“You mean after Malcolm’s crony assaulted Hop?”
“That’s a lie! Craig said Hop threw himself at him.”
“Is that why you stormed into my club and made a scene? How’s your lip by the way? That sissy faggot brother of yours has a strong right hook, doesn’t he?” Rafe’s fists tightened.
“Hopkins hit you?” Roland asked.
“He punched me in the face,” Malcolm whined. “Just because I told him I was going to tell you about Rafe’s betrayal. He’s crazy.”
“What did you say?” Rafe asked.
“He’s fucking nuts.”
“No, why did he hit you?”
Malcolm snarled at him. “I told him your life was over once Dad found out you’d hired him, and he attacked me like he thought he could protect you.”
Hop had been protecting him. Again. Rafe sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d accused Hop of being selfish? Fuck. No wonder Hop had pushed back and shut down. He must have been so hurt.
He’d known he’d messed up, but he hadn’t realized just how badly. He’d broken Hop’s trust. Once again, Rafe had been too consumed with his own worries to recognize what Hop needed.
Rafe didn’t bother hiding his animosity as he pulled the check and legal documents out of his briefcase. He’d spent hours with his attorney drawing them up with exacting details.
“What’s this?” Roland scanned both.
“It’s my ticket out of your life.” He glanced at Malcolm, then Roland. “With this, I’ll clear my debt to you.”
“I see.” As he read it, Roland’s lips thinned. “You’ve been thorough.”
“It’s the only way.”
“Are you sure? You’re giving up quite a lot with this.” He waved the papers.
“I maintain the majority of shares and control over all business decisions.”
“How can you be sure that this Prince is a trustworthy silent partner?”
“I can’t. But I haven’t spent this long by your side and not learned anything.” He patted his briefcase. “Lawyers are good for many things. Besides, anyone is better than you.”
Roland’s eyes turned calculating, and he picked up the check. “Is your family okay with your decision?”
“Don’t threaten my family.”
“The boys are enrolled at Manhattan College, aren’t they? And your sister, she’s still going to daily physical therapy sessions? That has to be expensive.”
“I’m willing to make sacrifices. Are you?” Even if he had to sell everything he owned, his family would be fine.
Roland returned to his office chair and sat. “Is that what you think you’re doing?”
“Giving up shares of my business isn’t considered a sacrifice in your world?”
Roland hummed his disagreement, but the next words out of his mouth took Rafe by surprise. “So, Hopkins is a dancer?”
Scowling at Roland and then at Malcolm, Rafe said, “A very good dancer.”
Malcolm scoffed, but balked when his father sent him another look.
“He never left the city for school.”
For the first time in days, true dread gripped Rafe. “No.” How had he found out? “But he turned his life around. He’s had a steady job for over five years. He’s clean. He’s a member of a dance group and practices diligently. He’s left you alone, hasn’t made waves, there’s no reason for you to punish him now.”
Across the room, Malcolm was smirking.
“And how exactly did he come to work for you?”
“Coincidence.”
Roland’s attention drifted to his son. “I assume you’d intended to use this information at a strategic moment for your advantage?”
Malcolm’s face went pale. “I was only doing as you’ve taught me.”
“Maybe you and your friend need to find out exactly what it’s like living without my backing.”
“Dad?”
Roland shook his head. “You’ll learn humility before you call me that again.” He opened his desk drawer and placed a key on his desk, directing his words to Rafe. “Hopkins came to me this afternoon.”
Rafe couldn’t contain his surprise. All at once, he wished he’d sat when he’d first arrived. Roland continued as if Rafe’s world hadn’t just stopped spinning on its axis.
“He gave me this.” The strangest expression flashed over his face. “It belongs to a safety deposit box at my own bank. Inside is all the money I ever paid them.”
“No way,” Malcolm whispered.
“How?” Hop didn’t have that much cash.
“Marla never spent a cent I gave her. Stubborn woman.” There was so much affection and loss in his voice.
It was hard for Rafe to hear.
“He’s just like her.”
Rafe couldn’t speak, didn’t know what to say, and it seemed like Roland didn’t expect him to reply anyway.
“He believes you are a good man.” Roland pierced Rafe with his steady gaze. It was a look that had brought grown men to their knees, a look that had formed companies and destroyed them.
“I doubt that,” Rafe said. Not after the way he’d handled everything. Hop probably wished they’d never come back into each other’s lives. Rafe couldn’t blame him.
“So do I.”
Rafe wanted to laugh at the irony, but his chest hurt too much.
“There’s over a million dollars in this safety deposit box. It’s all there, I checked it.”
Of course he had—for someone like Roland Lockwood it would seem inconceivable that anyone could have access to that kind of wealth and not use it. He’d never trust someone’s word.
“If you fire Hopkins and stay away from him for good, it’s yours, no strings attached.”
Like liquid steel had been poured down his spine, anger straightened his shoulders. He glared at the old man on his wooden throne.
“Unbelievable. You’re still out to ruin his life?” He pointed at the document he’d handed over a few minutes ago. “That was supposed to be a contract to host the Parker Prince launch party during fashion week. It would have allowed me to pay my debt without worrying about what my family needed. I wouldn’t have had to give up a damn thing to be done with you.”
Malcolm snorted, but Rafe ignored him. This was too important to be distracted.
“The only reason I even had a chance to get it was because of Hop. Despite our past, he tried to save me. He protected my club even when I was doing a shit job of protecting him. And now you want me to fire him? Why? Because you’re ashamed to have a gay son? Because he’s too flamboyant? Because you can’t stand to see him happy? Well, too fucking bad. He’s the most amazing person I’ve ever known. He dances in colors that would blind you they’re so bright. He walks in chaos and gives everything he has to what he loves. He’s passionate and bold and so fucking strong.” Throat tight, he forced the rest of the words out. “He deserves so much better than you. He deserves better than me too, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you hurt him ever again. Fuck you. I’d give up everything I have and more to make sure Hop is safe and happy. So you can keep your fucking bribe money.”
Rafe stormed to the door and whipped it open so hard it banged against the wall.
“He was right. I was skeptical, but it’s true. You are a better man than I am.”
It wasn’t Roland’s words that stopped Rafe so much as the tone of them. He sounded pleased. “That was a test?”
“I had to be sure.”
“Why?”
He tore Rafe’s check into shreds. “Because, like you said, he deserves better than I gave his mother.”
* * *
Outside, Rafe buttoned his coat and looked at the bright blue sky. Sun reflected off the snow banks and made it feel about ten degrees warmer than it actually was. It was the perfect winte
r day to spend with someone special.
And here he was, free but alone.
He’d finally gained his independence but it didn’t feel like a victory. Now he knew the thing he needed above everything else was Hop, but it was too late.
He’d accused him of being selfish, but that was so far from the truth. Since they’d come back into each other’s lives, all Hop had done was give and give and give. An uncontrollable tornado and he’d bowed at Rafe’s feet. Hop had given him the ultimate gift and, idiot that he was, Rafe had tossed it aside as if it were nothing.
Rafe had created the maze they’d found themselves in and then he’d blamed Hop when he couldn’t find the way out. He’d thought he’d given Hop everything but he hadn’t.
He’d never risked his pride.
What a stupid coward.
He didn’t bother with the heat when he started the car. The chill kept his mind clear. The greatest puzzle he’d ever faced needed solving, because he’d decided there was no way he could live the rest of his life without Hop.
Now he just had to jump into the storm and hope Hop caught him.
Chapter Forty
“We missed you yesterday, bitch.” Z nudged him as he sat on the dressing table.
“Sorry, I wasn’t up to it.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Well, I don’t want to sound boastful, but I totally got out of bed today.” When Ansel had called to ask if he was available that night to fill in for Ramona, Hop had jumped on the chance to get out of the house.
If he’d hoped to catch a glimpse of Rafe at Switch, who would blame him? He was willing to get whatever crumbs he could. His heart was greedy like that.
“How are you feeling tonight?” Tam asked.
“I no longer feel like I’ve been run over by a train, so that’s an improvement.”
“I meant about the other stuff.”
“Oh.” Hop twisted the cap on his mascara and stuffed it back in his makeup bag.
“Like you’ll never be whole again?” Ansel asked.
“Like you lost a piece of yourself that you’ll never get back?” Z asked.
“Like the world lost all color overnight?” Tam asked.
“Like life has no meaning?” Jae asked.
Hop looked at his friends’ understanding faces. “Yep, all of that.”
They enveloped him in a group hug. “You’ll be okay,” Ansel said.
“I know.” Not really.
“He’s an idiot, you deserve better,” Z said.
“Thanks for trying to cheer me up.”
“You should have come to dinner last night. We have some amazing news.” Ansel bounced.
Attention caught, Hop turned toward his friends. “Spill. I could use good news.”
“Do you know the designer Parker Prince?”
Hop stilled. “Uh...yes.”
“He wants us to open his show during fashion week.” Ansel made the announcement with a huge grin.
“Isn’t that fucking amazing?” Z asked.
“Can you believe it?” Tam asked.
With the exception of Jae, who was oddly silent, they all spoke at once. Hop tuned them out. His pulse roared.
“What did you say? You haven’t agreed, have you?”
“Are you nuts? Why wouldn’t we want this?”
“There are things you don’t know. Tell me you haven’t signed anything.”
“We were waiting to talk to you first.” Ansel studied him. “What’s going on?”
Hop didn’t have another choice. He told them everything, even though it hurt.
“I can’t believe you kept all that from us, bitch.” Z scowled.
“I’m sorry.”
“None of that matters now,” Ansel said. “We need to know where things stand. If this gig falls through, we need to blow this Popsicle stand before it implodes.”
“We can’t do that. Rafe needs us.”
“Are you kidding us right now? Even after he pissed all over you, you’re still willing to fight for him?”
“He’s a good man.”
“Still so delusional,” Z scoffed.
“You don’t know him like I do. He saved me too many times for me not to help him now.”
“I’ll call my contact and see what the situation is.” Ansel walked off, cell in hand.
“He’s still got you wrapped around his finger.” Z shook his head.
“There may not be a future for Rafe and me, but I won’t stop loving him.”
Jae nudged him. “I never would have guessed you to be romantic.”
“Romantic tragedy, maybe.”
Ansel came back, still on the phone, his face grim. “Let me fill them in and I’ll call you back.” He hung up. “So, apparently Prince wouldn’t sign because of Rafe’s ties to your dad, but it was Rafe’s suggestion that prompted Prince to ask us to open his show.”
Hop’s heart sank. He wanted to call him, comfort him. Christ, he was probably freaking out.
Hop didn’t trust Roland to accept the money as a payoff and freely cut ties with Rafe. Fuck, he’d been an idiot. He should have gotten something signed.
“We have to do something,” he said.
“What can we do now? It’s over.”
“Prince obviously wants us bad. Maybe if we play hardball we can get him to reconsider.”
“That’s risky,” Z said. “I like it.”
Hop lifted a brow at him.
“Well, when the dude goes out of his way to help us, he can’t be all bad, can he?”
“Majority rules,” Ansel said, eying the rest of them. One by one, all of them nodded.
“Thank you,” Hop said. “You guys are the best.”
“I’ll tell Gigi we’d like to negotiate after the show,” Ansel said.
Thirty minutes later they gathered around for their traditional pre-show huddle.
“May our lipstick never smear, may our heels never break, and may our liner always be sharp enough to kill a man,” Ansel said.
“Amen,” the rest of them answered.
“Now let’s kick some ass and take some names.”
On stage, Hop’s gaze strayed to the rafters, searching for his favorite shadow, but it wasn’t there. The spot Rafe normally inhabited was nothing but solid darkness. Empty, like Hop.
Sullenly, he took his place among his friends, waiting for their music to begin so the dance could catapult him far away. They’d chosen one of their easier sets because Hop was still recovering. The opening chords of “I Know You Wannit” by Neon Hitch started and the Boyz moved like a wave. The first verse was slow, but then the beat dropped and they jumped and kicked at the crowd. Next they rocked back, swaying from leg to leg, beckoning the audience with their fingers. Hop scanned the crowd as he always did, not really seeing their faces.
His gaze landed on a pair of warm brown eyes.
Rafe was in the audience.
The choreography called for a spin, so Hop spun, but he whipped forward again afraid he’d been dreaming. Rafe was still there, still surrounded by people, still watching him.
What was that look?
The song came to an end and they were supposed to transition into a second. Instead, the music faded and a spotlight focused on Rafe. A murmur of confusion swept through the club.
Rafe held a sign above his head that read: All I need is you. I’m sorry.
“Well,” Ansel said beside him. “That’s one way to apologize.”
“He’s terrified of crowds.” Hop hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but it’d been running through his brain on a loop.
“Wow, he must know how bad he fucked up.”
Before Hop could argue, Rafe pushed through to the front and hopped onto the stage. Heart thundering, Hop met him in the middle.
“I couldn’t think of another way to apologize.”
“A text wouldn’t have worked?”
“Not big enough.”
“How are you not passing out right now?”
“Because all I can see is you.”
Oh fuck, that hurt. Hope sprang to life in his chest. “I don’t know what to do with this. What am I supposed to do, Rafe?”
“Could you, maybe, just love me?”
* * *
Rafe couldn’t believe he hadn’t fainted. His palms were sweaty and his pulse was fast, but Hop was standing before him like Christmas morning and Fourth of July fireworks and autumn sunsets and rainy day rainbows, so bright the audience disappeared.
He hadn’t lied when he’d said Hop was the only thing he could see.
Hop opened his mouth to speak, but Rafe cut him off. “Wait. That didn’t come out right. Let me start over.” He stepped closer, taking Hop’s hand in his. “I love you,” he said, meeting Hop’s wide eyes.
“Oh.” It was more an expelling of breath than a sound.
“It took me too long to realize how much I need you, but I know now. It was always you that kept me from becoming a monster. Even back then, it was you.”
Hop blinked and a tear streaked down his cheek.
“I don’t know how long I’ve loved you, maybe since the moment you told me to go ahead and call the cops with that cocky tilt of your chin. All I know is that when I look at you now, I see eternity in your smile.”
“Fuck.” Hop wiped his eyes. “You really know how to ruin a guy’s makeup.”
“Sorry.”
“Liar.”
“Give me another chance? I’ll give you everything you want this time. I promise.”
“You and your impossible promises. I told you, all I’ve ever wanted is you.”
Everything that’d been broken inside Rafe mended. The tightness he’d carried since walking away from Hop finally eased.
“I’m yours, pet.”
Hop grinned then, and it was like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds—blinding. “God, I’ve missed that.” He threw his arms around Rafe’s neck. “Say it again.”
“All night long, pet.” Rafe put special emphasis on the nickname.
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