D wasn’t going to cut it. He had to have the real thing.
Silver looked down at his suit. Yeah, he supposed if he ever did it for real, Eli would be the one to give Silver away, the one he would want at his side.
Quinn put a hand on Silver’s back, Marco clung with a quick hug, even Jamie threw a friendly punch at Silver’s shoulder. He needed to thank Gavin, needed to thank them all. Without his found family, Silver would
already have been dressed in orange. But knowing that didn’t slow Silver down as he walked through his friends to stand in front of Zeb.
If Zeb’s hands weren’t in his pockets, Silver might have flung himself on him.
Instead he just stared. Zeb’s hair was in a ponytail, but he was clean-shaven. “You’re here.”
“Seemed like a pretty important day in my boyfriend’s life. I thought I should be here.”
“Boyfriend?” Silver asked. He was two-for-two in the stupid department.
Zeb grabbed Silver’s hand. Warm. Solid. Real. “Pretty amazing guy too. Have to say the prick of an ADA took a few years off my life, but you should have heard what the lawyer said about my man. All that he’s managed in two months. Impressed the judge too.”
“He had some help,” Silver said.
Zeb shook his head. “I am so incredibly proud of you.” He pulled Silver into a hug. “I love you.”
Silver took a deep breath. Sandalwood. Whoever said you couldn’t go home again was a moron. It was right here. He swallowed. “Love you too.” Like Zeb could have missed noticing that.
Zeb squeezed harder.
Silver pulled back enough to say, “Are you coming to the party, or do you have to start back to camp?”
Zeb released him. “I think I have to go to the party. At least to give you a ride.” Silver glanced around. Everyone else was gone. They headed for the door. “What’s with that tone?” Zeb sounded hurt. “Didn’t you hear me say I love you?”
“And I love you, but I know how important being at the camp is to you. Like teaching.”
Zeb stopped him before the metal detectors. “You’re important to me, Silver.”
So after kicking Silver in the nuts for four years, the universe decided to hand out all the goodies on the same day. He supposed maybe he could not be completely selfish and make sure Zeb knew what he was getting into.
He tugged Zeb outside and took a deep breath. The oppressive city heat had never felt better. Because he was free to be out in it—and to bitch about it.
“Have you thought about what having a boyfriend means?” Silver asked.
“I’m hoping it means you in my life as much as possible. Plus, really awesome sex.” Zeb grinned.
“I mean for teaching.”
Zeb’s brow rippled. “Quinn has a boyfriend.”
“But Quinn has been there long enough that they can’t just fire him. Zeb, stuff gets out. You know it does. And if the parents find out your boyfriend has HIV—”
Zeb stopped walking. “If I lose my job, I’ll get another one.”
“You heard the judge. I can’t leave Baltimore.”
“So I won’t either.” Zeb started down the pavement again.
What had happened to the guy who had been afraid to bump arms in public?
They reached the parking garage and started up the stairs. They’d get in the car and go to the party and sneak off and fuck. Why couldn’t Silver just let it go at that? He was like a kid whining about having to go to the toy store. But if he got to have what he wanted and it got taken away again….
“If you’re with me, everyone’s going to think you’re positive too.”
Zeb froze. “Is that what you think? Silver, I don’t care what anyone thinks. I don’t care how people see me. Unless the problem is how you see me.”
“I just want you to be sure.” At Zeb’s narrow-eyed look, Silver blurted, “You can think about it and tell me when you come back in August.”
Silver thought he knew every expression on Zeb’s face, but he couldn’t read this one. Zeb didn’t give him much time, striding toward his car on level three. “About that. I’m back.”
Silver jogged after him. “What?”
“I mean, when I told them I had to leave today, I also told them I wasn’t going to be able to come back.” His voice echoed among the cars.
“But—”
“I don’t need three weeks to think about it. I love you. I never stopped loving you.”
Silver stopped. “If it was so easy to get out of, why did you leave?”
Zeb turned and leaned on his car. “You didn’t ask me to stay. And after—I didn’t think it should be up to me. Well, screw that. I’m not waiting. I’m asking now. I want you. I want us. I want it all. Are you in?”
Silver’s head floated loose on his shoulders at the same time that his feet stuck frozen to the ground. But it wasn’t a bad feeling. Sometimes standing still was good. He’d been running away from so much crap, it never occurred to him he had something to run toward. He could hang on to what hurt, or grab a chance to have what he’d wanted from the minute Zeb had made the first Star Wars reference. But a chance to have it without the lie that had cost them so much time. Without the need to lie because they already knew the worst and loved each other anyway.
Silver’s feet found the answer first. He jogged up to Zeb and grabbed his face, startling a huge smile. “I think you’d better get this car rolling before they have a real reason to arrest us.”
Zeb popped the locks, and Silver ran around to the passenger side. Across the roof, Zeb gave Silver that special, just-for-him twisted grin. “You know, since we’ve waited all this time, you think the party could wait a little longer?”
“Sure.” Silver slid in, grabbed the GPS and threw it in the back seat. “We’ll just tell ’em you got lost.”
Author’s Note
TO OUR great misfortune, there is no real Gavin Montgomery available to create a safe space for homeless GLBT youth in Baltimore, but there is YES, a drop-in center for youth, which welcomes GLBT teens: www.yesdropincenter.org. Like most social programs, they always need help. If you’re in good shape and want to share something with them, they have an Amazon wishlist and other ways to help on their page: www.yesdropincenter.org
Let’s hope someday no one has to face the choices that Silver did.
Exclusive Excerpt
Bad in Baltimore: Book Five
In a lifetime of yes, no is the sexiest word he’s ever heard.
After one too many misunderstandings with the law, wealthy and spoiled David Beauchamp finds himself chained to the city by the GPS and alcohol sensor strapped to his ankle. Awaiting trial, cut off from usual forms of entertainment, he goes looking for a good time—and winds up with his hands full, in more ways than one. The situation only gets more complicated when he’s summoned for a random drug test and comes face-to-face with the dominant man who took him for one hell of a ride the night before.
Probation Officer Tai Fonoti is used to handling other people’s problems, but he’s horrified when one of the extra clients his boss dumps on him is the sweet piece of ass he screwed the night before. It makes getting a urine sample a pretty loaded situation. Tai’s unique brand of discipline has Beach craving more. But while Tai relishes laying down the law in the bedroom, the letter of the law stands between them and kinkily ever after….
Coming Soon to
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
Chapter One
THE PREMATURE ejaculation of a Second of July firecracker exploded out of the night. Without a backward glance, Beach stepped from the steam of a Baltimore summer into Grand Central and took a deep breath of sweat, spilled booze, and sweet, sweet testosterone. The opportunity for a nameless fuck on the nearest convenient surface was one of the reasons Beach loved having sex with men. Women were not without their charms, though the maybe, maybe not dance could get tiresome. But men, especially the men who came to Grand Central, weren’t there for that kind of dance.
After waving over the bartender, Beach paid for a local bottled beer he would be scrupulously obedient about not drinking and scanned the sparse weeknight offerings. He knew exactly what he wanted—or at least, he would when he saw it. He could never say for sure what would catch his eye. All he knew was he had to find it.
Tonight more than usual.
His gran always said Beach had ants in his pants when he fidgeted, unable to keep still or hide his bor
edom at being stuck anywhere for any length of time.
And stuck he was. In Baltimore. Until his lawyer managed to work a deal with the DA over something that had created far more inconvenience for Beach than it had for any of the birds on the sanctuary he’d allegedly trespassed on.
But the trapped feeling wasn’t all that had pushed him out the door tonight. He was looking to forget the voicemail he’d gotten while in the shower.
Hope you’ll take some time during celebrating the Fourth to think about your old man spending his twenty-fifth year in exile from his country.
As if Beach could avoid thinking about his father, when an effort to bring him home had taken him to the bird sanctuary and was the whole reason why Beach now possessed a cane and custom-fitted ankle jewelry courtesy of the Maryland Department of Corrections.
And this jittery sensation that he had to do something right now or come out of his skin.
The itch burned like an infection in his blood, a desperate fever heat. Without any chemicals to take the edge off, not even a sip of beer, it was impossible to ignore.
But there was always something better than beer or chemicals if you knew where to look. Something exactly like… that. A crinkle at the corner of an eye. Warm tan skin over broad cheeks.
Beach shifted off the barstool to make a better appraisal. The object of his fascination leaned over a pool table. Jeans showcased a firm ass, and a tank top showed off intricately patterned black ink from shoulder to elbow. Though it also served to draw attention to the massive muscles on the arms and the breadth of chest that turned the hot ache under Beach’s skin to fire. Whether a guy was a top or bottom, Beach had never had any trouble getting exactly what he wanted. And he wanted that.
The man became aware of Beach’s greedy stare and glanced over. If Beach hadn’t already been determined, the smirk would have done it. The eyes, the not-quite-smiling lips, the black slash of his brows. All of it together promised he could bend Beach in half, make him beg the Lord for mercy, and smile all the way through it.
Bad Influence Page 28
